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dontasktheradiodemon · 3 years

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Phone Lesson (5/5/2021 chat log)

Alastor/Astor (hi there) visits Sir Pentious/Ruddy’s (@ruddygore) ship to help teach Alastor/Offal (@offalgore) how to use a smartphone. But mostly to try to get to know his supposedly “mad” alternate.

Offal doesn’t seem particularly mad to Astor. Just really sad and, like, super insecure.

(Technically this thread happened months ago, but like, stuff happens.)

Ruddy & Offal

Sir Pentious had clearly never spent a day in Hell before now, he decided. No, his time in this inferno was nothing. A jaunt. A slither in the park compared to what he'd sat down to start attempting today.

His local Alastor was sitting on his couch after the disastrous voice to text attempt, smiling that stupid smile, nodding along as Pentious went over how a smartphone touchscreen worked... And then didn't take his gloves off before trying to poke the on screen keyboard.

If Pentious had hair, he'd be ripping it out by the fistful.

Astor

And who is here to save Sir Pentious from Alastor but another Alastor! A veritable hero.

As soon as work's over, he hops over to Sir Pentious's dimension, looks around for the most important-looking airship, and teleports in. From there it's easy to follow his alternate's signal. "Hello, hello! How are we all, having fun?"

He can tell that they are not, in fact, having fun.

Ruddy & Offal

Alastor looks at Alastor. Sir Pentious looks at both Alastors, one at a time.. and quietly decides the one local to his universe is going to be called Offal now.

Sir Pentious clears his throat, ushering Astor closer. "FUN IS ONE WAY TO PUT IT. IT'S STRANGE, IT DOESN'T CARE FOR HIS VOICE IN THE SLIGHTEST. TELL HIM TO TAKE HIS GLOVES OFF TO TOUCH THE SCREEN."

Astor

"Oh, that's a common problem! Not to worry, we can fix that. The gloves though, *that's* interesting." Astor leans over to examine the phone, presses a gloved finger to the screen, and tries to scroll it around. It works. "Well! Time to figure out if the issue's electrical, physical, or magical! What's your glove made from, my friend?" He holds out a hand to his alternate, palm up.

Ruddy & Offal

Offal watches Astor wiggle the lights around on the horrible little rectangle, almost missing the question entirely. A blank stare for a moment, then his brain catches up and he jerks a hand up to show off an impressively worn deerskin glove... Which he peels back just a touch to reveal the edge of another glove underneath, this one a softer fleece. "Which one, my good self? There's a selection!"

Astor

"Ah! *That* might be the problem." He taps the glass screen with a claw. "You see, the way this thing works is that there's just the faintest layer of static on the surface! You break it when you touch it, and where you break the static layer tells the phone where you're touching! Like when you touch a doorknob and get a little shock. Now, clothing can't break it, skin *can* break it, and that tiny little field of magical energy that hovers right by our skin can break it—but I'd guess that field can reach through one glove layer but not two!" He pauses for a second to think; then nods at the phone and says, "Try reaching for it like you're going to make a deal with the phone—with all that energy focused in your hand. Let's see if *that* lets you reach through your gloves."

Ruddy & Offal

There's hesitation, a flash of discomfort before Offal looks back to the phone. He hasn't made a deal of any sort since... Well. It didn't matter. He does as Astor says, letting his finger smoothly scroll up to refresh Ruddy's dashboard. Which serves as a perfect distraction, he can read more words from other people instead of thinking about the feeling of his magic surging through his hands again.

An eggboi chooses now to come bring Astor some coffee and a scone. He's helping!

Astor

Astor makes note of the look; but his alternate doesn't object, so he doesn't say anything either. He casts a quick glance to Sir Pentious—*look at that, progress*—and then focuses on his alternate again with a broad smile and a modest round of applause.

"There you go, just like that! With a bit of practice, you'll be able to do that second nature, without needing to spend so much of your own energy on it—thank you, my good egg." That last comment is directed to the Egg Boi as Astor takes the coffee and scone and straightens back up. "Or, if you find you don't want to waste a *drop* of magic on such a lowly machine, you can take your gloves off. *Or* you can get these new pens they make these days that have nubs on the end that look like black erasers, they're designed like fake skin to touch the screen for you. Like this!"

He opens up a portal, rummages around, and pulls out a cheap-ass pen with "CALL SINNER SALES STRATEGY FOR YOUR ADVERTISING NEEDS" on the side and a stylus tip on the back. Don't mind the stain on the pen. It's probably just blood.

Ruddy & Offal

Sir Pentious nods, accepting his own coffee before shooing the eggs away so they can't distract from this delicate display of Alastor to Alastor communication. Progress indeed. Astor was far better suited to helping another Radio Demon solve the puzzle of modern technology, no surprise there.

What's a little blood between Alastors! Offal takes the pen, squishing the nubby stylus tip a few times before scribbling on the screen. Oh, that was MUCH better. "Is THAT what these are? I thought they were a ah...." Give him a second, he's thinking. "Stim toy! A discreet little one for those high minded professionals out there!" How hilarious to be so wrong about such a simple thing!

Astor

"'Stim toy'?" He can guess that "stim" is short for "stimulation." He is absolutely prepared to be informed that a "stim toy" is some new form of sex toy.

Ruddy & Offal

Offal reaches up to brush his too long bangs out of his eyes, trying to get a good look at Astor to see if he's joking. No? *Well then*. Time to reach into his pockets and pull out a little fidget cube to press into Astor's hands, all shiny brass and black leather. Looks like Sir Pentious made this at some point, it was *heavy*. "These little doohickeys, my dear me! Completely pointless busywork for your hands. Helps stave off the gnawing teeth of boredom!"

Astor

"Oh! Hand busywork!" He hefts it and pushes some of the buttons. "Like desk toys! Newton's cradles and magnet sculptures, and those trays of sand and polished rocks with those little rakes they sell at bookstores, that sort of thing? *Stimulates the mind,* I take it?" He has, of course, immediately zeroed in on all the buttons and wheels that make click sounds. "I've always been partial to slinkies."

Ruddy & Offal

"Just the ones, never did understand why people wanted to rake sand so badly! I thought people hated yardwork!" A nod. "Slinkies are fine toys, my good self, but unfortunately, one wrong move and they twist themselves out of shape like a.. me!" He barks out a laugh, but quickly moves on. "Not very good for carrying around, unfortunately! A damn shame."

Astor

Well, that's a telling statement. "I'd sit there and painstakingly untwist them! Completely forget what I was doing! Do that with telephone cords too, you know, the curly ones."

He's gone from click-click-click-ing to clicliclicking; he offers the cube back. "Funny little thing."

Ruddy & Offal

The cube is tucked back away into a different pocket than he'd pulled it out of, coat smoothed out with a quick pat. "Funny indeed! Now.." Back to the matter at hand. The phone! Sir Pentious' phone at that, comically large in the hands of someone under twelve feet tall.

"How do I get to the typewriter, my self? Which horrid little mock buttons do I get no tactile sensation from?"

Astor

Typewriter, typewriter. He pauses as he translates that. "Now, see, that bit depends on what you want to do with it. The little typewriter will automatically appear and disappear when you need it, and there's quite a few tools in here that use a typewriter at some point. So—what, specifically, are you planning to do with the typewriter once you have it?"

Ruddy & Offal

He nearly titters. "Oh! Write one of those little telegrams that Pentious here is always on about to the public pinboard. No, dashboard. That's the one."

Astor

The "telegram" mention has him nearly redirect his alternate to the texting app, but by the end he's figured it out. "Ah! Well, lucky you, we're already looking at the dashboard, so... you see the five little symbols lined up in a row at the very bottom, there? The one smack in the middle, in the box to make it easy to see. It looks like a simple pencil but then it pulls up a typewriter and a fresh telegram, but I suppose it's close enough, isn't it? They'll both let you put words on the page."

Ruddy & Offal

"Oh! How.. intuitive." He says that with the driest voice he can muster, but quickly sets about tapping at the screen with his little stylus. He manages to figure out the backspace and shift keys, at least, though the emoji key seems to surprise him. So many tiny pictures..... A problem for later.

A once over, and he pokes around until he figures out how to send the "telegram" off. And there it is, out for everyone to see!

Astor

Astor watches obnoxiously over his alternate's shoulder to see whether he needs help, then plays a little trumpet fanfare when he successfully posts the "telegram." "And there you have it! Nothing to it, is there?" He nods at the phone, "What other tricks were you looking to figure out?"

Ruddy & Offal

Oh, other tricks? He squints at the phone. He hadn't paid enough attention to technology after... When had he lost touch with-- No. No time for that. He prods the button again, pointing at the other symbols. "What do these do? How do I put a photograph in it?"

Astor

He goes over them one by one: "The first one with the letters changes the type face—bigger letters, cursive letters, so on, they've got half a dozen different types. The second that looks like two chain links, it lets you put in what they call a 'link' on the Internet; it's less like a chain link and more like a street address, if touching an address instantly teleported you to the location. The third one is for... I'm not really sure what that's for." He shrugs at the "gif" button. "But the *fourth* one, the one that looks like a stack of papers with a drawing on top, *that's* how you put in a photograph! And then the headphones at the end are for music, obviously." *Obviously.*

Ruddy & Offal

"Oh! A music button? Tell me more, my dear self." *Now* he's interested in the horrid little rectangle and all its bright little lights. "I met another self, the one with the wife and son? And I believe Sir Pentious mentioned he used the tumbler too.... Do you two run your stations on these?" Actually, maybe ALL his alternates were married. He didn't know. Seemed probable enough, he'd been a charmer in life after all.

Astor

"Touch the headphones and then touch at the top where it says 'search audio,' and you can type in the name of a song you want to find. It's not a very effective way to listen to music, but to be fair, you *are* trying to insert a phonograph record into a telegram! One doesn't go to the telegraph station to listen to music, does one—one goes to the record store, or the jazz club, or the theater. And there's record stores hidden elsewhere in this thing."

Wife and son? Which alternates does he know who have wives and sons? None that he's close to. He'll circle back around to that question later. "Most alternates I know are still broadcasting on AM! A few on FM. One's picked up a TV station, believe it or not. Some of us, myself included, use v#xblr—what did you say it's called in this universe, tumbler?—to advertise for our stations." He likes "tumbler" better. "I know one self who has his station set up to play on the radio *and* on the Internet at the same time, but I don't know any who are *only* broadcasting on the Internet."

Ruddy & Offal

Offal happily taps away, adding and removing a few songs and photos to get the hang of this strange system. "Oh yes, Once Sir Pentious took Vox out," and he can say Vox without censoring himself, how lovely, "he went and rebranded most of the properties he inherited. Still though, a TV station of all things? My Goodness what a shift! Good for him! I myself haven't put out a broadcast in quite a while. Not since--"

Ahem. Moving on. "A dual broadcast sounds like a good way to get the younger generations interested, goodness knows I've heard enough about Pod Casts. Sir Pentious is unfortunate enough to listen to them." And oh, his heart breaks at the very THOUGHT.

Astor

*Not since.* Astor wonders—would that be his alternate's rampage after cannibal colony fell? From what Astor's heard about it, he wouldn't consider that "quite a while"—but maybe his alternate is trying to distance himself from the incident.

Either way, his alternate doesn't want to talk about it, so Astor won't pry. "*Podcasts.*" He scoffs. "For the people unwilling to commit their time to a scheduled radio program but unwilling to commit their money to an audiobook. The worst of both worlds."

Ruddy & Offal

The accused snake is rolling his eyes, but refraining from commenting. He's had this debate a *hundred* times. Offal, on the other hand, seems QUITE pleased that his Dear Self shares his opinion, nodding firmly as he side eyes Sir Pentious. You hear that, buddy? Yeah that's right.

