futurology | video; un: deathweaver

[ Koltira's back to his usual self once again--his hair pale as ice, his eyes burning with lichfire. His skin sallow, tinted with hypothermia, and shot through with spiderweb cracks. He wears the black ALASTAIR uniform as he sits on the edge of his bed, twisting a new ring around one gloved finger.

Beside him, his lynx cub rolls around sleepily.

His voice is still deceptively lilting, but the ethereal echo, the underscore of a guttural scratch, haunts him. ]

I must ask for a favor, should you have the capacity to grant it.

[ He glances back at the lynx cub. ]

The dead are not meant to care for the living. If one of you would take responsibility for this creature, I'd consider myself in your debt.

[ A pause. He frowns slightly as he goes on. ]

Recently, some of you met me as I once was. Understand something now. That man is gone. He died nearly twenty years ago, and nothing--nothing--of him remains in me. His house is ash, and cannot be recovered.

[ Not entirely true, though Koltira maintains otherwise.

Another beat, longer this time, as if he's unsure whether to keep talking. But, eventually: ]

Many of you recognized me, yet you did not ruin the past with visions of the future. For this ... I thank you.

[ And that's all. ]

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[The past. Keith can't help but envy someone who just experienced their past. His future haunts him in a way that doesn't seem like it can possibly be real. He lives in denial of the fact, but every time he looks in a mirror he's afraid that yellow eyes will be looking back at him.

What if he's living in that kind of past now?]

How do you talk if you're dead? [Well, it seems fair to ask, right?] Uh, that aside, if you don't have any takers, I'll take it.

[Though he can't help but wonder if the cub is the result of what happened with the bugs.]

Well, suppose we got that more or less in common. The man you met is gone an' all.

Was it all bad, charming?

[ He does not recognize this person. A new recruit, perhaps.

Koltira arches an eyebrow.

Simply, dryly: ]

Magic.

[ He'd like to say he doesn't care what happens to the cub, or who takes it, but he isn't given to lying. ]

Tell me your name.

[ That's right. TF had been younger, too. Koltira wonders briefly what had changed him so much that he considered his old self as sincerely dead as Koltira's own, but it is hardly his business.

Instead, he maintains the video feed, staring into it with his burning eyes. He remembers the kiss, quick and light. Not something he will enjoy again. ]

Yes. It was.

[ He scowls. ]

Do not mock me.

Really? I certainly didn't mind all of it.

[Twisted Fate chuckles.] No mockery here. You were quite the gentleman, after all.

Doubtless. It does not matter, anyway.

[ His lip curls. He is not that man anymore. The paths once open to him are closed; the warmth fled. He is monstrous now, and there is no help for it.

He twists the ring, and the white crystal set into it seems to grow slightly cloudier. ]

I was a fool.

Suppose it doesn't.

[He watches how Koltira reacts. What an open book; he keeps it in consideration.]

All men are fools. Dead, alive, doesn't really matter.

[For a moment, he's tempted. Tempted to tell Koltira that, truly, that was probably one of the few times anyone had been that considerate or polite to him.

But wearing his heart on his sleeve is a terrible plan, one that he knows too well.]

In any case, suppose it's best we leave it alone, eh?

Some more than others.

[ In life, Koltira was guileless because he was earnest; because he was valorous and sincere. In death, he simply sees no reason to hide.

Koltira's fingers curl against the tops of his thighs. Despite his best efforts, he still wants. The memories of the past week pain him because they are so fresh; because he feels like he can taste the butter melting on his tongue, the wine sweet in his throat. The kiss on his lips.

But they are illusions. ]

Forget it happened. The person you met was a ghost.

Then I suppose that goes for both of us.

I'll keep you posted if I can think of another job for you, frostbite. Figure that'll settle the nerves. Good luck with that cat situation.

[ He frowns, his ears folding. ]

You are alive.

[ It's not the same. ]

Twisted Fate is alive.

[A careful clarification.]

I'm not so arrogant as t'think I understand what you are and what that's like. But the man of the past ain't the man of the present.

[ He makes a noise of frustration in his throat. ]

I know this. You--

[ He's not as good with words as he once was, either. ]

You are different. But you are not ... transformed.

[ Not a monster. ]

That I ain't a dead man? Whatever it is you are?

Suppose not.

[This is getting to be too delicate of a topic.]

Ah, c'mon. Not like it matters now, right? We'll just both leave it in the past.

[ He thumbs the ring, agitated. ]

You are not monstrous.

[ But.

He shakes his head, sets his jaw. No, it doesn't matter. ]

Yes. As you say.

[ Oh. Hm. Dipper can't help but wonder if both these topics are related somehow. ]

I don't think you can't have a pet just 'cause you're undead. [ Give yourself a little credit okay.... After a brief pause, he adds on: ] —You okay?

[There's a quiet chuckle in return.]

That's almost a compliment. Careful there.

How are you with blacksmithing, with your wide versatile skills?

You remember your time displaced?

[In that case...]

Did we perhaps meet?

Oh, shit, you're back! [ here's a mood that's a total 180 from the last time they talked; friends are reappearing everywhere, it's like christmas ]

[The good thing: he's not Pidge. "Magic" is as good of an answer as anything. Besides, he still hasn't worked out what is magic and what is technology when it comes to having a psychic connection to a giant flying lion.]

Keith.

[...]

[Nope, no frowning!! Gotta keep up the smiles!!]

I'll take care of it!! It, um. Might be better than Tim...

...

I had fun with the old you!

[Meallan's hesitant to say much, still conflicted about his own experiences and not certain if he's quite willing to discuss them yet. But he does feel he owes Koltira some apology, both for what happened and the disconcerting insight he has now to what the other man might be feeling.

So his message is brief, and he doesn't quite look directly at the other elf's image.]

Koltira... I'm sorry.

That was pretty grim. I think you should keep the cat; might do some good for your mood.

[Petting cats relieves stress, right? Might not have the same effect on existential dread, but hey. worth a shot.]

So you're dead, huh.

[He sounds neither surprised nor concerned.]

Yeah... there's definitely something to be said for not ruining the past with the future, dude, I'm so here for that. Or would be, if the bugs hadn't ruined that for me, but, uh, anyway-

[ Oh my god, Stiles, stop talking?? ]

So... where did you get that cub? Find it in the woods? Do felines just flock to you like birds to a Disney princess? [ G O D this is not going any better. He could have just gone with "good to have you back", except is it, really, and also he... doesn't know the guy well enough for that.

So awkward Disney references it is. ]

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