Chapter 3, Part 1: How to Play Pretend

feroshgirl

3 years ago

Notes:

Notes go here. [Hi, hello, Ferosh here. I definitely published this chapter with “notes go here” as a placeholder because I’m very sleep deprived and clearly not master of proof-reading at the moment. I was going to write about it being my birthday but then I got the chapter out late anyways so no need. Anyways, hope it brings you a laugh!]

Magic HQ

“And for a price, I will pretend absolutely nothing.”

— Jacqueline Carey, Kushiel’s Chosen

Penny

“It’s a bed,” Transmutation explained, patting it gently as if to demonstrate its safety.

“I know what it is,” Penny snapped, but there was no heat in it. When he asked to make something with her jacket, she hadn’t expected anything to come of it. And now she was standing here shocked and—possibly worst of all—pleased?

“You couldn’t sleep. And because you couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t think, and because you couldn’t think, you couldn’t—”

“I remember,” she said, cutting him off. Her embarrassing breakdown had already been replaying on a loop.

“It’s soft, and the sheets are smooth. You’re hard, but you like soft things.”

“We agreed you wouldn’t read my mind.”

“I didn’t,” he said quickly, arms held out to soothe as if she were a skittish cat, “Your emotions are on your face. Or rather, your thoughts are. Not that there’s a difference; it’s all inside your head.”

“Sort of,” she hedged, trying not to get too annoyed. Was she going to have to explain every basic concept to him? “Emotions and thoughts aren’t really the same thing.”

“I know. I was being imprecise. Some emotions are objects or creatures.”

“O-kay…that’s a whole separate tangent that I’m sure means something to you, and maybe, if we weren’t trapped in a binding spell, I could be assed to ask about it. But we are trapped, and I don’t really have time to get into it because there’s work to do.”

He crossed his arms and stared at her until she began to feel uncomfortable.

“What are you doing?”

“You said there’s work to do,” he answered, “I’m waiting for you to start.”

Brindleton Bay – Somnus’s Realm

Miko

“I’ve brought you a gift,” Somnus called from somewhere on the second floor. Miko heard multiple feet shuffling, which was strange because they never had guests.

Shit. “Give me a minute!” she cried, jumping up to find something other than her towel. With a screech, she backed into the wall as Somnus appeared in front of her.

“I know you can walk,” she accused, her cheeks hot. But as Miko said it, she had to work to tamp down a flutter of excitement.

He gazed at her, refusing to hide his interest. Maybe it was age or godhood, but he had a possessive intensity that really worked for her. She’d used her influence to make him less hostile—a girl had to survive—but not for anything else. Somnus was this wild about her all on his own.

He wanted to be tamed, unlike Akira, and to do a whole host of things Miko only ever dreamed about. And he was changing in subtle ways—adapting her penchant for casual clothing, letting his hair grow dark instead of bleaching it.

“If I had known you were waiting for me like this, I would not have gone to such great lengths to bring you a gift,” Somnus said, a playful arch to his brow.

Miko bristled and pushed past him. “I wasn’t waiting for you; I was merely taking a shower. I have plenty of other things to keep me busy!”

But she didn’t, not really. Alice had gone to ground with The Owl, and Omar was off with the other gods licking his wounds. She and Somnus had fallen into a pattern. Exquisite dinners, long talks by the fire, and days spent doing…other things.

She felt free, freer than she ever did with Akira or her aunts.

Somnus grabbed her, pulling her hips flush against his pelvis. “You have bewitched me, Miko, but I have not forgotten. I think it’s high time we got started on our plan.”

Windenburg – Elmyra’s Realm

Elmyra

Generally, Elmyra did not invite her brother inside her house, and her brother did not request it. But the God of Death had ascended, so all sorts of traditions were being tossed out the window. She blew out a plume of smoke, listening to him stalk towards her gameroom door.

“Do you really need all these rabbits?” he demanded.

“Yes,” she answered, picking one up to pet its soft fur, “They’re my primary lines of communication. You know I don’t trust phones.”

“Oh, I know,” Omar tugged at his jacket, “It’s why I am forced to constantly receive my messages at odd hours and bearing puncture marks.”