"Ah well! No accounting for taste, this is Hell after all! Shouldn't surprise us that a bunch of loathsome sinners have no appreciation for the wonders of radio!" A comical shrug, and he looks around. What, no coffee for him? Fine. A concerningly long silly straw appears in Sir Pentious' tea, half of the liquid vanishing into Offal's mouth in one SUCC. He doesn't even like tea, he just needs something warm to lube up his throat.

Astor

"It's a pity! But it's their loss!"

Oh, c'mon, dude, don't antagonize one of the only two people in this universe willing to talk to you. Astor quietly holds out his coffee cup. Here. Take it.

"A bit ago, you mentioned an alternate of ours with a wife and son? Which one was that?"

Ruddy & Offal

Sir Pentious SIGHS.... And pours himself more tea. He's used to Offal's antics at this point, though why the eggbois are so hesitant to be around him is a mystery. Coffee for ONE of his guests was just insulting. And look, here comes an egg already to offer Astor another cup. *Embarrassing*.

Offal accepts the coffee, immediately taking a hearty sip to get the taste of earl gray out of his mouth before he speaks. "Ah! Yes! I'd give you a name, my dear me, but. Well. You know! I mean the one with the long black hair and the glasses. He visited Sir Pentious with his wife once or twice while I was over, lovely couple. Very cozy! He's a smidgen overprotective if you ask me, but I suppose if I got married I'd hover over whatever unfortunate soul dazzled me too! And a second child on the way! Incredible!" Another of those sharp laughs. "Does that narrow it down enough, my self? I know there are *apparently* a number of us out there!"

Astor

Long black hair, glasses, recently visited... Alastor narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Is his 'wife' Valera?" he asks. "Valera and child Pelagios?"

Ruddy & Offal

"I didn't catch his son's name, and I'm not certain on the wife, he wouldn't even let me near her without looking ready to snap my neck! Is Valera a bit of fish? Tall? Big horns? Big tail? Big... eyes?" He's miming around himself, trying to portray various aspects of his alternate's spouse's grandiose features. Honestly he wasn't sure how his alternate didn't get lost in the hair alone, but to each their own.

Astor

"... One moment." He reaches over to the phone his alternate is using, does a quick search, and pulls up one of Valera's selfies. "Is this the fish in question?"

Ruddy & Offal

Give him a second while he squints at the phone.. "That's the one! Though she's quite a bit slimmer in this picture than in person." Snrk snrk. "But yes, that's the one! Are *all* of my alternates out there getting domesticated into doting husbands?"

Astor

"They're not married," Astor says flatly. "If they told you they are, either they were playing a little joke, or else they're conducting the world's most poorly concealed affair. I certainly hope they *didn't* tell you they are?" Because if they did, then Astor has to go fucking ask them about it, which is going to be excruciating for everybody involved and won't even resolve anything.

Ruddy & Offal

Well *that's* a weird reaction. Offal raises an eyebrow, but takes another sip of his coffee and decides to see where this is going. "My own self informed me they were in a rather intense on and off again relationship. Seven times divorced and counting, or somesuch? I found it rather hard to believe, really, but after seeing the way he looked at her?" He snorts. "No, those goo goo eyes wouldn't be on anyone who was just playing at a bit. And I haven't had a chance to ask his wife yet, as I said. Can't go near her."

Astor

*Oh.* The divorce gag is back. Or never left, whichever. "The divorces are an inside joke. But however goo goo his eyes were, they are not and have never been married—or else I think the Sir Pentious that Valera's been engaged to since long before meeting our alternate would have had something to say about it. The son was adopted from deadbeat relatives, and the egg on the way is said Sir Pentious's." He leans back over to the phone and keeps on scrolling through the selfies until he finds a picture of Valera and Penny being cutesy together.

Ruddy & Offal

Offal tilts his head one way and then the other, his ears twitching slightly as his brain turns the information over. So his dear self had lied to him, then. Or this dear self was lying. Was his own self an unreliable narrator? Maybe he'd forgotten. He did forget things, sometimes important things. Was this dear self going to mock him for believing another dear self? Maybe. But he knew what he saw! Probably. Maybe. Maybe not? Probably not, really. This sounded like something he'd misunderstand.

He feels heat creep over his cheeks, and his head ducks down to let his overgrown hair hide his face.

Astor

No comment? Odd. Odd and uncomfortable. Better fill that silence. "Although they *can* get..." He's silent for a moment, grimacing, a clock ticking sound unfortunately highlighting just how long he's struggling to find a delicate way to put it. "... Clingy."

Although if Leal had guarded Valera from even *talking* to this alternate, that was quite a bit more protective than usual. Is Leal really *that* afraid of this alternate?

Ruddy & Offal

Offal clenches his jaw until his teeth creak. He'd ask later. He'd ask his dear self about it later, if he remembered. Deep breath, and he sits back up with the same smile as always. "Hah! They certainly can! The way he wrapped himself around her, you'd think my dear self thought I'd lay a finger on a pregnant woman! And his *"beloved"* At that! No no, I would never harm a mother OR my dear self's beloved! I wouldn't!" He wouldn't. He didn't think he would.

He stares at Astor for a moment, a beat of dead air and a blank smile. Then he continues. "So what IS the deal with them then, my dear self? Has a casual friendship turned from the occasional embrace to protective amulets and wrapping around your beloved like a fashionable scarf while I wasn't paying attention?"

Astor

The radio doth protest too much. He's trying to convince himself as much as Astor, isn't he? "Oh, I'm quite sure you wouldn't, my friend, *quite* sure!" And for the purposes of this conversation, Astor believes it wholeheartedly. This alternate needs somebody other than himself to believe in it, doesn't he?

"Oh, well—I wouldn't call that a *casual* friendship. That other of ours has a tendency to... Well, you know how touching another person's flesh feels like dipping one's hand in a vat of acidic mold! I think when he meets people that *don't* feel like that, something in his head concludes it's some sort of spiritual bond." A shrug. "That's the best I can make of it, anyway. But no, I wouldn't exactly call that the norm."

Ruddy & Offal

Offal is seized by the sudden, wild urge to grab his dear self by the shoulders and beg him to repeat that. He's sure? Is he sure? He wouldn't do it he swears but is his dear self SURE he believes him? But no. That's pathetic. So instead he brushes the reassurance off like it didn't affect him, biting the inside of his cheek as he hears the rest out.

... Someone who DOESN'T feel like acid? Well, it made sense. No wonder he could drape himself all over her and have two children-- Wait no, this dear self said they *weren't* his. But still. The hugging and nuzzling and all the kisses he'd watched his dear self pepper all over the fish's face made much more sense when it wasn't something he'd have to fight through the screaming urge to recoil to do. His mouth moves before his brain can, voice thick with bitterness. "Lucky him."

Astor

Lucky? He *wants* that? Poor fellow, Astor doesn't think there are any alternates he pities more than the ones who can't handle physical affection but long for it. Except maybe for the ones who have no trouble with it and get themselves into the same torrid affairs as the rest of the human race. Or the ones who find physical contact so revolting they can't stand to so much as think about it, much less hear anyone else discuss it.

... Which means he pities just about every alternate who doesn't share his *exact* personal levels of indifference, doesn't it? Maybe he's biased. Oh well.

He doubts his alternate would appreciate hearing that it's really not all it's cracked up to be—grass is always greener—but maybe he can help another way. "Well, here, have you ever tried direct contact with another of yourself?" He tugs a glove down to his knuckles and offers the back of his hand to his alternate—not to shake, no threat of a deal. "Most of us find most of us safe to touch, if you want to test it out."

Ruddy & Offal

The bolt of panic that shot through him when he realized he'd voiced his thoughts, surprisingly, didn't get much to work off of with Astor's reaction, and thus fizzled out somewhere between his fourth and fifth rib as he watches his dear self start peeling his glove back and exposing *scandalous* amounts of Bare Hand.

Well he can't just leave his poor dear self be the only one exposing himself here. If the man is going to offer up something wildly uncomfortable, it's Offal's job to match him. His own gloves are peeled back with a bit of a struggle, the back of his hand pressed to his dear self.

......... Well it. Wasn't acid. It didn't really feel like anything at all, really. Which was an improvement, but not the bolt of near euphoria he remembered from life in the rare instance of being able to tolerate someone's touch. "It feels like I sat on my hand! Still, that's the best I've handled any physical contact since I was a teenager!" Poor maman had been heartbroken when he started wriggling out of her hugs... Why did he remember that?

Astor

He idly wonders what changed when his alternate had been a teenager. Maybe nothing; maybe that was just when he'd let himself become aware of how unpleasant touch is. "Not all that exciting, is it? Just like touching anything else, except this time it happens to be a person. I think that's all it is for most people, most of the time; it's only remarkable when it's an exception."

Ruddy & Offal

"I'm sure!" And the gloves are slipped back down to their proper position. Experiment over, send those results in to be filed away! "Say, my dear self! How well do you know my dear self's.... *Companion?* Is she as scaly as she looks? Cold and slippery? Physically, not emotionally! But if she's both, well that'd be fitting!"

Astor

"Huh. Well..." He has to stop and think about that. "I've only had reason to touch them a few times, never without clothes in between, but... I wouldn't say cold and slippery, but cool and smooth, certainly. And the scales are really scales, yes."

Ruddy & Offal

"Cool and smooth.." He ponders that. So she really felt like a fish, then! Fish scales had certainly never made him recoil the way human touch did. Maybe that's how his dear self had managed it. Simple and effective. Negate the problem by just. Not touching skin.

He nods to himself, tapping his chin. His dear self was certainly clever. "What is she like? You said she was engaged to a Pentious, so I can assume she's either deaf or has the patience of a saint." Sir Pentious huffs from his chair, but stays out of it.

Astor

"Well, I've spent the last couple of months rehearsing with Valera for a musical, so either she's not deaf or she has a clairvoyant sense of pitch!" Astor laughs. "She *is* patient, as it happens; but her fiancé isn't as difficult to get along with as you'd think! Get through the first hour of defensive posturing without trying to poke holes in his shield, and he'll set it aside and have a civil conversation with you. It's just most people don't see the point in enduring that first hour, see. I'd even say he's easier to get on with than this one!" Astor tips his head toward Ruddy. "Sure, at least this one starts out cordial, but you've practically got to hand him a resumé and two character references before he'll let you do him a favor."

Ruddy & Offal

There's an AWFUL lot of little tidbits Offal could follow up on, there. But he'll come back for those in a moment, it seems like his dear self has a lot to say about snakes. "I disagree, my dear self! Sir Pentious here is the least cordial being I've ever met AND he never lets me do him any favors."

Anyway, enough about snakes. If he talks too much about Sir Pentious he might get kicked out again. "So! The fish-- Valera. I should call her by name, my goodness. You know her fairly well then? Working together for your musical and all. Is she.." He has to consider his words, here, lest he imply things. "She's patient. Is she.. kind? To my dear self? If my dear self got attached so quickly, I would hate to hear it was to someone unsuitable!"

Astor

"Did your resumé's cover letter say 'Dear Sir Pentious' or did it say 'To whom it may concern'? Maybe that's the difference." A wink, he's just teasing. ... But no yeah that probably is the difference.

"I know Valera well enough! And they're kind, yes—if anything I'd call them a little *too* concerned with how everyone else is doing, but that's a matter of personal preference, isn't it! Some people put on a mask as a test to discover who wants to see underneath, other people put on a mask because they're actors and they don't appreciate audience members getting on stage to tug it off.

Ruddy & Offal

Vaguely disgruntled noises from Sir Pentious, and a single sugar cube goes sailing over to bounce harmlessly off Offal's mass of hair. He doesn't even seem to notice.

TOO concerned... Interesting. "I take it you're the latter, my dear self! I imagine most of us are. She sounds like a bit of a busybody, no good for letting a performance run smoothly." Not that he necessarily minded that. If his dear self was anything like he was, having someone fret and fuss over his _feelings_ of all things had probably been an unexpected high.

