lingeringhope | ic inbox

[Noah is not sure he's doing this right but he's trying. He's been thinking about this a lot, about... how Hope said he'd try to bring them back if they died. And lately it's been plaguing Noah more and more, the thought of dying again.

But not in a bad way.

He's not sure if that counts as suicidal ideals. Is it, to be nostalgic for a simpler time? When you know exactly what it means?

Noah isn't going to go out and kill himself. He doesn't want that.

But he wants to be prepared if it happens, especially after Fear brought to life their deepest fears and all.

It's just a contingency plan. That's all it is.]

Um. Uh. H-hello? H-hope? Um. I'm Noah, I'm, - uh. One of the people who came through the door thingy. [Okay, just spit it out, he doesn't have all day to sit and listen to you and wheedle you to get to the point. Or maybe he does, Noah doesn't know.] Um! You said before when someone asked, that if we died you'd try to bring us back to life? I don't know if that's had to happen for anyone yet but - uh. I wanted to request that if I die maybe... maybe don't bring me back right away? Not that I don't appreciate you doing it or trying! I just - back where I come from, I've been dead. For a while. And. I think if I happen to die being a ghost again for a little while before I go back to living might be good for me. That's all. I'm still sentient when I die, I can still feel things. So. It shouldn't be a problem, right?

Um. That's all I wanted to ask uh thank you again for like um making food for us and all that too that's really nice umthat'sall.

Very well, if that's what you wish.

[He won't ask why, mostly because he doesn't really care.]

Try not to die, though.

Well, a god having a voicemail is a new one on me, but since you don't seem the type for divine appearances...

[Amos chuckles a little. He'd been to the temple of Hope several times to ask his questions, and when no visitations or answers had been forthcoming, had gone on the hunt for a better means of communication.]

I have a coupla questions, an' you seem like the guy..sorry, god who might answer me straight. That Fear guy, he seems the sort to play head-games just for the hell of it, an' I'm just not keen on mind-fuckery.

So, first off, I hear we're all from different worlds. This true? Because this place seems awful similar to my own home.

Secondly, I've been told we're here in this ruined city as replacement believers for the...divine quarrel you've got going on with Fear. Is that true, too?

And if that's true, then what do you need from us as tribute? Existing? Sacrifices of some kind?

That's the main ones for now, I guess. I've got others, but I'm always asking too many questions, as my grandmother has told me many times. Oh, an' thanks for the food an' supplies, I hear that's your doing, too. We appreciate it.

I've no intention of appearing to any of you until I know you are trustworthy, which is not likely to ever happen.

But I can answer your questions, yes. In order: yes, sort of, and I need your hope.

Anything else?

[Ah, how interesting. Trustworthy can mean several different things, of course, from loyalty to faithfulness to honesty...but it can also mean the being in question might not be immune to harm from mortal hands. Amos tucks this away for later consideration. He considers his reply, and the phrasing, because while short-spoken, Hope has not resorted to the kind of twisted misleading phrasing some of the supernatural love to use.]

Can't say I blame you, as not a lot of us are happy with what's happened.

Sort of? So we're not pawns, or you're not quarreling with Fear?

An just hope in general? Seems easy enough....

so apparently you're the omniscient being I'm supposed to talk to if I've got questions about this place

are you growing poppies anywhere? or anything else that can produce opium, morphling, etc, etc, etc

because listen I think the last thing we both want is for me to go through really fucking awful withdrawal in this cave

You're all quite angry, Rage must be delighted. You're all also awful at placing blame where it belongs.

You're not pawns. You're more like batteries. And yes, hope. That's all.

Poppies? Not that I'm aware of.

I imagine you'll be healthier without it. Try not to die, if you can manage that.

Well, humanity has an unfortunate flaw of hanging the blame on the first available scapegoat they can see. Whether or not it's the right place to hang the blame...well. That tends to be less important than the satisfaction and security of having a visible target for frustration and outrage.

So if we're here to be emotional batteries, so to speak, you've certainly found the right species.

May I ask where we should be placing the blame for being...suddenly transported here?

It is extremely rude, considering I'm the only reason any of you are still alive.

Fear is the one who opened the Door. The blame lies with him.

fuck you and fuck your cave and your fucking health plants

Edited 2016-01-14 03:30 (UTC)

Well, that's rude.

obviously

feel free to take all of this personally

[There is amusement in Amos's voice: Hope is not wrong and it is a little funny that he's so offended by this.]

Sadly, the vast majority of humanity is capable of being very rude. But not all of us. Thank you very much for keeping us alive: I promise we do appreciate it.

I certainly appreciate you taking the time from your busy schedule to help us out.

So we blame Fear, gotchya. This "door" literal or metaphorical?

[Amos has questions about that, too, but he's content to let the conversation meander along. Either he'll get answers from Hope or he'll find out more along the way: as it is, this conversation has been very illuminating already.]

There are doctors around somewhere. You'll be fine.

I'm glad someone understand that, at least. You're welcome. I am working quite hard, appreciation is always nice.

And I suppose it's both.

I'm going to piss in your cereal

Ah, one of those magical things, then.

So we came through it to here. I suppose going home again is more complicated than going back through this door?

[Amos is curious, okay. Probably too curious for his own good.]

I wouldn't know. I've no idea how to get any of you home.

[There's a beat of silence. Huh. Amos had not really expected that.]

Well. That answers that.

Can I ask about why you and Fear are at odds with one another?

Because his existence is a constant irritation to me, and he has never done anything in his life that was even remotely decent. Any relatively intelligent being would be unable to stand him.

Of course. I don't like rude people myself.

[Well, that sorts that out. It's at least not as complicated as sibling rivalry or incest or stealing of brides or offspring or kingdoms. Amos is getting a decent idea of what exactly the situation might be here, and it's a pleasant change to charging in blind.]

So is what's going on between you an' Fear what happened to this place and its...previous occupants? Or was that something else?

[Something vaguely apocalyptic, from the looks of things, and Amos really hasn't been able to get much information from the cave-fish in the river. For one, the majority of them are blind, for another, fish don't live all that long, and finally, fish-brains are very specific kinds of brains, and they generally aren't interested in history or mythology, just eating and mating.]

You'll find that Fear is to blame for most things. He certainly hasn't assisted in any of the cleanup.

[So that's presumably a yes, though not a particularly informative one. Amos isn't sure if Hope is being deliberately obscuring or if it's just his nature to only be so direct.]

I see.

Just one more question, then I'll stop pestering you for a bit. I'm sure I'll probably find new ones, but...

Were there ever any regular animals here? Like, there's the fish, but anything else? It's just so barren here, it's a little creepy.

Do monsters not count as regular animals? You creatures are so picky.

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