(no subject)
Title: "Hi, I'm a Bastard" "And I'm an SOB"
Chapter 4: I'm not bad, just mislead
Characters: Luther (VtM), Mr. Wednesday (PtC)
Disclaimer: Vampire: the Masquerade, Promethian: the Created, and the variously aged Worlds of Darkness belong to White Wolf, but they let gamers play in their universe all the time. Luther and Wednesday created by me; others belong to their creators.
Rating: R, for language
Word Count: 1219
Summery: Wednesday's POV. Ruminations on time travel and the return of the vamp.
Previous
The night passed, as most do. I was hesitant to leave the little room I'd been left in, in case I forgot which portion of the wall the door hid behind. So I sat, and watched the television, and wondered about time. There were any number of theories about time, and going back, and what you should or should not do. A Sound of Thunder maintained that any change, no matter how small, would have devastating effects on the future, and originated the name "Butterfly Effect." Other authors claimed the past was the past, and, from a future perspective, all events were set in stone. All that changed was our memories and our interpretations of what happened. If you traveled to the past, well, your actions were predetermined, and there was no risk of annihilating the time you came from. Still others took a dual view, saying you could change things, but then put them back, and the new futures you created would be spun off and cease to exist. I'd call that the Back to the Future theory, only I don't think they were thinking that hard about it. And other, more anthropomorphic theories existed, that time was a being and didn't like to be fucked with, and would punish anyone who tried to change the past. I'd call it ludicrous, but this is a world where dead men walk and talk, in more than one way.
Unless this was all an elaborate trick played by Booster, Luther, or God himself, it seemed I'd be able to answer, at least somewhat, the answer to time travel. The trick would be to find something to change, something small enough that any future I lived to wouldn't be too different, but significant enough that I could tell if there was a change made. Of course, in books and movies there's always a way to get back to the...time you came from, something which I distinctly lacked. Unless I could find a mage that was an expert with time and space, my only option would be to live through this one day at a time, and hope that I could return to where I came from. Not that there's any reason other than familiarity to return, and if I was given the option of go back now or wait ten or more years to get there, I'd be hard pressed to choose. Wait, probably, as I'm certain knowing history before it happens would make an excellent field guide and provide a fair amount of knowledge.
The hours slowly crept by under the gaze of the television. It seemed Luther either didn't try to steal cable from his neighbors, didn't have any neighbors to steal from, or just didn't care about any channels but local ones. I watched a few shows, the news, some late-night talk trash. Everything indicated this was the late nineties, nearing Christmas. Well, to be fair, the news show outright said it was the ninth of December, but that almost seems like cheating. I didn't know it was possible, but I must have dozed off as I reached the small hours of the morning, because I didn't notice anyone else until Luther tapped me on the shoulder. I nearly bolted out of my seat, with a familiar tingle on my fingertips, before gaining control and settling back down. He was still wearing that cocksure grin, which implied that, whatever he'd been about, it had been a success. "Glad to see you're having fun," I said. Well, growled, more accurately, I still wasn't fully awake.
"Miss me?" The vampire tossed a brown paper bag into my lap. It reeked of grease and ketchup. "I even brought you breakfast. Assuming you eat."
I opened it, reached in to grab the wrapped package. "Yeah. Thanks. I'd offer you some, but I don't think you'd accept."
"Damn straight. Those things will give you a heart attack." He fell into the nearby chair, deliberately casual. "Or maybe just another one."
I unwrapped the egg sandwich, took a bite. Yeah, this might be the past, but fast food wasn't any better. Salty, oily, sweet, and some sort of tang I put down to the sauce, or poor hygiene from the server who made it. "That's an awful cagey way of asking me why I was dead when you found me," I said between bites. "Ask a question directly or don't ask it at all."
"Okay." He leaned forward, still with a slight smile. "Why were you dead when I found you?"
