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 Posted: Mon Nov 01, 2010 2:49 pm
Since his return to the land of the living, Fish found himself working at Seasons most days while he worked to expand his understanding of central. He was working in rings - the familiar, the recognized, and the unknown, widening them outwards until he might someday demonstrate mastery of the city.
He was cautious, though, with so many Blacksuits around. He had so few memories and yet he knew they were Bad News. Capital B, Capital N. Better stay away from them and water the orchids, not too much - pull it out of the air, reassert your control over the elements, don't uncork the bottles on your sash, the water from the lethe - you make people forget, didn't you know, Fish? You're a god now, a god of forgetting-
Rain washes away everything, after all. Water erodes memories just as well as it erodes stone.
He was crouched outside the shop, giving water to a trellis of ivy that Persy was trying to coax up the wall. Dimly he thought he recalled another shop front in another city, not cinderblock but brick and covered in vines - but it might have been a dream.
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Posted: Mon Nov 01, 2010 3:23 pm
The door jingled as Writ opened the door.
"Perrrrr-sy!" He called out in a sing-song voice, "Perrrr-sy!"
It was time for the god of laughter to harass the game's most favorite referee. Writ's visits to seasons were a tagline of a divine sitcom- A silly, slightly unhinged trickster god, tasked with bothering a short fuse plant goddess in her shop. It wasn't quite comedic gold, but those ancient Greek soap operas had nothing on the stuff that Writ did in Seasons.
Writ walked in and looked around, there wasn't any sign of her anywhere. He sighed, perhaps he'd pop in another time, when his shinanigans could be more appreciated.
Writ turned on his foot and was about to walk out the door when he spotted a familiar face. A face he hadn't seen since his times in Southern- a face that he didn't see on the boat.
"Fish?" He squeaked.
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Posted: Mon Nov 01, 2010 3:35 pm
Fish had finished with the trellis and moved on to a ficus by the door, and hearing his name, he turned and looked up. Not a lot of people knew his name - he hadn't been the most social person, what with the lack of personal history and all it was kind of hard to make small talk. He squinted in the midday sunlight and got to his feet. The man who'd spoken was still several inches taller than him, and Fish found himself looking up and trying to make out his face through the glare.
"Sorry," he said, brushing his hands on his pants. He bubbled a little bit of water onto his palms and rubbed them together so they were clean.
The sun went behind a cloud and the man's features became clear. Fish wasn't surprised that he didn't recognize him - it was silly to have thought that he might. There wasn't much that Fish recognized these days - his past memories came in incomprehensible flashes if they came at all. It was the river Lethe's doing.
"My name's Fish," he nodded, "But I don't - do I know you?" he asked. "I don't think we've met- but-"
He rubbed his face with his wet hands. "I could have forgotten," he admitted. "I forgot a lot of things."
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Posted: Mon Nov 01, 2010 9:52 pm
Writ was pretty sure Fish was dead. He sure as hell didn't see him on the boat on moving day. At least, he thought he didn't. Writ was really drunk that day, and his capacity to remember anything on that trip through the underworld was a bit slim.
When Fish asked who he was, Writ was shocked. How could anyone forget him? He had made an effort to put a Writ-sized crater into the memory banks of anyone he met, and yet Fish didn't seem to recognize him. The idea that a close friend like Fish would just act like he didn't know him at all was mind-boggling.
Unless...
"Oh, I get it." Writ laughed, "Good joke, you got me all scared for a second, but I know better..." He looked down in thought, then back at Fish, "I mean, how can you forget a guy like me?"
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Posted: Mon Nov 01, 2010 9:59 pm
Fish frowned apologetically at the man. Obviously he ought to remember who he was, but he didn't - he couldn't. There wasn't anything to remember. The best thing to do would be to probably explain what had happened to him, and maybe things would become clear. Or at least his new-apparently-old-acquaintance would be less confused.
"When you die there's this river called the Lethe," he explained slowly. "And if you swim in it, it makes you forget everything."
Writ could probably easily enough guess what came next.
"I swam in the Lethe," continued Fish. "And then I got dragged back here to play the Game again. And I don't remember anything from before, and frankly - I don't care."
Whatever had made him desperate enough to swim in the Lethe, he was fairly confident he was better off not remembering it.
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Posted: Mon Nov 01, 2010 10:33 pm
What?
Writ couldn't believe what he was hearing. He believed the story about the river, being a god had prepared him for stuff like that- But seeing one of his best friends sporting his new, medicated personality made Writ want to flip a table.