Elmyra declined to clarify that she’d often sent those messages at odd hours just to annoy him. He knew. Blaming it on the rabbits was just a thing the siblings did when trying to maintain a truce.

“Why did you want to meet?” she asked, watching as he examined her posters and a bottle of Siren’s Nectar she’d just imported from Sulani. “Is your home really that boring when Nyx and Sol leave to host their knitting circle?”

“You can say harem,” he muttered, turning the bottle in his hand, “Everyone else does.”

The absolute last thing she wanted to do was share a drink with the Pious God of the Sun. She had shared enough things with her brother. Luckily, Norman shuffled into the room to take up his post. Faking a breezy tone, Elmyra blew out more smoke. “Well, I have my own entertainment, so I hope you’ll be on your way quickly.”

That should do it. Omar hated Norman, found his entire presence worse than unsettling.

“You don’t keep Norman faceless for entertainment,” he smirked, “You do it because you have some real issues with jealousy.”

Elmyra startled. This was not the game they played. This was something else.

Omar looked exasperated, “Jimena’s father is hardly going to leave you. You have a child together. Isn’t that what children do? Make creatures besotted with each other? Leaving him like this is a horror.”

A necessary horror. Elmyra didn’t trust herself to continue discussing Norman. “Why are you here?” she snapped.

Her anger swept through the room, causing her maidens to fly out of their seats and begin a terrifying war cry.

In the old days, armies had fled at those sounds, but Omar was not rattled. “Call off your beasts. This conversation is of a sensitive nature. I don’t spy on you in my home; the least you could do is return the courtesy.”

He did spy on her, but Elmyra let that slide since he obviously refused to go. She waved at one of her maidens. Within seconds the entire room was cleared, even the rabbits.

“What do you want?” she repeated with less anger, slumping down in her chair. The fire danced and she watched trying to decide if she hated her brother or loved him.

Hated. Likely.

And yet…

“Let me pour you a glass,” he said with surprising kindness. He grabbed her favorite glass, taking care to set the simpler one aside for himself.

“I don’t trust our compatriots not to go back on their word and reach out to the God of Death. Clearly, she’s getting help from someone powerful, and I can’t make a move until I know who.”

Magic HQ

Penny

Penny had tried every spell she could think of—transportalate, homewardio, even absurd ones that she knew wouldn’t work like repario and morphiate.

“How long did you say you were down here?” she asked, wiping the sweat from her brow.

“Nine hundred years, three days and 4.72 hours,” Transmutation replied confidently. “I didn’t worry about tracking time to that degree, but I revisited the room with my calculations and adjusted them.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Penny was beside herself. “You have a fucking room?”

“Yes, in my mind. A lot of them, actually.”

Nope. No. Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Alright, I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t want you to explain it,” she said quickly before he could interrupt. “I just want us to focus. You’re magic, right? Can you sense other magic?”

He laid down on the ground, or at least, what she assumed was the ground, and closed his eyes.

“Well,” Penny demanded, “What do you sense?”

“It’s hard to explain; you’re a sorceress,” he crooked a finger.

Reluctantly, she laid down next to him and closed her eyes. At first, she felt nothing, but then…

“I feel it! The pulses, they have different patterns…different vibrations.”

Even with her eyes closed, she could tell he was smiling. “Exactly. I know there are pulses, and I can recognize my own, but not the others. And I certainly can’t command them. That’s your skill, your gift.”

Penny knew she was a great witch, but she never thought of her skill as a gift. She’d spent too long being punished for it.

“Thank you for the bed,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome. I hope it’s the nicest bed anyone’s ever given you.”

“No one’s ever given me a bed,” Penny laughed. “Witches don’t run around gifting beds, especially to someone who’s—” The word “wicked” sounded in her mind. She clenched her fists tightly, trying to quiet it.

“What else do you like?” Transmutation asked, clearly unaware of her turmoil, “What else do you want?”

Everything. Nothing. Penny got to her feet. “To get the fuck out of here and spend two days on my couch binging movies on television and not having to deal with magic, or fighting, or gods, or witches.”

She meant it as a joke, but Transmutation wrung his hands in confusion. “Television?” he repeated. “What’s that?”

Brindleton Bay – Somnus’s Realm

MIKO

“What is that?” Miko gulped, trying not to let on how much she was rattled. The living room had been cleared out and on the floor was a very familiar chalk circle.