Astor

Astor is momentarily terrified but then relieved when the incoming sugar cube bounces off his alternate's head instead of his. Okay good, he was right.

"I certainly am! Most of our others tend to be the same—only a handful of people are allowed backstage. Although there are exceptions, of course, all perfectly within the normal variations of Radio Demons." Offered just in case this alternate happens to be one of the exceptions. Astor doubts it—he doesn't think this alternate's been giving peeks behind his mask because he wants people to see so much as because the ribbon that's supposed to keep it up is fraying—but from what he's heard, if *anyone* could use someone peeking in, this one could.

But no prying. If this one doesn't invite Astor in, then it probably means that what he wants most is to be treated like everything's perfectly normal, so that's how Astor will treat him.

Ruddy & Offal

Normal variations... Oh, yes now there's a topic. "If it isn't too much to ask of you, my dear self, tell me about some of the other varieties of radio demon around. I've only seen two and the differences are already rather stunning!"

Astor

"Well, who do you want me to start with! There's me, the one I mentioned with a TV station, you've met the one Valera knows, another who spends most of his time mentoring a college radio station, one that's ascended to some sort of godhood... These are just the recent local ones, mind, I've met more than I can count beyond that—but I figure you'd want me to start with the ones you might actually meet! What or who do you want to hear about first?"

Ruddy & Offal

Offal was expecting the first few. Yes, he could see a better version of himself working with a college, if he squinted. A bit out there, but not unbelievable. But the casual mention of godhood had him choking on his coffee. Pardon him while he tries to pretend he isn't hacking up a lung here. "Apologies, my dear self." *Ahem.* "When you say godhood, you're exaggerating I hope?"

Astor

His smile widened. "He goes by *the Engineer*—Engi to friends. He independently devastated his own Earth with nothing but his own raw power, and plays around with the surviving population for his own fun. He can transport himself anywhere unaided, absentmindedly wander backwards and forwards in time without noticing, plant visions in your head more real than any hallucinogenic you've ever had or signal you've ever received—all while never once breaking character! Why, half the time he speaks in advertising jingles! Whether or not that qualifies him for godhood depends on one's definition of a god, doesn't it? But consider what you or I can do, and imagine how powerful one of us would have to be before I'd consider him out of our league entirely. Whatever you call him, he's something that's moved beyond humanity."

Ruddy & Offal

He keeps as neutral a smile as he can as Astor spins what can only be *incredibly* out there lies, nodding politely and taking a much more measured sip of his drink. So this dear self was the liar, then, and Leal really did have some kind of fish wife. Really, a dear self that was that powerful..? That was just too far. Not remotely plausible. But quite the story! "Well well! What a fellow he must be! Perhaps I'll meet him someday, if I ever get out of this pit! In the meantime though, what about that college radio chap? What's his bag, my dear self?"

Astor

He could see that change in demeanor, that quick shift from shocked disbelief to indulgent neutrality, that rapid loss of all curiosity. Why? What could he stand to gain by lying about something so outrageous? Did this one simply assume Astor would spin tall tales to his own self—why, for the fun of it? To mock him? Out of some pathological need? Did he think he was delusional and the Engineer was some fantasy? Astor quickly cycled through anger and hurt and humiliation before he managed to snap on his own polite smile. "I'm sure you will, he likes his alternates. Turn the dial on any radio all the way to the left until it cracks a little and ask for him." Let this one get his *own* verification. And Astor's going to kick Leal when he sees him next. Maybe he wouldn't have gotten such a cold reception if this alternate had never been given reason to think his other selves were untrustworthy.

What does he say about Alexa to distinguish him from the others—that in his universe all radio stations broadcast from a singular tower and he's the self-appointed guardian of them all? "You might not find him convincing." Astor smiled wanly and sipped his coffee.

Ruddy & Offal

Ah, not as subtle as he'd hoped. Damn, he'd fallen out of practice. Offal's smile twitches a bit, but he chuckles and waves an airy hand. He's fine. It's fine. This is fine! "I'll have to give it a go sometime, meet this.. Engineer, you said? For myself!" He glances at Ruddy, still curled up in his armchair and seemingly oblivious to the radio chatter. "Off of Sir Pentious' ship, of course! I'm already overstaying my welcome, having a surprise guest over would get me dropped from the bay doors in a heartbeat! Again!" There's a rumble of agreement from the snake. Not as oblivious as he seems, then. But any drive to talk about this other self was nipped in the bud, Astor's less than subtle jab hitting its mark with enough emotional impact for Offal to outright flinch. So he just.. nods, and grips his cup tighter.

Astor

It hadn't been meant as a jab, but a shield. He didn't think it had been taken that way. He had no idea how it *had* been taken, but a flinch wasn't what he thought it would cause. Well, great. Now he didn't just feel stupid and small; he felt stupid, guilty, and downright microscopic.

Come on, Alastor; you're the professional communicator, salvage this. "Anyway—pretty soon you'll find that anything that can vary between two people, does between our alternates somewhere. Including the things you wouldn't expect to be variable, even..." He tried to think of an example; but any that were big enough to make his point would probably be too big for his other to believe now. "Well—I don't yet know enough about you to say what you'd find unusual versus what you'd find mundane, do I! Any trait I could try to name as an outlier, you might say 'why, but that's just what I'm like!' And then wouldn't I look the fool?"

Ruddy & Offal

Oh no. This sounded like he was being nudged to talk about *himself*. Was he being nudged to talk about himself? That was the LAST thing he wanted to do. Offal wanted to find the perfect, most average Alastor experience, adopt that as his story, and never draw any attention to himself that wasn't one of his dear selves nodding in agreement at how very... Alastor..y.. he was. But he'd already screwed *that* up, and it was sounding like, from what his dear self was saying, his little plan was doomed from the start.

Deep breath. "I suppose so! You'll ah.. Have to excuse me, my dear self. I am still struggling to grasp the notion of seeing other people running around with my face!" A slightly too high pitched laugh. Come on, rein it in. "Perhaps it will be easier to grasp the differences if I don't think of them as my selves! Just.. Cousins."

Astor

Was that nervousness? Astor was just fucking up all over, wasn't he. "Why, I don't know what you want to be excused for!" (He really didn't.) "Mutiversal variations are endlessly fascinating, really—you get used to seeing your face on other people, but you never quite stop being surprised at the new variations. For my own part, I see my others as... as something like cousins and brothers and my own self all at the same time. An alternate is never quite the same person as you but never quite a different person from you, either; but there's no comfortable place in between the categories to put them either, so they're in all categories at once."

Ruddy & Offal

Sir Pentious snorts, lowering his newspaper to look pointedly at Offal. He knows what this idiot is on about, and he's not about to sit through thirty minutes of agonizing social awkwardness while Astor fumbles for a clue. "I'VE SPOKEN TO A NUMBER OF ALASTORS BY NOW, AND IT IS MY _EXHAUSTED_ OPINION THAT YOU'LL FIT RIGHT IN WITH THE PARADE OF _THESPIANS_. DON'T TAKE THAT AS A COMPLIMENT."

Sir Pentious slithers from the room with a huff, off to refill his empty cup. Offal looks.. weirdly reassured. And so he turns to look his dear self, and blurts out the first thing that comes into his fool head. "I died at twenty seven. How old were you?"

Astor

Astor's struggling smile wilts even further at Sir Pentious's jab. He's just striking out with everyone today, isn't he? He keeps his mouth shut until Sir Pentious is gone, then mutters, "Figures, doesn't it. You go above and beyond to help a man with his work, and after that he calls you a 'thespian' like it's some kind of vermin that'll spoil your picnic." He sighs harshly. "*Sorry.* I think I tuned out for a moment, there. You were saying?"

Ruddy & Offal

Offal's smile twitches down, head cocking to one side as he loosens his death grip on his coffee. Well _that_ came out of nowhere. Astor's question is dismissed with a sharp shake of his head, and Offal uncurls to lean towards his alternate. "My dear self, you think he dislikes you?"

Astor

Eyebrow arched, he says dryly, "He's certainly never suggested he *likes* me. I know Sir Pentiouses are much louder when they're peeved than when they're pleased, but generally they drop *some* hint if you've won their approval. I suspect he finds me forgettably neutral."

Ruddy & Offal

Offal shakes his head. "He likes you quite a bit, my dear self! If he didn't, he'd never leave you unattended in his ship. Or even let you in." He shrugs, gesturing around them. "I know he's.. prickly, but he's talked about you with respect."

Astor

Astor isn't so sure about *that*—thus far he's been allowed on board when he has something to offer and has demonstrated he won't cause trouble. That makes him *minimally trustworthy and occasionally useful,* not *likable.*

But that last bit gives him pause. "Has he. With *respect*-respect, or just without *dis*respect?"

Ruddy & Offal

"Respect-respect! I've known Sir Pentious since I landed here, and in that time the only people he's ever been anything approaching sweet to are ladies. If you want him to speak kindly, try wearing a bonnet and fluttering your lashes!" He snickers, but he's completely serious.

Astor

A huff. "In my experience, his others reserve 'sweet' for lovers and 'kind' for close friends—and infrequently at that. No, I'm not expecting any of *that* out of him." But there are ways one can demonstrate approval for a person without having to be *kind* to them. Like by publicly stating that a given person is the only version of them that one respects. And Astor is not the Alastor that received that honor.

He decides not to ask what exactly Sir Pentious has been saying about him. He's afraid to find out that it isn't genuine praise but rather *you'd be less insufferable if you were more like your alternate, let me tell you what he does that you don't measure up to—* Besides, it would feel needy. "Well, you've known him longer—I'll trust that you've had more experience picking up his subtleties." It's half true.

Ruddy & Offal

A shrug, and Offal puts down his empty cup. He's rubbish at reassurance, but he wants SO badly to connect to his self.. "I do! Earlier, what made you wilt? That was him.. reassuring me." Oh, that IS embarrassing to admit. Soldier on.

"I'm sure you've figured out that I'm not quite. Matched up. To yourself. Or others of my dear selves." His shoulders droop, but he squares himself back up to continue. "He's aware of my feelings. Not that I ever _admitted_ them." Hrmph. "It's horrible, I'm freeloading in the airship of a man who can _read_ me!"

Astor

Oh, was the wilting that obvious? He very nearly internally cringes at himself too hard to catch the substance of what his alternate is really saying. But he does catch it.

"My goodness, aren't you the unlucky one—stuck with the only Sir Pentious capable of reading anything subtler than a billboard." Dumb joke to lighten the mood; but Astor quickly sobers up. If his alternate is openly talking about the subtext now, then he can talk about it too.

"I've figured out you're having a bad year, yes. But I don't think the rest of us are as matched up as you might think. Or if what you mean is you think you're *lesser* than us?" He snorts dismissively. "Sure, you look at the Hell Broadway performer, the TV manager, the college mentor, the *god,* all of that, and my oh my don't they sound like an impressive lot! Living their best afterlives, aren't they? But that leaves out all the drug habits, the suicidal gestures, the identity crises, the breakdowns, the burnouts... Oh, we're quite the pack of fireworks, aren't we? Flashy and loud, and all too prone to catching fire and exploding."

A wink, "But none of that's fit for broadcast, is it? A good announcer puts on a smile and his best persona and makes sure the audience can't tell he's got a hangover! Even if his audience is his fellow announcers. See—you match up with us, after all."

Ruddy & Offal

Offal's smile is thin, but he nods appreciatively towards Astor as his cheeks turn slightly pink. It's a comfort to hear, he'll just need time to roll the thought around in his head. At least this dear self is being honest with him, or if he's lying, doing a damn good job. It makes it less humiliating to have done what felt like pulling his own organs out to show off.

