Open Post: Hooked On A Feeling

[rememberettersberg]

What hobbies have you got? Susan had asked him, and he had to admit to not being sure. At school and for some time after, he played rugby. More recently, he only watched it on the television Peter had set up in the tech cave. Here at the mansion, he has books and research and the beginnings of mentoring, but it occurs to Nightingale that he has been building himself a facsimile of work and very little else. He's survived that way for half a century and been perfectly all right (though others may disagree with that assessment) but here, in this hinterland between realities, he is feeling a growing itch for... whimsy, perhaps.

At this moment, propping up the bar with a pint of bitter and a crochet hook, no one would dare accuse him of being whimsical. Nightingale is scowling fiercely at the hook, the yarn, his pint, and the book sitting open beside it. Company would be more than welcome.

Comments

[rememberettersberg]

"And to think I've been feeling ancient at 113," comes the very dry reply. "Was the Dark One also released? It must have been a very rude awakening if so."

[involuntaryturncoat]

He lets out a short, amused laugh. "Channeling increases lifespans, in proportion to your strength in the Power. I was over three hundred years old before bargaining for immortality, and over four hundred when I was sealed away." He shakes his head. "As of when I arrived here, he was not released fully. He was able to influence the world directly once more, but was still working toward full release. And his Chosen were... dropping. Events... fell so that even I lost my immortality, was marked as a betrayer, and ultimately killed-- or would have been if I hadn't arrived here instead."

[rememberettersberg]

"You must find yourself either terribly bored here or simply basking in the mundanity. What's a tiny undead invasion after the things you've experienced?" Nightingale grins a little.

[involuntaryturncoat]

"Oh, this place has been, by and large, a welcome respite," he says. "Undead included. I came from a world where there may have been only one man who wouldn't have happily seen me dead, and him only barely."

[rememberettersberg]

"May I ask why?" Nightingale is projecting the total lack of cop energy that has been standing him in such good stead here. "You've told me much of your world's history, and I thank you for it, but I don't think any of it explains why you might have garnered such a reputation."

[involuntaryturncoat]

"During the Collapse, and the war thereafter, lines were drawn. And I placed myself very deliberately on the wrong side of them. I do not mean the losing side, though it was, at least in that particular war. I mean the wrong side. The shadow was not a place of kindness and mercy and I rose highly in those ranks. I do not... I do not particularly care to go into detail, but there were things I did that I was unequivocally wrong to do. While we were sealed away, our names turned into specters to fear, and I cannot say that they shouldn't have been."

[rememberettersberg]

"Such self-awareness is admirable." Nightingale takes a long swallow of his beer. "I hope I haven't stirred up too much negative emotion in asking you to recount all of this. It's in my nature, I suppose, to know as much as possible about other practitioners around me. It's been my duty to protect the less powerful for a long enough time that I can't entirely switch it off." He offers up something like a smile. "But I do believe this is a place for second chances, and it seems that your thoughts already lead you down a better path."

[involuntaryturncoat]

"It's a path I stepped onto only very recently," he replies, and takes a drink of his own. "I have intended no harm to anyone since arriving, but I had not had the time or opportunity for self-reflection before I came here, and had not had the inclination after. But the day of forced truth abruptly shoved me toward a place I likely would have taken years to stumble upon on my own."

He has another drink. "It's a better path, perhaps, but it's also a markedly more difficult one."

[rememberettersberg]

Nightingale snorts. "At least that dreadful day has paid dividends for somebody, no matter how difficult."

[involuntaryturncoat]

The sound he briefly makes would be a laugh if it were remotely amused. "Dividends. I suppose that's one way of putting it."

[rememberettersberg]

"Yes," Nightingale says with a grimace. "That was a conversational misstep, I do apologise."

[involuntaryturncoat]

He waves a hand absently. "The perils of conversational missteps here are significantly lower than some places I have been."

[rememberettersberg]

"I'm not terribly good at this sort of thing," Nightingale begins with some trepidation. "But are you... well? Do you think this difficult path you're on is endurable?"

[involuntaryturncoat]

He takes a drink, quiet for a moment. "Endurable? I should hope so. I've endured much, and though there is a threshold for what I won't... I do not think that threshold is present in this place."

[rememberettersberg]

"I'm glad to hear it." He sounds like he means it.

[involuntaryturncoat]

"That puts you in select company, then."

[rememberettersberg]

"I think there are more people around here who care about you than you might imagine," Nightingale says. "For all that we've been tumbled together so haphazardly."

[involuntaryturncoat]

"I know there are some. Mostly because we've been thrown here haphazardly."

[rememberettersberg]

Nightingale laughs, gathering up the mess of his crochet. "Now, have you any idea about fibre crafts?"