“Even as disposable as followers are, I would never refer to them as a ‘what.'”

Somnus’s sneer was so pronounced that Miko let loose a bit of her power to drive his arrogance down.

“It’s a chalk circle.”

She held his gaze, but he didn’t elaborate, and for one brief hysterical moment, Miko was afraid her power didn’t really work, and he was pretending. But then he grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. “Let me explain.”

He waved the followers aside, taking her to a quiet corner of the room. “I can tell you’re nervous. Why?”

Affection and admiration, she reminded herself. Akira had her so screwed up that she didn’t know how to trust, and she was mistaking Somnus’s fondness for some kind of betrayal. Still, she had to be careful because if he knew she still had power and used it to manipulate him, he might very well decide to kill her.

“I’m just not sure what we’re doing here,” she demurred.

He smiled and chucked her chin. The affection between them was genuine, wasn’t it? She knew him. Knew all about how the other gods had cast him aside, how B’Ollithiranon made him a god in hopes of controlling him. He was always cast aside, considered a problem, and Miko felt very much that they were kindred spirits.

“Do you know how death works?”

“What?” she was caught off-guard by the question.

“Death,” he repeated, his voice suddenly lethal. “Do you know what happens when a creature dies?”

Miko swallowed nervously. Of course, she didn’t know about death; she was a Thread of Fate. Miko had only died for brief moments before she was reborn again, her thread looped, the process repeated.

“I’m sorry, of course, you don’t know.” He was staring at her hard, his hand on her shoulder. “The part we are concerned with is after the Reaper delivers the souls. The Ferrymen drive them forth into the Netherworld.”

Miko jerked back in shock, “What do you mean? The Underworld is—”

“Not what you would expect,” Somnus said with a laugh. “The Underworld is more like a clearing house, which is why I’ve brought you this little gift.”

Miko’s gaze slid over to his followers, now murmuring to each other and glancing in their direction. She turned on her heel and walked around the fireplace, only to find Somnus waiting for her.

“Ah, ah, ah. Eyes on me.”

She sank to the floor, her heart beating in her throat.

“Immortality does not protect you from dying; did you know that, Miko? It’s what makes gods and the Fates special that they cannot be killed.”

He brushed her cheek and Miko felt almost sick, “It’s hard to kill a supernatural, but not impossible. I could kill a vampire, and I’m sure, were you not a Thread of Fate, I could kill you.”

Her thoughts were a whirlwind. She couldn’t even calm down enough to grab ahold of her magic. Somnus knew. Somnus was going to kill her. Somnus was dangerous. Somnus was…

Offering to get her a glass of water?

“You look as if you’re on the verge of passing out.”

She shook her head, grateful but confused. Was he really threatening her, or did she imagine it?

“As I was saying, supernatural creatures can die, and when they do, they are separated out by the ferrymen. It’s a safety measure, who knows what sort of magical nastiness they could still contain? No, the supernatural dead do not get anywhere near the God of Death or the heart of the Underworld.”

Miko’s hand trembled as he helped her up. She searched Somnus’s features, but all she saw was his concern for her.

He pulled her into his arms and gestured at his followers.

“I brought you a gift, Miko. And I want us to use this gift to break into the Underworld.”

Windenburg – Elmyra’s Realm

Elmyra

“Of course she has someone powerful,” Elmyra had already downed her first glass and was pouring another. “She commands Untamed Magic, she’s sleeping with Phobos for Universe sakes!”

“Untamed Magic is entirely too selfish to be of any long-term help.”

“And Phobos?”

Omar sipped his nectar. “A beast who might eat the world and can hardly be collared. She’ll have to kill him before long. She loves this landscape with the fervent affectation of the sim she used to be.”

Elmyra didn’t bother to point out that Phobos technically could not be killed. If he were disembodied, it would be a kind of ending and gods were nothing if not excellent at finding loopholes. She laughed. “You don’t trust our compatriots. You made me clean my room for that? Maybe I’m helping the God of Death. Maybe she and I are best friends.”

Omar snorted. “Actually, aside from Sulis—who is too out of her mind to plot against me—you are the only other god I trust. And not for reasons of fondness; you like power too. Besides, I know you’ve already got Jimena playing prisoner and spying on her.”