"I suppose you're right, my dear self. Easy to get razzle dazzled even by your own selves, if you're already full of self loathing. And I'm afraid I've let myself fall rather far from my own graces! No broadcasts, I haven't even been to my own house in.. Who knows HOW long. What a waste of a good garden, I'm sure the flowers are all dead by now." He sighs, reaching up to brush his too long hair out of his face. "A shame, it's a nightmare getting plants to grow down here, let alone flower and reproduce. Maybe I can.. try again. Eventually." Now that's wishful thinking. But his dear self doesn't need to hear him get TOO melancholy over some ridiculous flowers.

Astor

Astor leans closer, fixes him with a look, and says meaningfully, "You have a *house?*" The corner of his mouth twitches. He sits back up. "Oh, that's the trouble, isn't it? We're good even at dazzling each other! And then trying so hard to be dazzling in return nobody can see past the lights to realize that *most* of us think we're the one black hole in a sky full of stars." Astor doesn't think he's ever managed to discuss this with an alternate before, even though he's sure he'd met enough alternates to figure it out a couple decades back. Ironically, the fact that this alternate currently can't keep his mask on makes things easier—not that Astor is going to make him self-conscious by mentioning that.

"I've got some okra and bell pepper potted right now—remarkably hardy strains, too. I could give you some seeds if you need to restart your garden. I'm making plans for a little herb garden, too—nothing ambitious, just what I can squeeze into a window planter."

Ruddy & Offal

"Of course I-- Ah. I see your point." He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. His dear self was right, though having such an honest discussion still felt incredibly wrong. But maybe that was good. They were both breaking rules, talking like this.

"A window planter? I think you could manage a decent selection of herbs with that, if you're not too worried about the aesthetics. You could probably even manage some cherry tomatoes if you fashioned a little trellis. If anything in my garden is left, we can trade cuttings."

Oh, that wasn't supposed to be the topic here. But it was a nice distraction at least, gave him something to dig his nails into while trying to navigate difficult terrain.

Astor

"Of *course.*" Huff. He crosses his arms loosely, casually, hoping it's not obvious how painfully he's digging his fingers into his arm. It's a hard, rare thing for him to admit, *especially* to an alternate. This conversation really is breaking all the rules.

His eyes light up. "Oh, a trellis, I hadn't even thought of that! Wonderful! Hold on—" He opens a portal, pulls out his grimoire, and flips it open to two pages at a right angle so that they stand like a desktop and an adjoining wall; on the desk he's pencil sketched out a magical workspace and altar, and on the wall a couple of cabinets, a planter, and a round window. He roughly sketches in a pair of trellises curling up along the curved window frame, and then, inspired, adds some over the window that something could hang off of. "Brilliant. Yes, by all means, let's trade—the only way to get any decent produce down here is to swap snips of the stuff that survives!"

Ruddy & Offal

"Gladly, my dear self. The less I have to try and comb the market for fresh ingredients, the better." Offal tilts his head, trying to get a look at what Astor is drawing. A curved window? That looked like.. Well. That was none of his business, now was it? He pulls back, glancing at his empty coffee before his head suddenly swivels up at the sound of scales on the floor.

Ruddy enters, a fresh pot of coffee in hand, and glances between the two Alastors before nodding his head towards Offal almost imperceptibly. It was as close as he'd ever get to asking "do you need help". The returning shake was equally easy to miss, but enough for the serpent to come refill empty cups. "I'M ONLY HERE FOR A MOMENT, SUPPER IS COOKING."

Astor

Lots of places have circular windows, probably, maybe.

Astor starts. "Oh! I believe I'm being reminded not to overstay my welcome, aren't I? I won't intrude upon your supper." Pity, they were just getting somewhere.

Ruddy & Offal

Offal opens his mouth, but Ruddy responds faster, staring at Astor like he'd just grown a second head, and that second head had started speaking tongues. "IF I WANTED YOU OFF MY SHIP, I'D TELL YOU TO GET OFF MY SHIP. THERE'S A PLATE FOR YOU TOO, ALASTOR."

A loud scoff, and Ruddy twists around to slither back out of the room, leaving Offal to give Astor a 'what did I tell you' look.

Astor

"Oh, then my mistake for thinking you might be tactful about it!" He meets his alternate's gaze and rolls his eyes. "How do you like that? It takes real skill to offer someone an invitation without letting them feel the least bit welcome. I bet he's practiced."

Ruddy & Offal

"Incredible, isn't it? And this is how he is with the people he *likes*." He shakes his head, giving his coffee a tentative sip before putting it back down. WAY too hot to drink, he'll have to wait. Oh well, more time to try and reassure his dear self that Ruddy wasn't, in fact, JUST a foul tempered old man, but ALSO a cantankerous bastard of a friend who never just SAID nice things. "You may have missed it, if you weren't looking. He came in to see if I was alright. I don't know about the snakes you know, but he's rather *subtle* about any care he shows."

Astor

"Hm. 'Likes' or 'tolerates'?" Astor's still dubious of the claim that this Sir Pentious so much as respects him—and it's a steeper climb still to get from "respects" all the way up to "likes."

"They run the gamut, but some are... well, it's hard to call anybody that loud 'subtle,' but certainly they've got ways of showing concern that no one else would recognize as such. I wasn't looking until he mentioned dinner, I'll take your word for it."

Ruddy & Offal

"Of course, my dear self." Offal leans back into his seat, giving Astor a once over. Now that he wasn't in the middle of shrinking away or flinching, he had a chance to see his alternate as something other than the pinnacle of what an Alastor should be. There were flaws, probably, even if he didn't see them yet.

He was forgetting something... Oh, yes. "*Did* you want to stay for dinner, my dear self? I'm sure you could sneak out without any fuss."

Astor

"Sneak out, after getting an explicit invitation? Not without insulting him." Which didn't quite directly answer the question, but it meant he was staying.

Ruddy & Offal

"I'll take that as you're staying, then! Good. Sir Pentious always cooks enough food to put my own mother to shame, and we wind up feeding the leftovers to some college students he knows just to clear out the fridge!" Why does he know college students? Offal has no idea, but it seems like Sir Pentious just *knows* people.

Astor

Considering Sir Pentious had just helped a university worth of them unionize, Astor isn't too surprised. "Oh, well, I'm always happy to help rescue people from leftovers."

Ruddy & Offal

Offal didn't know about Sir Pentious' adventures, unfortunately. He simply nods and reaches for his coffee again. It's still too hot of course, but he's going to do his damndest to cool it down by blowing on it before the dinner bell sounds. He has nothing else to say, so unless Astor has more to say, they're just going to sit in silence.

Astor

Astor very rarely doesn't have more to say. What had they been talking about before Sir Pentious came in? Gardening, Radio Demons dazzling each other—ah. "You uh, asked something when Sir Pentious first left that I didn't catch, and we never looped back around to it. What was...?"

Ruddy & Offal

Oh, he remembered. Damn, and here Offal had thought that had been conveniently forgotten in the rest of the mess. Ah well, he'd already spilled his guts to this alternate, he may as well commit to it. A polite cough, and he nods. "Ah, I'd asked how old you'd been when you died. A bit of a silly question, feel free to ignore it, my dear self. What does it matter when we've been stuck down here for so long, really?"

Astor

"Oh, it makes some difference. Not the age itself, maybe, but what it means you lived through. I was in my mid thirties," he says automatically, before immediately amending himself: "Thirty-five. Although I don't give just anyone the exact number. You?"

Ruddy & Offal

Oh no, he's OLD. Offal's smile turns almost apologetic, coffee cup lifting to his lips as he mumbles his response. He's talking to the coffee, it's fine. "Twenty five, I think. Maybe twenty seven at most. I don't remember. Younger than thirty, that's for sure."

Astor

Oh no, he's a BABY. Never mind the fact that the gap between 113 years old and 123 years old doesn't mean much. This is an infant. "Well—see, that's a perfect example of an age that *does* make a difference. It means you're one of us that didn't fight in the war. You must have been... what, eleven or twelve during the draft?" He blinks as another thought occurs to him. "My goodness. You were still a teenager when I first went on air."

Ruddy & Offal

Just an old man and a baby, hanging out in an even older man's glorified blimp. This is going great. "Correct! Not that my father's side of the family didn't try and tell me I should go lie about my age and serve the country like a proper man. If looks could have killed, I tell you, my mother would have had a body count!" His laugh is a little bitter, but at least it's a laugh. "I don't envy your service, but it certainly sounds like you had more time to enjoy being on air. Felt like I'd barely started before I was six feet under."

Astor

"She wasn't too happy about it in my neck of the woods, either. I'd never seen her like that before."

And over a century later, it's still uncomfortable to think about. Move along. "You were on speaking terms with your father's side, then? I've found that's one of the most inconsistent things among our others. I think you and I are in the minority."

His smile thins grimly. "I'd been on air just a few months short of a decade—and it still felt like I'd barely started, too."

Ruddy & Offal

That was the way of things, wasn't it. It was always too soon to go, when you were doing something you were passionate about. He sighs, the hand not holding his coffee pushing his hair out of his face again. Maybe he should find a pair of scissors soon... But that's for later.

"I was on speaking terms with them, yes. Although they could never completely hide that they were disappointed that my father's only child was, well.." Mixed, but he's not going to say it outright. A gesture towards himself should get the general idea across, hopefully. "But I was never mistreated, and I was never left wanting."

Astor

Astor nods energetically in agreement; yes, his too. He gets it. "They kept me on the family tree and stared down any neighbors who looked puzzled when they introduced me as a cousin. There was never any question that I wouldn't become the next patriarch of the family; but they always had the decency to make like it was because I lived so far out of town. Of course, not *all* of them were quite so circumspect, but—well." Astor clicks his tongue. "Interesting how a tragic hunting accident can lighten the atmosphere at Thanksgiving dinner." He sips his coffee very coolly.

Ruddy & Offal

That startles a laugh out of Offal, but he nods in turn. Good! Good, someone understands where he was coming from. That was a relief. Some things were hard to talk about with someone who didn't share the experiences. "Couldn't put it better myself! I have no idea how they never figured me out, I doubt I was *half* as clever as I thought I was at the time. Being the patriarch would never have worked out, I barely tolerated the questions of when I'd get married to one of the nice *white* girls from the church they insisted I attend with them."

Astor

Astor blinks in amazement. "No. And I'm sure it never crossed their minds what a fix *you'd* be in if a stranger came to town and objected to the marriage." He shakes his head. That's his father's side of the family, all right. "I was far enough outside the line of succession that they saw my bachelorhood as a subject of gossip rather than as a problem to be solved. Anyway, Pa never married and only had a child with a woman he *couldn't* marry, I don't think anyone was surprised I followed in his footsteps. Ma certainly wasn't."

Ruddy & Offal

"Hah! I was.. pale enough, I suppose? That I'm sure they hoped they could just pass me off as tanned from hunting. Or maybe they just didn't think at all, who knows. Once mother died and I was stuck with them full time, they wasted no time trying to make me presentable. I'm just glad she never had to see what they did to my hair!" His smile twitches at the corners, but he wastes no time on *that* little memory. Natural causes his *ass*.

"Were I so lucky to only be gossiped about! No no, I had the misfortune of being the eldest son of the eldest son. A barely passable bastard, but one too well known to hide away. I suppose I was proud of it, in some way. I made myself quite the thorn in their side while I could!"

Astor

"I was pale enough to get away with *some* things, but not enough that I was about to try fathering Désirée's baby." Not that he'd planned on being *anyone's* father, but.

His eyes widen almost imperceptibly at the revelation that his alternate's mother died; and again, this time in anger, at the thought of anyone touching his hair. In life he'd had the same hair as his mother, and proudly so; if they dared try to take that from his other—

But he presses his lips together. That's not a can of angry worms he wants to open now. Instead, he says, "I only spent summers with them. Ma survived me."