I swallowed a rubbery portion. "I'd imagine beings weren't meant to travel through time in the way that I did. Doubtless some trauma, shock, asphyxiation." I was just saying words, with no truth behind them, as I thought back to what had happened. There was this quiet, and silence, and cold. And I hadn't been able to move, or think. But there wasn't anything before that, except for sitting in that damned room with the others, and hearing Booster's "Oh shit."
"Never bullshit a bullshitter." Luther pulled a lighter from his pocket, began flicking it open and closed. "That's what I tell everyone the first time they lie to me. I saw how you landed, you made an indent in the ground. You fell from further than there was to fall."
My sandwich was about half-eaten by now, but I paused before taking another bite. There was something about its taste that was familiar, in a less-than-pleasant way. "How poetic. Makes me sound like the light-bringer, torn down from heaven. Perhaps you just don't know the distance."
The lighter flicked on. I controlled my flinching reaction to it, though I couldn't help but stare at the flame. "I'll tell you something, old man: I can't make you do anything you don't want to. You can lie to me, you can walk out the door, you can throw those eggs in my face, and I can't stop you. But, really, you can't stop me, either, from lying right back, tailing you as you leave, or shoving this lighter down your throat. So, if you don't want to tell me the truth, say so."
"I can't tell you the truth."
"Can't or won't?"
"A bit of both." I tore my eyes from the fire, took another bite, tried to look unfazed. "I honestly don't know what happened. And if I did, you've offered me little in return for that level of information."
He closed the lighter and stood. "You're right." He sounded a bit disappointed. "I'll leave you be for the day. Stay if you like, leave if you don't." I almost felt bad for him, in a way. He clearly wanted to stay, to puzzle me out, to try and screw with me without getting screwed by me. It was a feeling I recognized, as I felt it, too. The need to know, to lie, to see how far this new being could be pushed. It had been held in check, I knew, first by Lenore, then by Abel, Fubar, and the rest. But here and now...
"Guess I'll see you around seven." I dropped what remained of the sandwich in the bag, wiping my fingers on the paper. "Try not to keep me waiting."
He grinned again. "I'll do my very best."
Chapter 4: I'm not bad, just mislead
Characters: Luther (VtM), Mr. Wednesday (PtC)
Disclaimer: Vampire: the Masquerade, Promethian: the Created, and the variously aged Worlds of Darkness belong to White Wolf, but they let gamers play in their universe all the time. Luther and Wednesday created by me; others belong to their creators.
Rating: R, for language
Word Count: 1219
Summery: Wednesday's POV. Ruminations on time travel and the return of the vamp.
Previous
The night passed, as most do. I was hesitant to leave the little room I'd been left in, in case I forgot which portion of the wall the door hid behind. So I sat, and watched the television, and wondered about time. There were any number of theories about time, and going back, and what you should or should not do. A Sound of Thunder maintained that any change, no matter how small, would have devastating effects on the future, and originated the name "Butterfly Effect." Other authors claimed the past was the past, and, from a future perspective, all events were set in stone. All that changed was our memories and our interpretations of what happened. If you traveled to the past, well, your actions were predetermined, and there was no risk of annihilating the time you came from. Still others took a dual view, saying you could change things, but then put them back, and the new futures you created would be spun off and cease to exist. I'd call that the Back to the Future theory, only I don't think they were thinking that hard about it. And other, more anthropomorphic theories existed, that time was a being and didn't like to be fucked with, and would punish anyone who tried to change the past. I'd call it ludicrous, but this is a world where dead men walk and talk, in more than one way.
Unless this was all an elaborate trick played by Booster, Luther, or God himself, it seemed I'd be able to answer, at least somewhat, the answer to time travel. The trick would be to find something to change, something small enough that any future I lived to wouldn't be too different, but significant enough that I could tell if there was a change made. Of course, in books and movies there's always a way to get back to the...time you came from, something which I distinctly lacked. Unless I could find a mage that was an expert with time and space, my only option would be to live through this one day at a time, and hope that I could return to where I came from. Not that there's any reason other than familiarity to return, and if I was given the option of go back now or wait ten or more years to get there, I'd be hard pressed to choose. Wait, probably, as I'm certain knowing history before it happens would make an excellent field guide and provide a fair amount of knowledge.