Honestly, Elmyra could not say precisely what Jimena was doing. That child of hers had a mind of her own. She smiled sweetly, “So you do agree Jimena is useful.”

“If complimenting your offspring will help move this conversation along, then yes.”

Elmyra scowled. He was gearing up to ask for something. Omar didn’t dislike Jimena, he merely insulted her because it hurt Elmyra. “What do you want?”

“I want to walk into the Underworld, kill the God of Death, and dance on her grave, but since breaking into the Underworld is impossible, I’ll settle for a prize of consolation.”

The Goddess of the Hunt gave him a weary look. Omar was her brother. She understood why he wouldn’t give up because she was cut from the same cloth.

And yet…

“You said that if my plan didn’t work out, you’d gladly take the opportunity to build me an army and show me how hierarchy could be maintained on the battlefield. Alice has ascended; my plan failed. What do you say now?”

She could say many things, some true and some not, but one did not try to place falsehoods before the Pious God of the Sun. “Brother, I feel just as I did 2000 years ago when we made that deal.”

Magic HQ

TRANSMutation

“It’s a—”

“I know what it is,” Penny held up a hand, “I’m not staring at it because I’m confused; I’m staring at it because I don’t understand how you made it.”

“You can’t,” he shrugged, “You are a sorceress, not transmutation magic or a god.”

Why did she look so insulted? He was merely stating a fact. “What does it do?” he asked, “I made it, but I don’t understand its purpose.”

Penny stared at him for so long he thought he’d have to repeat himself. “You’re serious,” she gasped, suspicion giving way to surprise, “You made a TV, somehow, but you don’t have any idea what it does? You’re like an inventor who doesn’t know what he invented.”

He could explain that he had certainly not invented television. Time had brought one to the Universe as a gift once; the leap from taking the object out of his memory, recalling its code, and tweaking it with Penny’s specifications was not hard. He’d used her jacket to make the bed. The material of her bracelet worked for the television.

“Maybe you could show me how the TV works. Then you wouldn’t have to explain it.”

“Okay…well…we have to sit down. You don’t watch TV standing up. I mean, not if you can help it.”

Transmutation took a seat on the bed. Slowly, Penny joined him. “You use the remote….”

He handed it to her.

“Switch it on, and then you choose a channel to watch.”

She pressed a button, and the object flared to life. Suddenly, images danced across the screen, and sounds filled the empty space of the binding spell. Penny stopped on the scene of a moonlit graveyard and squealed with laughter.

“Holy practical magic, it fucking works! It works! I don’t know how you picked up a signal but thank you!” she hugged him and laughed again.

“I… you’re welcome.” It was a strange feeling to be hugged. He remembered it, he knew what it was, but he’d been alone for nearly a thousand years. Penny’s touch lit up a series of torches in his brain. Doors on rooms with associated memories and feelings rattled as if they were about to come off the hinges.

“Alright,” she said, “Switch sides with me. I’m used to sleeping on the left. Now, this is a treat. Moonlit Massacre III is a classic.”

Awkwardly, he leaned back on the bed as well, trying to match her positioning. On the screen, a machine-wielding monster chased a group of screaming mortals. He had so many questions, and because he knew Penny had answers, he asked them all.

“Listen, it’s not real,” she groaned after pausing the movie for the 16th time. “It’s like a play, with actors and costumes.”

“Why do you watch it? Mortals are getting slaughtered. I know you don’t like that; I saw it in your mind before you told me not to.”

Her lips pressed tightly together. Perhaps he needed to clarify?

“When I pull the worlds apart, sims will be slaughtered. Not all of them,” he paused to consider, “But a fair amount.”

“Please don’t,” Penny said.

Please don’t what? What was she asking him? “Do you or do you not like seeing creatures slaughtered?”

“I don’t!” she insisted, “But I do like movies. I like….” she took a deep breath, “How can I explain this? I like feeling scared and then discovering everything is okay. In a movie, something terrible lurks in the shadows, but you find out it’s a monster, and it behaves exactly as you expect, and then the monster gets defeated. I know real life isn’t like that, but when I watch a movie, I can pretend.”