Ruddy & Offal

They'd done a bit more than *try*, but that wasn't something either of the alternates present wanted to get into at the moment. The news that his dear self's mother survived him was enough to distract Offal from memories of hot irons and wet combs. His eyes close as his shoulders hunch, smile twisting for a fraction of a second before it snaps back into place. Deep breath, relax his posture, come on then. He'd already crossed enough lines with his alternate without *crying* over things from a hundred years ago.

"I. Well. I don't know if I should be glad to hear that or not! But it is what it is! I wish I'd had more time with mine, but I'm glad she never had to bury me." He clears his throat and goes for the coffee. A few gulps to help steady himself, that does it. "So! Do you speak French then? That was one of the only things they were happy about, though they insisted I learn *proper* French once I was in their house. And piano, though I didn't mind the piano. I'd always liked music."

Astor

None of the possible endings were good, were they? "I wish I hadn't made her bury me." It might be the plainest and opennest thing he'd said all afternoon.

But that kind of thing can only be taken in a grain or two at a time. Back to lighter topics. "*Bien sûr, mon ami!* I practiced with my father's family in the summers and with ghosts the rest of the year. In Paris a man told me I looked like somebody's grandson but spoke French like somebody's grandfather. I don't remember which side of the family got me started on piano—both had ones I could play—I was young when I started. I do know I was with Ma when I started the violin, although it was Pa's side of the family that put the idea in my head to learn. He probably paid for it, I don't know; children don't keep track of that sort of thing..."

Ruddy & Offal

"You went to Paris! How fantastic, I never got the opportunity. I... never got the opportunity to do a lot of things, really." He really *had* died young, hadn't he? It was easy to forget, until he remembered all the things he'd been *planning* on doing. But that was *depressing* to think about, lighten the mood there buddy! "The experiences are half lined up, but my French is tragically standard. Not a hint of my poor mother's accent!" He tosses his head back dramatically, the back of his hand daintily pressed to his forehead.

And then its several seconds of trying to arrange his hair once he's sitting properly again. Pthhbt. Hair in his mouth. Give him a moment. What had he been saying? "So, what was Paris like, then? Everything people said it was, or a disappointment all around?"

Astor

"Now, here's the thing, in Louisiana they thought *my* French was standard, too. It was the *French* who disagreed. I'm sure if you'd ever made it to Paris, they'd have found your French charmingly antiquated, too!" This is probably meant as reassurance.

He's watched his alternate fuss with his hair a time too many and his desire to mind his own business is now outweighed by his pity. He opens a portal, rummages around inside, and emerges with four glittery plastic barrettes that are just slightly too pink to blend into Radio Demon red hair. He wordlessly offers them. "When I was there? Lamentably full of soldiers. I'm afraid I didn't have an opportunity to absorb the culture, although I glimpsed a little in the distance. I always wanted to go back after the war, but, well." A shrug. "As it is? All I got out of Paris was my first honest-to-God demonology book."

Ruddy & Offal

It takes Offal longer than it should to figure out what his alternate is offering him, several seconds wasted on puzzling over the barrettes before he realizes what they're for. Astor gets to watch him haphazardly pin back his bangs. It doesn't look good, the man has never used a hair clip before.

"Is THAT how you got your start, my dear self? I got mine from poking my nose into the pittance of belongings I was left by my mother that I was _allowed_ to keep."

Astor

Completely satisfactory. Barrettes aren't to help you *look* good, they're to help you *see* good.

Astor is just about ready to strangle his alternate's paternal relatives. "You'd have to specify what, exactly, you're asking about the start of! I had many starts at many different things at many different times, and that was certainly *one* of them; but I'm quite certain my mother never worked with demons, so I suspect we're talking about different things!"

Ruddy & Offal

"We may just be, my dear self!" Offal plants his cheek into his own palm, finally able to look at his alternate without a curtain of hair obscuring his vision. It was strange, seeing himself sitting across from, well, himself. It wasn't like the illusions or shadow copies, this was an independent person who happened to share a face, and apparently several other things as well. "My mother didn't work with demons either, to my knowledge. She worked *against* them. It wasn't her main area of focus, not her religion, not her circus, not her monkeys. But apparently it was something she picked up when she got involved with my father? Or so the letters said, if I remember correctly."

If he were anyone else, he'd frown. But he furrows his brows instead, and shrugs his shoulders. "I'm afraid that in the absence of my mother, I was raised almost entirely Catholic. Demonology was my bread and butter once I got my hands on it. Learning how to counter them was a fine start in learning to *deal* with them."

Astor

"What in the world was your father up to that necessitated getting into demon fighting?" A huff.

"Half with Catholicism, half with Voodoo. I've been communicating with spirits since before I was born; Ma started teaching me magic before I learned to read. But I didn't start working with demons until the war. The Catholics discouraged it and the Voodooists had no business with it." He nods to his alternate, "Did you only work with demons, then?"

Ruddy & Offal

"I don't know! Never got the chance to ask." His grin grows. It's a vexing mystery, but some part of him thinks it's *hilarious* that somehow, his blandly pleasant but ultimately spineless father was out there attracting the attention of demons.

"Oh, almost entirely. I wasn't allowed any of the, as my grandparents put it, *"Blasphemous Voodoo Hoodoo Garbage"* after I moved. No no! That was a good Christian household, anything out of the ordinary was scolded out of me." He rolls his eyes, now that Astor can see them. "I did try and relearn what I could once I moved out, scrounge the scraps I could remember together, but it wasn't the easiest thing."

Astor

It's impressive how effective a sneer Alastor can produce while technically still smiling. "'Blasphemous' my entire... I used the Bible far more for conjure than I ever did for church! Try telling *that* to average 'good Christian'! Or that Hoodoo is practiced on nearly every page in the book, just by a different name!" He sighs harshly. "You were robbed." Which he's sure his alternate already knows, but sometimes it helps to hear someone else say it. "I wish I could offer to teach you whatever you didn't get to relearn, but I'm afraid I'm not qualified anymore. Maybe for some of the rootwork, but not the deeper stuff. Certainly nothing of Voodoo."

Ruddy & Offal

Offal nods, taking a few seconds to get his feelings in check before he responds. He was robbed. It was painful to think about, painful to acknowledge. And there wasn't much to be done about it anymore, unfortunately. And it stung.

"I appreciate the thought, my dear self." A shrug, and he shakes his head. "I didn't mean to turn this little social into a deep dive into my history! You've already heard enough prattle to last your whole afterlife! I'm just glad to hear my other dear selves weren't also cut off."

Astor

"Think nothing of it, I find these little compare-and-contrast sessions tend to go that way! We'll start with 'so what's *your* favorite food?' and end up on, '... and that's why I still have lingering trauma around blonde women and golden retrievers!'" He laughs. "For what it's worth, our experiences run the whole spectrum. You're not the only one who's been cut off for one reason or another. Even I was eventually. It's unfortunate, but, well! At least it means you aren't an outlier."

Ruddy & Offal

It's less of a comfort and more of him feeling a twinge of sympathy, but it's kind of his alternate to offer up that kind of knowledge trying to.. comfort him? Relate? Either way, it's appreciated.

Offal nods, empties his cup, and puts on his best grin. "Well, I can tell you my favorite color isn't red! I'm more of a fan of pink, personally. Or yellow. My mother adored yellow."

Astor

His eyes light up. "Oh, my mother's favorite was yellow too! Perhaps I should say 'is'—I doubt it's changed in the last eighty-odd years. As long as I lived, every year she'd grow yellow angel's trumpets right outside the kitchen window. It's among my favorite colors too, yellow or gold. But I'm afraid I'm terribly predictable and really do favor red just as much as my wardrobe would suggest!"

Ruddy & Offal

Should he ask his alternate why he's speaking about his mother in present tense? It's tempting. But the idea of her being, well, not *alive*, but any sort of present, is absolutely terrifying. And it wasn't even *his* mother, it was none of his business. Don't be a freak, Alastor.

"Angel's trumpets! Now those bring back memories.. I managed to get some of them growing at one point, I'll figure out how to do it again. I hope the honeysuckle is alive at least, its a stubborn enough plant that it may still be limping along." He taps his lips thoughtfully, staring off into nothing. Later. He'll worry about that later. Along with everything else. "Red is a fine color! Pink is just a bit softer, easier on my eyes. Though it'd clash *horribly* with my skin tone now!"

Astor

"Did you? *Oh!*" The corners of his mouth and eyes twitch a bit, threatening to betray just how much hearing of an alternate with living angel's trumpets yanks at his heartstrings. "I've only seen them a few times down here, and never growing free, just dried parts in tea bags. I do hope yours survived! I'd ask for a cutting, but goodness, where would I plant it? I'm sure I'd just kill the poor thing." He tuts chidingly at himself—but there's a flash of genuine melancholy in his eyes.

"I've seen a few of us with pink wardrobes! I don't think it clashes all that terribly, but then I've never had much of an eye for that sort of thing. I'm sure you could find someone to exchange fashion ideas with, at any rate!"

Ruddy & Offal

Forget the pink, look at the way his poor alternate had responded! No no, unacceptable.

"Despite the sizes I'm sure you've seen various plants reach, Angel's Trumpet *is* a shrub. You can keep a one in a pot if it suits your fancy! Mine filled half the sunroom before I moved it outside, QUITE the display!" A shake of his head, and he leans in towards his alternate again. "You've already done enough for me, you think I wouldn't help you learn how to keep a plant alive? Really, my dear self. Even if I have to start from seedlings all over again, I'd be happy to show you how I strangled life out of Hell's soil."

Astor

"That would be..." He's *tempted.* But he shakes his head. "No, no—Ma took hers inside when it got cold, and she had to plant that thing in a washbin. And I don't have a *sunroom*! Goodness me, wherever I put it, the poor thing would starve for lack of sunlight! I've got one spot with a window, but just the one window, and small; I'm going to try out those sun lamps in another place, but that's a *kitchen*, and a crowded one at that, I can't grow a massive poisonous shrub in there—I have the makeshift greenhouse at the hotel, but I was hoping to move everything out of it soon, I couldn't possibly tie myself down at the hotel again for the sake of an ornamental plant..."

He shakes his head again and smiles sadly. "I just... don't have anywhere for it."

Ruddy & Offal

Offal nods. He wasn't about to insist his alternate saddle himself with a plant just for emotional reasons, so... "Entirely understandable, my dear self! I suppose you'll just have to come see mine once its all back up to its former glory. May take some time, if my house is half as dusty as I think it is. I couldn't *possibly* have a guest over until the place looks passable again. But we can do coffee in the garden, if you'd like."

He didn't like having guests over even when he HAD lived in his house full time. But he hadn't known any versions of himself then, either. It might be interesting. Or disorienting. But if his dear self had half the emotional attachment to a few plants that he did, maybe it would do him good to be able to see some again. It was the best way he could think of to try and pay him back for this bizarre peptalk.

Astor

"Yes—yes, I'd like that. It sounds—pleasant. Whenever is convenient for you." He clears his throat and takes a sip of his coffee. Damn, almost slipped up and had emotions for a second. "If you find you could use a second pair of hands to help get your garden back in order—well, I don't get nearly enough practice these days!"

Ruddy & Offal

He is not going to comment on the nearly emotional display. Glass houses and all that, this alternate had already tolerated him being as close to hysterical as he could tolerate, let the man have a dignified wobble. Instead Offal cheerily snaps his fingers, letting himself speak more loudly. Bombastic! Cheery! No emotional anguish here! "Oho! And here I thought I was going to have to beg Sir Pentious to loan me a few eggs. Yes, you'd be most welcome to come help me dig out my... What did he call it.. *Depression Pit*. It'd be good to trust in my assistant's competence instead of having to run to hide the fine china."

Astor

*Depression pit.* Well, *that* wasn't very optimistic. "I imagine all they'd be useful for is contributing their shells to the fertilizer! I'm sure I could offer much more help! We'll get your garden back in shape, never you fear."