Unfortunately, the counter was nailed down to the floor, which forced Writ to content himself with kicking the stool behind it with a frustrated grunt. It didn't help much.
How could he not care? All there was left of Southern were it's memories- The cafe, the docks, the wild crowds and the drunken shinanigans, all the ups and downs of the city- they were gone in Fish. Forgotten forever. If there weren't even people who still cherished those memories, no one to spread the stories of that place, the whole city might as well have not existed- and that made Writ shiver.
"Goddammit Fish, why did you have to do that? I mean," Writ shook his head, "I know Southern blowing up was a lot, but you didn't have to go that far, I had enough booze to make you forget about that entire-" He stopped when he realized what his friend had said, "Wait, did you just say you died?"
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Posted: Tue Nov 02, 2010 5:38 am
Fish nodded and set about reorganizing a rack of potted petunias. "I did," he said, and pointed to the leather chestplate he wore. A weak bloodstain seemed to trickle from beneath it, and Fish undid the strap and pulled it aside to show Writ. "Shot, as far as I can tell - it didn't heal right, still weeps sometimes."
A dark stain radiated from a point on his left pectoral. Fish put the armor back on. "Persy told me to cover it up, said it was bothering the customers."
And there was another thing that was changed: the old Fish, the Fish Writ knew, would never call her Persy. He would have called her Miss Floros.
"I'm sorry for your loss," he said, bumbling towards a table covered in orchids. He really was - he felt so awkward and terrible, undoubtedly he was wearing someone else's face and looked like a friend that Writ dearly missed. "But I'm not that person anymore."
And didn't want to be. In idle moments, he wondered what kind of trauma he must have experienced to swim in the Lethe for as long as he had, but the surface of the water had been like a dividing line, and Fish now was stripped of everything Fish had been before.
As he trickled water onto the hothouse flowers, he asked, "What was I to you?" Friends, allies, lovers? He had to wonder - and what accident of fate had brought them both to this moment as newly-minted gods?
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Posted: Tue Nov 02, 2010 12:51 pm
"s**t..." Writ walked up to get a closer look, and gave it a small poke. He swore he heard it gurgle, just a little. It hurt just thinking about how much that must've hurt. Writ wiped the blood on his pants and looked at his friend in the eyes. There wasn't a lot that was stirring behind them. Writ blew his bangs and sighed, what a weird little mess this was.
Fish was just a lump of clay, and Writ was sorely tempted to shape him with his own will. There were so many lies he could tell, so many ways to make this tragedy an opportunity, but Writ held back. Even gods had morals, even if they are a bit loose.
Where to start? Writ did the quick rundown- "Our gods made us allies, then we became friends, talked a lot" He trailed off for a moment, then got back on track, "We talked about good things, you were a good drinking buddy too."
He patted his cheeks, "You also didn't have the stubble."
Writ headed towards the door, "I wouldn't call this a 'Loss.' You still got a name, still got a body, and you're still living and breathing,"
He grabbed Fish's arm, "You might not have a lot of memories, but you're still around to make ones, right?" He pulled Fish along, "You're not gonna get anywhere just watering the daises, now come on!"
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Posted: Tue Nov 02, 2010 3:04 pm
"No, I guess not," considered Fish, as he followed the strange man (and apparent old chum!) out. "But they're orchids. Not daisies." It was sort of a comment that missed the point, and at any rate Fish found himself out on the sprawling, unfamiliar streets of Central.
"Really," he emphasized, "I don't care who I was before- but I'm back and there's got to be a reason for it-"
He ducked his head instinctively as they passed a pair of Blacksuit officers. Fish couldn't explain why he did it, just that there was an instinctive dislike for those crisp hems and sharp corners. He risked a glance over his shoulder, to make sure the suits were out of earshot, and then hissed, "Where are we going? I don't know my way- I don't know my way back from here."
He'd never been to this part of down before, never walked down this road. What if they got lost here? He'd never get back to Seasons, and then he'd starve and die again- Except it hadn't worked the first time around, clearly, so who was to say he even could die?
"Sorry, um," began Fish, "What did you say your name was?"
He felt stupid for asking.
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Posted: Tue Nov 02, 2010 7:50 pm
Writ looked at the two blacksuits and gave them a nod.
"Officers." He said with a smile. His eyes followed them until they were out of his line of sight.
Then he looked back to Fish, "Hell, I don't know! It's a big city, and there's lots to do, just show me the first thing that catches your eye, and we'll steer our way over there."