The hours slowly crept by under the gaze of the television. It seemed Luther either didn't try to steal cable from his neighbors, didn't have any neighbors to steal from, or just didn't care about any channels but local ones. I watched a few shows, the news, some late-night talk trash. Everything indicated this was the late nineties, nearing Christmas. Well, to be fair, the news show outright said it was the ninth of December, but that almost seems like cheating. I didn't know it was possible, but I must have dozed off as I reached the small hours of the morning, because I didn't notice anyone else until Luther tapped me on the shoulder. I nearly bolted out of my seat, with a familiar tingle on my fingertips, before gaining control and settling back down. He was still wearing that cocksure grin, which implied that, whatever he'd been about, it had been a success. "Glad to see you're having fun," I said. Well, growled, more accurately, I still wasn't fully awake.
"Miss me?" The vampire tossed a brown paper bag into my lap. It reeked of grease and ketchup. "I even brought you breakfast. Assuming you eat."
I opened it, reached in to grab the wrapped package. "Yeah. Thanks. I'd offer you some, but I don't think you'd accept."
"Damn straight. Those things will give you a heart attack." He fell into the nearby chair, deliberately casual. "Or maybe just another one."
I unwrapped the egg sandwich, took a bite. Yeah, this might be the past, but fast food wasn't any better. Salty, oily, sweet, and some sort of tang I put down to the sauce, or poor hygiene from the server who made it. "That's an awful cagey way of asking me why I was dead when you found me," I said between bites. "Ask a question directly or don't ask it at all."
"Okay." He leaned forward, still with a slight smile. "Why were you dead when I found you?"
I swallowed a rubbery portion. "I'd imagine beings weren't meant to travel through time in the way that I did. Doubtless some trauma, shock, asphyxiation." I was just saying words, with no truth behind them, as I thought back to what had happened. There was this quiet, and silence, and cold. And I hadn't been able to move, or think. But there wasn't anything before that, except for sitting in that damned room with the others, and hearing Booster's "Oh shit."
"Never bullshit a bullshitter." Luther pulled a lighter from his pocket, began flicking it open and closed. "That's what I tell everyone the first time they lie to me. I saw how you landed, you made an indent in the ground. You fell from further than there was to fall."
My sandwich was about half-eaten by now, but I paused before taking another bite. There was something about its taste that was familiar, in a less-than-pleasant way. "How poetic. Makes me sound like the light-bringer, torn down from heaven. Perhaps you just don't know the distance."
The lighter flicked on. I controlled my flinching reaction to it, though I couldn't help but stare at the flame. "I'll tell you something, old man: I can't make you do anything you don't want to. You can lie to me, you can walk out the door, you can throw those eggs in my face, and I can't stop you. But, really, you can't stop me, either, from lying right back, tailing you as you leave, or shoving this lighter down your throat. So, if you don't want to tell me the truth, say so."
"I can't tell you the truth."
"Can't or won't?"
"A bit of both." I tore my eyes from the fire, took another bite, tried to look unfazed. "I honestly don't know what happened. And if I did, you've offered me little in return for that level of information."
He closed the lighter and stood. "You're right." He sounded a bit disappointed. "I'll leave you be for the day. Stay if you like, leave if you don't." I almost felt bad for him, in a way. He clearly wanted to stay, to puzzle me out, to try and screw with me without getting screwed by me. It was a feeling I recognized, as I felt it, too. The need to know, to lie, to see how far this new being could be pushed. It had been held in check, I knew, first by Lenore, then by Abel, Fubar, and the rest. But here and now...
"Guess I'll see you around seven." I dropped what remained of the sandwich in the bag, wiping my fingers on the paper. "Try not to keep me waiting."
He grinned again. "I'll do my very best."