Ruddy & Offal

"Fertilizer, certainly, and they don't make bad starter pots if you clean them out well! You just have to make sure you crack them apart once you're putting the plant in the ground." He pauses, then taps a fingertip to his own cheek. "I... appreciate the assistance. Once we have it fixed up, we'll have to at the very least set you up with a fresh bouquet. Less permanent, but you can dry the flowers."

Astor

"Now there's an idea! I suppose their shells would be thick enough for it, wouldn't they?"

His face lights up at the offer of a bouquet. "I'm sure it would make a lovely decoration! Thank you, my friend, that sounds delightful!"

Ruddy & Offal

"Glad you think so! I'm sure we can keep you well supplied with flowers when you want them, this Hell doesn't have much in the way of seasons beyond Hot and then Hot and Raining. At least the plants love it!"

And there's the dinner bell, right on schedule. Offal gestures towards the doorway, tilting his head towards Astor. "I hope you're hungry, my dear self!"

Astor

"You have *hot and raining*? We got the short end of the stick! All we have is *hot*! With a few surprise days, peppered in like sprinkles in a confetti cake!"

His ears flick at the bell. "Aren't I *always* hungry!" He heads for the door—but his alternate has better catch up fast, Astor isn't actually sure where he's going.

Ruddy & Offal

Uh oh, time for Offal to do the awkward little half jog everyone hates, look at him go. Once he's caught up to his alt he can settle into a more dignified walk. "The kitchen and dining room are this way! Just follow the sound of Sir Pentious humming! Or, failing that, the line of eggbois. They're like ants, I tell you!" It's okay to kick eggbois out of the way. It's fine.

Astor

"Why, do *they* eat?" Squinting at the Egg Bois. The ant comparison may have thrown him off, he's imagining they're invading the dining room like ants at a picnic. He's not about to kick them though, he is a *guest.*

Ruddy & Offal

"Do they eat? My dear self, they'll eat anything you let them shove into their mouth." His grin widens. "Don't ask me where it goes, I have no idea! I saw them swarm a sinner and eat him once, though. Gone in seconds, never saw the fellow again." He nudges another eggboi out of his way with the side of his foot, one of the fancy faberge ones.

"...I don't think they get hungry though, they just like putting things in their strange yolky mouths."

Astor

"Hm! The one I've seen, they'll eat if you tell them to, but they won't do it on their own." He regards them curiously. Multiversal differences. "Self-seasoning omelets."

Ruddy & Offal

There's a loud snort. Seems like Astor managed to almost get a laugh out of Ruddy! Not that you'd guess it by his expression when he leans out of the kitchen. A fistful of rolled silverware is shoved at Offal, and then Ruddy vanishes back into the kitchen before he emerges properly with a tray of garlic bread. A last minute addition he'd thrown in, but EVERYONE likes garlic bread. Off to the dining room, a comically huge amount of food was waiting!

Astor

Oh, he was overheard. He doesn't think he caused any offense, but just in case, he throws in, "Of course, I'm not going to scramble any without permission!" He's pretty sure this Sir Pentious isn't accustomed to Alastors asking permission, it can't hurt to throw in a reassurance.

And it's a good thing Astor reminded *himself* he's asking for permission, or else he might have casually snagged a slice of garlic bread off the tray on the way to the dining room. In a herculean display of self-control he holds off, and in the dining room waits eyeing the feast to be told how seating is to be arranged.

Ruddy & Offal

Such strength... Such restraint. Offal has no such thing, and tries to grab for a slice before the tip of Ruddy's tail darts up to slap the back of his hand. Neither of them comment on it, and Offal meanders off to one end of the table on his own. Ruddy pulls out a seat for Astor, and sits at the other end of the table, tail coiled around and around his seat to keep anyone from tripping on him.

A moment to get himself arranged, and Ruddy plucks up a slice of the bread. Better to do it now, before the radio demons inhaled it all. "HELP YOURSELF, THERE'S MORE GARLIC BREAD IN THE OVEN."

Astor

Astor made the right move on the garlic bread. He hates to try to make himself look good merely by avoiding the decisions that make the alternate he's decided he'd like to help look worse; but like, he'll take it.

He takes his seat and then a slice of garlic bread—but it's a close race. "Quite hospitable of you to let me stay!"

Ruddy & Offal

There's that look again, like Astor had grown a second head. Ruddy takes his time to respond, fixing his plate up before he *harrumphs* at his guest. "WHY WOULD I NOT? YOU WERE HERE WHEN IT WAS TIME FOR SUPPER, I HAVE PLENTY TO SPARE FOR A GUEST OR TWO." A pause as he sets his napkin in his lap, can't forget his manners here. "TAKE SOME WITH YOU WHEN YOU GO, TOO. IT'D BE A SHAME TO WASTE THE LEFTOVERS."

Astor

"If you hadn't wanted a dinner guest you could have made some excuse to kick me out. Or skipped the excuse! Now, you accept my gratitude without making a fuss." He serves himself. It's time to Judge this cooking.

Ruddy & Offal

Ruddy opens his mouth to respond, but closes it again with a huff. *Fine*. He has to see what his guest thinks of his cooking anyway, it'd been a while since he'd cooked for anyone but himself or his squatter guest, and Offal was expected to praise his cooking just to keep from getting booted off the ship to find somewhere else to freeload. Astor was under *no* such obligations.

Offal of course, is already plowing through his serving and getting ready for a second. That garlic bread had his name on it, watch out.

Astor

Well, clearly this Sir Pentious doesn't think "seasoning the food" meant "adding salt," which is a good first step. The cooking style is definitely British (derogatory), but if Alastor couldn't drum up an appreciation for foods low on additional flavoring, then he wouldn't have a penchant for raw human flesh, now would he? Satisfying him takes either a high-quality recipe or high-quality ingredients.

And luckily, Sir Pentious has the latter. Alastor gives him a pointed look. "*You* have a supplier."

Ruddy & Offal

Look how that serpent preens, he's so VERY smug about his food. Oh, did you notice? Did you notice the fresh snap of the vegetables? The decided lack of that almost spoiled aftertaste to the meat? Oh, it's nothing special..... He hums, and then answers as matter of factly as he can despite the insufferably smug aura.

"SUPPLIERS. PLURAL. OF COURSE I DO, WHAT, YOU THINK I'D EAT HELL'S IDEA OF FOOD IF I COULD AFFORD NOT TO?" Ruddy grins with all his teeth, waggling his fork with a piece of broccoli skewered onto the tip. "NO NO. EVERYTHING HERE IS EITHER FROM THE SURFACE, OR FROM A SPECIALTY SELLER WHO KNOWS HOW TO GROW IT JUST AS WELL. I AM A MAN OF CLASS AND STYLE, I EXPECT MY FOOD TO BE *EDIBLE*. COSTS A FORTUNE, BUT THESE DAYS, MONEY IS ONE OF THE THINGS I HAVE IN ABUNDANCE."

Astor

"And the quality shows! We'll have to trade lists of suppliers sometimes. I'll bet there's some overlap, cross-universally speaking; but we move in different circles, I imagine I've got some sources you don't and vice versa."

Ruddy & Offal

"OH, ALMOST CERTAINLY. I'LL GET YOU A LIST SORTED BY WHAT THEY SPECIALIZE IN. PHONE NUMBERS, ADDRESSES, YOU CAN SEE WHAT MATCHES AND WHAT DOESN'T." He didn't want to think about how long it had taken to track down some of his suppliers, he'd had to attend a NUMBER of what passed for high class functions these days before he'd managed to get a few of those names. But who knew, maybe Astor had a more reliable fellow for finding decent chicken. It was worth investigating, at least!

Astor

"And I'll do the same! As far as I can, anyway. Some of them don't have *addresses* so much as farmer's black markets where you can catch them if you're lucky."

Ruddy & Offal

"AH, I'M FAMILIAR WITH THE TYPE. MINE MOSTLY CAME FROM THE... *HIGH SOCIETY* CIRCLES. A BIT OF ACCESSIBILITY IS REQUIRED FOR REPEAT CUSTOMERS." He'll get the list after dinner, if he remembers. Though he doubted Astor would let him forget, the fascination Alastors had with food was one of their more respectable features, after all.

Astor

"Oh, I gave up on those high society functions in the sixties. They're so insufferable." Astor tuts, shaking his head. "For most ingredients I prefer to go the working class route! Sure, any prince with a taste for human cuisine can hook you up with fresh produce—but what are the odds he's personally maintaining a cellar full of dirt and mushrooms, or hopping over to China to harvest asparagus? No, he's paying some imp servant to do that for him! It's far easier to just befriend that imp!"

Ruddy & Offal

Ruddy shrugs, cutting his meat into little cubes so he can better arrange little bites of everything together. "I SUPPOSE, BUT THE PRINCE IS THE ONE WHO CAN SEND THE IMP TO THE SURFACE. BEFRIENDING THE IMP WON'T DO YOU ANY GOOD IF THE IMP IS KILLED OFF OR REPLACED, YOU WANT TO GET IN GOOD WITH THE ONE ACTUALLY HOLDING THE POWER."

Astor

"See, that's why you don't *stop* at befriending the imp. You bring gifts and favors for *all* his coworkers. You make yourself a staple at the farmer's market. If he disappears, they'll know you well enough to give you an honest answer when you ask who's replacing him—especially if they know you're a middleman who can get things they can't." He's trying not to watch Sir Pentious cut up his food and not quite succeeding. Makes him think of Penny and how he preferred his meat cut up just so. "One strategy that works if you have more money than time, another if you have more time than money. It all gets the job done!"

He glances at Offal. "Or you could cut out the middlemen and grow your own produce, can't you?" Hi he didn't forget you're here.

Ruddy & Offal

Offal jolts at the sudden acknowledgement, his fork scraping across his plate with a screech that makes him and Ruddy both wince. Can't play that one off, so he elects to ignore it entirely. "Why yes, my dear self! That's always worked well for me."

Ruddy has no green thumb to speak of, so he's not going to comment on that. He'll settle for watching the Alastors.

Astor

Make that three for three on the wincing. Astor also chooses to ignore it. "I *do* appreciate the offer to trade cuttings, by the by! You mentioned a couple of flowers, what else have you gotten to grow down here?"

Ruddy & Offal

Offal blinks at his alternate, brain stalling for several seconds as he tries to remember the name of any plant, ever. What had he grown? Think, Alastor, think. What had *mother* grown?

"Green beans, okra, potatoes, a few herbs.. I had sunflowers, too. Pumpkins and corn, occasionally. I had a few fruit trees..."

And NOW Ruddy decides to poke his nose in, snorting loudly. "HE'S BEEN GRAFTING TOGETHER A HORRIFYING CITRUS AMALGAM IN ONE OF THE STORAGE ROOMS. IF YOU WANT A LEMON, AN ORANGE, _AND_ A GRAPEFRUIT, HE'S GOT JUST THE NIGHTMARE SHRUB FOR YOU."

Astor

Astor is sorely tempted to play the sound of a car engine trying to start—but no, no doing that to an alternate.

He nods appreciatively at the list. Good mix of ingredients. He's about to ask about growing corn in a garden when Sir Pentious's addition scatters more mundane questions completely. "Oh, like the... hold on, I heard a story about this once—the Bizarria hiding somewhere in Italy, right? But from how I hear it, that one only had *two* citrus trees. But *three!* Now, there's a trick! To think I've been talking to the high king of horticulture, here!"

Ruddy & Offal

"Well, I haven't seen any chimera fruit yet, but the grafts are still fresh! I'm sure given a year or so, I'll have plenty of bizarre combinations to hand out to a lucky few unsuspecting victims! But high king? That's far too generous. I've heard tell of SEVEN citrus grafts." Offal waves a hand. "As long as they're in the same family, you can graft any number of trees together. Citrus is one of the more forgiving ones. Now, stonefruit? Finicky. The peach tree fought me for months when I put an apricot branch on there, and getting cuttings of trees fresh enough to graft is a NIGHTMARE in this place."