Writ shook his head, "Gods, it's a good thing I found you first, If Persy had her way with you, you would've ended up like Seth, hole and all!"
Seeing a blank-slate Fish made Writ want to do something- anything. Fish had to learn everything again, and what better way to do it than throwing him out into the world?
He laughed as he sped his pace up, "I wouldn't worry about Persy, we'll be back before she notices we're gone."
When Fish asked for his name, Writ realized he never re-introduced himself.
"My name's Writ, Writ Campbell, and I swear, if you forget it a second time, I'm gonna rip you a new hole, and you're not gonna like where it is!" He laughed.
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Posted: Tue Nov 02, 2010 8:35 pm
"Who's Seth?" blinked Fish, and even before he probably wouldn't have known who the other player was. Writ had just as well lost him - Persy had gotten to him first. She'd hugged him. Then she cried, and Fish felt strange because he didn't understand why she was sad, or who she was, or why she cried harder when she called her Persy. That was her name, wasn't it?
Fish shook his head, not liking the idea of a new hole being torn anywhere, even if he wasn't quite sure of the location Writ was implying. "I'll remember it," he said certainly. "I'm good with names - I have so few to remember."
Their surroundings were still unfamiliar, and this didn't come as a surprise. Fish had relegated himself to thinking everything was unfamiliar until confirmed otherwise. "Ah, Writ - where are we going?" he asked.
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Posted: Tue Nov 02, 2010 9:10 pm
"Like I said Fish, anything that catches your eye." Writ waved his arms towards nothing specifically. They were headed towards the center of the city- it was full of people, there were shop fronts and food stands and all kinds of urban noise around them, if Fish couldn't find anything that interested him just a teeny bit, they were going to have a problem.
Writ had a hard time figuring out what to do first. His stomach gurggled. Food would be a good place to start. Surely Fish knew how to eat, and Writ just realized all he had this morning was a bowl of dry lucky charms from the box.
"You hungry?" Writ asked him.
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Posted: Tue Nov 02, 2010 9:32 pm
Fish was surprised to find that he was in fact hungry. Eating slipped his mind often lately, and Persy had often forced him to sit down at she and her husband's table or else he'd forget and go an entire day without any kind of sustenance. And he had the small allowance from the goddess rattling around in his pocket.
"I am," he told Writ, "But I'm afraid I don't know much about food."
He shrugged, palms out. "Suggest something," he beckoned. "I don't know my tastes besides what Persy and Des eat, and most nights that's greek takeout." Microwave spanikopita and eggplant parmesan, with synthetic eggplant and soy cheese. Tilapia cubes that were really textured bits of wheat gluten - had he ever eaten real fish? He knew he must have, a long time ago, in that dim place where memories flashed like schools of minnows darting in and out of the dark.
He looked around, a blank canvas for Writ to try to impress on, and surveyed the brightly colored awnings and signs. "What looks good?" he asked.
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Posted: Tue Nov 02, 2010 11:10 pm
Writ's head turned to the signs, trying to find something that seemed remotely better than the excuses for Greek takeout they had around here. He wanted some real meat for once, hot on a platter or right between a bun. He would have preferred it if he didn't have to hunt down stray cats in order to get his protein fix. Writ's eyes and nose finally landed on a restaurant named "100% Beef Burgers".
"Hm, let's start with the basic food groups..." Writ said, going towards the restaurant, "Like hamburgers, real hamburgers."
100% Beef Burgers was a fast-food sort of deal, waiting on a long line as the foreign-looking workers took orders underneath the flat screen TVs with astronomical prices and pictures of burgers too good to be real.
"So" Writ tried to start up some conversation in line, "What have you been doing since you got back from the underworld?"
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Posted: Wed Nov 03, 2010 5:50 am
"I've been working," said Fish as they queued up for burgers. Somehow the image of grass-fed cattle on rolling green fields seemed synthetic to him, just from what he'd read in his brief time back on earth - were there really any places left like that? Maybe in the farming settlements or in Canada, but he doubted you could really sell the meat for so little. "Mostly around Seasons," he explained. "She says I'm better at it than Des, that I don't kill the plants."
He stared at the image of happy, grass-fed cows a bit longer and said, "How do you think they can legally call it 100% beef? I mean, I've been reading since I got back, trying to catch up on what's going on - globally, locally, on a national scale - did you know the Canadian government up in Nunavut thinks we're all ********?"
"Anyway," he continued, pointing at the poster, "There's no way that's real and there's no way it's all beef. So what is it?"
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