Astor

"Seven! Now, that must be a sight!" He shakes his head. "All right, maybe not high king—but you're at least a Dr. Frankenstein, stitching all those limbs together. I wouldn't have the foggiest how to do it myself—although if you're in need of an Igor, I *might* be able to help find fresher parts for your creation."

Ruddy & Offal

"It's not nearly as complicated as you might think.." Offal trails off, Ruddy's sudden sharp look making him snap his mouth closed. Right. Try that again.

"I mean. Thank you!" He imitates the Pentious Preen. This is what you wanted, you big snake, this is what you get. "The offer is appreciated, once I've got my garden under control I'll be happy to enlist your assistance in more Frankensteining. I'm sure we could find a favorite fruit of yours to graft on somewhere."

Astor

He doesn't catch the look, but he certainly makes note of the sudden shift it caused. Hmm.

"Favorite *fruit!* Huh..." Don't mind him as he momentarily zoned out, picking at his food as he tries to think of a favorite fruit. "Do tomatoes count? Hah! But no, they don't grow on trees. Lemons are useful, but you've already got those..."

Ruddy & Offal

"Spoiled for choices, my dear self? I understand! I barely knew where to start, the idea of having fresh produce in my own backyard was a SHOCKING possibility! Not having to beg barter or steal a lemon for my zest? Unthinkable!" A chortle, and Offal pulls out a very expensive looking sketchbook, complete with Sir Pentious' crest embossed into the leather cover, and starts scribbling away with the attached pen. "If you've got a hankering for tomatoes though, we COULD graft together a pomato plant! Potatoes down below, tomatoes up above!" Behold, his terrible doodle showing a hastily rendered visual of exactly that, right next to several other doodles of various eggbois doing their strange egg activities.

Astor

He's tilting his head to try to see that fancy notebook cover for a moment before he finally tilts the other way to see the actual drawing. "Is that a *thing?* The tomatoes don't come out tasting like potatoes?" He glances at the egg doodles. Huh. An alternate who does art.

Ruddy & Offal

Ruddy makes an annoyed huff when he sees the notebook, but just gives Offal a *look*, which is returned with an innocent smile before Offal turns back to his alternate to answer. "It's a thing! A far more recent thing than grafting trees, granted, but a thing!" Tomatoes tasting like potatoes? He hums, considering the possible applications. That may not be so bad, he had hated the texture of potatoes when he was young, even when his mother had made them. Maybe he'd have liked it.. But it had been a *question*. "They taste normal, I assure you! You're grafting different plants together, not mixing their genetics!"

Astor

"Huh! You'd think they'd be fighting over..." Vague hand wave. "... nutrients." He's only got an approximate understanding of nutrients as applied to agriculture. Vegetables are full of Nutrients, and plants wither if prior crops have taken too many Nutrients out of the soil, so either a tomato-potato would take twice as many Nutrients or else each half would contain half as many Nutrients as it should. Right? This is far more complicated gardening than he's ever had to worry about. "Impressive, all the same!"

Ruddy & Offal

"Fighting? Not at all, they're cooperating. They're one plant after a certain point. The tomato part is doing all the leafy business of energy gathering, and that provides for the potato part that is doing the other half of the equation." Offal is a bit baffled at Astor's rather interesting take on plant civil war, but he moves along. "It IS impressive! I'd have never considered it on my own, but modern science has come a long way!"

Astor

One plant making twice as many veggies; or maybe they produced half as much of each? Something for him to look for when he actually saw the thing, he supposed. "It certainly has! My goodness, the marvels they're coming up with these days! Did you know back in the mortal realm, they've put *robots* on *Mars?* Honest-to-God robots!" Listen, he's only known this a few months, he's still amazed,

Ruddy & Offal

Offal blinks, processing the information. Humanity did what??? "They put *robots* on *Mars?* I can hardly imagine what good that does for them! How and why would you put a robot on Mars? Do they come *back?*" Give him a moment while he tries to imagine a reason humans would send multiple robots all the way to Mars. "What, did we discover alien life and decide to do a hostile takeover?"

Astor

"Win the *War of the Worlds* before it starts? Ha! No, no, it's for scientific study! Scientists broadcast signals from Earth telling them where to drive around—like the controls of those fighting robots Sir Pentious let us play with—and in return the robots take photos of the surface of Mars and broadcast them back! And I think they study some other things too, chemicals and such. Maybe nutrients." He's only thinking of nutrients because he's still thinking about vegetables and soil quality. "I don't think they're designed to come back—the scientists just make them hardy so they can last a while out there without a mechanic to come tune them up, then send a more advanced replacement once they've come up with some more equipment to strap on. I expect they'll pick them up and stick them in a museum once astronauts make it up there in a decade or so." Alastor is very optimistic about this hypothetical Mars mission's timeline.

Ruddy & Offal

That was a lot of information to take in, though Ruddy seems to be completely unsurprised by it. Mentioning him by name only gets a vague hum of acknowledgement and quick glance to confirm Astor isn't talking to him. Of course the old snake's kept up with the accomplishments of topside. Offal on the other hand, seems entirely flabbergasted. "Scientific study! Who'd have thought. Next thing you know we'll have... Cities on the moon, or some nonsense like that! Tell me, what do they look like? They must be rugged little wonders to survive a trip to another planet entirely!"

Astor

For a split second after he finished talking, Alastor was worried that he'd come across as unbelievable again. But no, apparently either Mars rovers were more believable than a godlike alternate or else their heart-to-heart had raised Astor's credibility in his alternate's eyes.

"Oh... let me think, it's been a while since I saw the pictures." He looked up as sketchy red shapes floated over his plate, chunky vehicle parts he was trying to shift together into a shape that reminded him of the robots. "They did look tough, though! I remember thinking they looked like something halfway between a beach buggy and a real bug—they must have had bits and bobs sticking out like legs and antennae, I suppose, although I can't quite reconstruct it." He glanced at Ruddy. "Say, could I trouble you to pull up a picture for us?"

Ruddy & Offal

Both, Astor. It was both. But mostly the former, humanity had already been meandering in that direction the last time Offal had been caught up on current events, no surprise they'd raced ahead by now. Little robots on Mars, using radio signals.. how strange.

Ruddy takes a moment to register that he is now being spoken to, but obligingly wipes his mouth and sets about finding a picture before handing over his phone, comically oversized in the hands of the smaller sinners. "HERE YOU ARE, THEN. THE MARS ROVERS. CHARMING CONTRAPTIONS, REALLY. WERE SOLAR POWER AN OPTION DOWN HERE, IT WOULD CERTAINLY SAVE _ME_ SOME MONEY."

Astor

Astor lets his alternate take the phone, but leans over to look at the picture as well. "There they are, *that's* why I thought they looked like bugs! The panels make me think of insect wings."

He glances back at Sir Pentious, surprised. "Do solar panels *not* work here? Not even off of Heaven's light?"

Ruddy & Offal

"THEY DO NOT. AS IF HEAVEN WOULD EVER DO SOMETHING *USEFUL* FOR US SINNERS." Despite not having an immediately apparent nose, Ruddy manages to make a haughty sniff of disgust, dismissing Heaven's failure with a wave of a hand. "NOW, PERHAPS THE PANELS I USED WEREN'T SENSITIVE ENOUGH, THE TECHNOLOGY HAS IMPROVED SINCE MY LAST ATTEMPT. BUT I AM INCLINED TO THINK NOT. BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER, MY ATTEMPTS TO HARNESS GEOTHERMAL ENERGY HAVE BEEN *MUCH* MORE SUCCESSFUL, IF LESS IMMEDIATELY USEFUL..." Oh, but he's taking the conversation into a tangent. He cuts himself off, adjusting his glasses before returning to his mostly empty plate.

Offal has been staring at the various mars rover pictures, completely fascinated by the strange little science cars. They looked AWFULLY silly, but he had to admit they were.. cute?

Astor

What is a conversation but a series of tangents tied together at the ends? And Astor's alternate seems momentarily preoccupied, they can pursue this one a bit further.

"I've seen folks show how a solar panel under the moon can light up a tiny bulb—but then, I suppose a panel that can charge a bulb can't charge a room! Here I thought adopting solar panels was going so slowly just because Hell's so terribly disorganized!" He laughed. "Now, why isn't geothermal energy useful? From the sound of it I'd think it'd be easy to use, considering how hot Hell is!" A pause. "Oh. Because you're in the air, I suppose?"

Ruddy & Offal

Ruddy snaps his fingers, nodding at his guest with a pleased grin. "GOT IT IN ONE, ALASTOR. THAT IS PRECISELY THE ISSUE. IF IT WERE A MATTER OF STRAPPING PANELS TO THE TOPS OF MY AIRSHIPS, THEY COULD STAY AFLOAT PERPETUALLY. BUT WITH GEOTHERMAL, I HAVE TO DOCK EACH SHIP AT A PLANT TO CHANGE OUT AND CHARGE THE BATTERIES. STILL A DAMN SIGHT EASIER THAN SOME OF THE ALTERNATIVE ENERGY SOURCES, THOUGH. HAVING TO DEDICATE SPACE TO STORE COAL TO BURN? ABYSMAL." And here he preens, twirling his glasses chain around a finger. "MY SHIPS ARE MUCH FASTER AND LIGHTER NOW, BUT I ALWAYS SEEK TO IMPROVE THEM FURTHER."

A pause, and he gives Alastor a considering look. "THAT REMINDS ME, ACTUALLY. I HAVE DESIGNS IN THE WORKS FOR A MAGIC ENGINE, PARTIALLY BASED OFF OF THE MATERIALS YOU'VE PROVIDED ME WITH. IT IS STILL IN THE EARLY STAGES, BUT REST ASSURED YOUR RESOURCES ARE BEING PUT TO WORK."

Astor

Oh! He *has* been useful! And is being recognized as useful! He puffs up. "Is that so! Well, you're quite welcome!" (Even though Sir Pentious didn't say "thank you.") "You know, it seems like every version of you I run into these days is looking into using magic as a power source! Don't take that the wrong way now, that's no accusation of uncreativity—I'm just marveling at—well, when one looks at alternates across parallel universes, one's first instinct is to look at what events in their pasts make them parallel to each other, isn't it? Hometowns, hobbies, death days, the like. The moment they meet, one assumes, is the moment they branch off in divergent directions. But no! They continue going on, being nearly the same people, making nearly the same decisions, and—well, here I am rambling! It fascinates me, that's all."

He rested his chin on a hand thoughtfully. "But, here's a thought, back on the topic of geothermal energy and magical engines—you've got those portal makers of yours now. What if you opened up some sort of permanent portals between your geothermal plants and your engines? I know an alternate who's made doorways permanently bridge two points, I've been meaning to look into doing it myself—I bet that could solve your power problem."

Ruddy & Offal

Ruddy shrugs and nods where appropriate as Astor prattles on about the similarities between alternates. He's mostly met alternates of Alastor, and they were difficult to tell apart without their little emojis next to whatever nonsense they'd decided to ramble at him. Besides, of course his own alternates would turn to magic! Penny lived on a planet riddled with the stuff, and Telly... Well, he wasn't keeping up with Telly's activities whatsoever, but if he was entangled with this Alastor that was probably reason enough. Why waste such an ample power supply?

"I'D CONSIDERED IT. HOWEVER, THAT DOES LEAVE THE MATTER OF..." His tongue flicks out as he hesitates, thinking of an appropriate comparison. Thoughtful blelele. "LEAVING THE FRONT DOOR WIDE OPEN, I SUPPOSE. THERE ARE MANY MAGIC USERS IN HELL, I AM NOT CONFIDENT IN MY CURRENT ABILITY TO ENSURE THEY CAN'T EXPLOIT A PORTAL DIRECTLY TO THE POWER SUPPLIES OF MY FLEET."

Astor

"Well! I think the chances are low, personally. If permanent doors can be constructed the way I think they can, it wouldn't reduce your security any more than installing a door between two adjoining rooms would—which is to say, the door's only useful to an intruder if he's already in the right room to go through it. But still, it's a fair concern. It's something I'd planned to make absolutely sure of myself in my own research into such doorways. I could let you know if I find anything interesting either way?"

Ruddy & Offal

"I WOULD APPRECIATE THAT, YES. OBVIOUSLY THE POWER PLANTS ARE HEAVILY GUARDED INSIDE AND OUT, BUT I DIDN'T DRAG MYSELF TO THESE HEIGHTS BY ASSUMING THINGS WOULD GO WELL FOR ME." Ruddy sighs. "IT'S HELL. THE PLACE IS TAILORED TO DRAG YOU DOWN BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY GIVEN HALF A CHANCE. YOU KEEP ME POSTED, AND I WILL SEE ABOUT SEEING WHAT I CAN DIG UP THAT YOU MAY BENEFIT FROM IN TURN."

Astor

A wry, dry laugh. "Don't I know *that.*" But a polite dinner that he'd really only gotten himself invited to by accident wasn't the place to get into his grand theory of How Some Days He Thought Even Being Careful Wasn't Enough Because Hell Probably Only Let You Achieve Good Things As A Setup To Cause Even Worse Things, so he'd leave it at that. "And I'd appreciate anything you find too, of course."

Ruddy & Offal

"WE'LL SEE WHAT I COME UP WITH." A wiggle in his peripheral vision catches Ruddy's attention, and he turns from Astor to accept his phone back from Offal, who finally seems to be done staring at pictures of robots on Mars in favor of hastily shoveling more food into his face before it gets cold. Ruddy glances at his empty plate, and then looks between the two radio demons. "NOW, ALASTOR. I ASSUME YOU DON'T HAVE MUCH OF A SWEET TOOTH, SO I DOUBT YOU'RE INTERESTED IN DESSERT?"

Astor

He flashed his grin toward his alternate as he passed the phone back. "They're sure something, aren't they?" And then turned his attention back to their host. "It depends on what it is, but probably not, no. What is it?"

Ruddy & Offal

Offal grins at his alternate, nodding enthusiastically. "They are! I can't believe I hadn't heard about them sooner, how exciting!" And back to Ruddy, who's pushing his chair back to take his plate to the kitchen. "COFFEE CAKE WITH A RUM GLAZE. *PROPER* COFFEE CAKE, WITH COFFEE IN IT, NONE OF THAT GARBAGE THAT JUST HAS SOME COFFEE POWDER DUSTED OVER TOP OF IT." The very THOUGHT makes him sneer. The nerve of some people.

Astor

He considers it. Coffee flavored. Probably won't be completely overloaded with sugar. "Oh... it would be rude not to if everyone else is eating. I'll try a thin slice!" He hops up to take his plate to the kitchen as well. Good guests move their dirty dishes.

Ruddy & Offal

"A THIN SLICE, THEN." Finally, someone with *manners*. Offal is entirely content to let Ruddy pluck the plate out from in front of him and doodle in his sketchpad while he waits to be served.

Into the sink with the dirty plates, where Long Eggboi can wash them from atop his little egg stool, and Ruddy pulls the cake from the fridge to cut slices. How thin is thin.. An inch? An inch. Alastor is getting an inch thick slice of cake, here's a plate. Shoo back to the table.

Astor

An inch is perfect. That's exactly how much he wants.

But he feels odd toddling right back to the table with only his own dessert, so he asks, "Anything you want me to carry back with me?"

Ruddy & Offal

Ruddy hadn't expected Astor to actually want to be helpful. After a moment of confused staring, Ruddy offers up another plate with a similarly thin slice of cake. "I SUPPOSE YOU COULD TAKE THIS TO YOUR OTHER SELF WHILE I GET MY OWN SLICE AND PUT THIS AWAY?"

Astor

"Happy to!" It's a Task, he'll take it. He accepts the second plate and heads back to give it to his alternate his dessert.

"And one for you!" Plop. "You're using that book there as a sketchbook, aren't you? Are you much of an artist?" That's right: it's time for more small talk. But Astor's genuinely interested; all Radio Demons sing and dance, but not many draw.

Ruddy & Offal

Astor's approach gets an ear twitch from Offal, the younger alternate looking up in time to Accept Cake. Ah, cake. Always better when someone else makes it.

"You flatter me, my dear self!" He trades his pen for a fork, waving it dismissively before cutting himself a tiny bite of cake. "No no, I'm just a doodler I'm afraid. No real skill to speak of, it just helps me keep track up here." His other hand taps the side of his head. "If you want an actual artist, get Sir Pentious to show you his charcoal sketches sometime! Seems the arts were mandatory for the upper crust back in, what, the 1830s?"

Ruddy & Offal

[[ We NEED to find the worst possible design from the pilot for philip. maybe that weird naked dude with the face on his chest

Astor

"You've seen my sorry excuse for artistic record keeping! Now, *that's* what I'd call doodling." He scoffs. "Is he that old? I wouldn't have guessed. Mine never gave me a year, but I would have put him around 1840 at the earliest."

Ruddy & Offal

"He might be! Or not? Well, let me see..." Offal pops his nibble of cake into his mouth, humming thoughtfully as he watches Ruddy slither back to the table and sit down. "Sir Pentious! When were you born, you fossil? The spring chickens in the audience want to know!"

Ruddy looks unamused, but answers over the rim of his... glass of milk. Seems he wanted a drink with his cake. "I WAS BORN ON THE SECOND DAY OF JUNE, IN 1826, AND DIED AT SIXTY TWO YEARS OF AGE ON AUGUST 8TH, 1888. NOT THAT IT'S ANY OF YOUR *BUSINESS*, ALASTOR..S."

Astor

Astor starts when his alternate abruptly asks Sir Pentious. Oh, he's going to think they're rude—

Aaand he thinks they're rude. "I wasn't going to ask," he mutters, turning his full attention on his cake.

Ruddy & Offal

Ruddy looks from Offal, who is completely delighted, to Astor, who looks considerably LESS delighted. Ah, of course. He saw plenty of this in his lifetime. Usually from his kids, but still. "I KNOW YOU WEREN'T, ALASTOR. I CAN'T BLAME YOU FOR THIS MAN'S LACK OF MANNERS." There, a single crumb of patience as a reward for being helpful. If he were anyone else, Ruddy may even reach over and pat his shoulder. But alas, Astor will have to settle for a quick little flutter of a hand in his direction. A strange little air pat, and an almost apologetic look from Hattie.

Astor

Well, he hates throwing his alternate under the bus, but slightly less than he'd hate undeservedly going under the bus *with* him. An almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment is all he offers in return before digging into the cake.

Ruddy & Offal

Ah, good, they had an understanding. Ruddy turns his face to Offal with a hiss, and Offal responds with a shit eating grin before he cheerily goes back to nibbling his cake. No remorse from this deer, then. Ruddy will remember this. For now though, the three can eat their cake in silence as the eggbois start to gather to lift food away from the table and carry it back to the kitchens. A very organized little army, not even a WoooOooOOooO between them.

Astor

It's been silent for more than three seconds and that's far more than Astor can tolerate. He would have preferred the WoOooOOoos.

"Anyway! We were talking about art!" He nods toward his alternate, "Or *doodles*, as you say."

Ruddy & Offal

Offal looks up from his cake, staring blankly at Astor for a moment before his brain catches up. "Oh! Yes! What about them, my dear self? Curious? I'm afraid I don't have a wealth of examples on hand for you to page through. Come back in a month and perhaps I'll have sweet talked Pentious into letting me use his supplies!" Not likely, judging by the snort that Ruddy made.

Astor

That wasn't a promising sound. "Or you *could* get your own." That was one of the perks of being the Radio Demon, after all: people give you free stuff.

Ruddy & Offal

Offal laughs, a strained bark of noise. "I suppose I *could*, were I so inclined." He quickly shakes his head, as sudden and stiff as his laugh. "I'd have to find something decent to wear, my my! The public hasn't laid eyes on me in far too long to show up looking so rough!"

Astor

He glanced at his alternate, then glanced at himself, then reached down to lift up the tail of his coat and pointedly examine the atrociously tattered hem. "You know, as long as you're still recognizable from your warning poster, I don't think they'll care about the rest."

Ruddy & Offal

Ruddy covers his mouth and turns away as Astor pointedly examines himself, trying to disguise his wheezing laugh as a cough as Offal gets mildly called out by his own alternate. "That's the thing! People see me and run screaming, my dear self! I can't really avoid that just by changing into something less.. *me*, but I could at least look less like I dragged myself straight off the posters to terrorize Hell for a *third* time."

Astor

"Well, that's how you get the art supplies, isn't it? They scream and run, you browse the store at your leisure, you leave with what you need!" This is just how Astor conducts his shopping trips.

Ruddy & Offal

Offal's smile tightens for a moment before he nods and cheerily waves a hand, voice rising an octave as he cheerily exclaims. "... Yes. Of course! That *is* how I get most things, isn't it! I suppose there's no need to worry about my appearance if it doesn't matter, hm? Silly of me to forget that!" He is the radio demon, after all. He can hardly just walk away from *that* reality!

Astor

Astor studies his alternate's face for a moment; then looks back at his own plate. "A new suit won't undo what's been done," he says, more subdued. "Nor would depriving yourself of something you want by using the lack of new clothes as an excuse not to go." He'd have to apologize for giving his alternate a far more pointed call out in front of Sir Pentious, but Astor doubted it was anything Sir Pentious hadn't figured out himself.

Ruddy & Offal

Both of the locals at the table have gone very still, for entirely different reasons. Ruddy is the first to break the tension, loudly dropping his fork on his empty plate before standing up to hastily exit the room under the pretense of cleaning up after himself. Excuse him, pardon him, he must go make a strong cup of tea for himself.

Which gives Offal a moment to breathe in, hold it, and sigh forcefully. He has to control himself better, he's slipping too much too quickly, if this self can read him so blatantly this soon it spells terrible things for the future when he inevitably gets seen by anyone else half as perceptive. Chin up. "I am aware, my dear self! Apologies if I've made it sound like I resent you for pointing out the obvious, it simply stings to hear something you're avoiding. But you're right, as I always am!" Another laugh. "I suppose I'll have to face the music, eh? I set the band going, I can hardly walk away from it!"

Astor

"A little *too* honest?" he mutters. Nice work ruining dinner. Well, he hadn't expected to get invited back to a second one anyway.

He gives his alternate a wan smile. "Afraid so. But, think of it this way: if they don't have the courage to face their own damn customer, then they're getting what's coming to them if their customer walks out without paying, *aren't* they." There's a faint hint of a sneer on his face as he says so.

"Sorry for..." sigh, "scaring off our host." He stabs at what's left of his cake.

Ruddy & Offal

Scaring off..? Oh right! Of course, Sir Pentious left the room rather hastily, of course it would look terrible. He laughs, more genuinely this time. "Don't you worry about that, my dear self! It takes more than an awkward conversation to scare that uppity old rope off. I assure you, he'd said far blunter things to me at much greater volumes! He likely just thinks I'd take it better one on one rather than if he joined you for a surprise intervention. Not a lick of social graces to delicately excuse himself though!"

He cocks his head, thinking. "He's right, too! It's quite a bit easier to take this from myself in private, like a pep talk in a bathroom mirror without an audience on the side."

Astor

"Yes, well, I shouldn't have brought up something he'd feel the need to excuse himself for, delicately or otherwise." He tuts. "Anyway, that's all I had to say on the matter. He hardly needed to leave."

Ruddy & Offal

Offal holds a finger up, voice far too chipper. "Ah, but he knows how I usually respond to getting confronted, you see!" He doesn't elaborate on *what* exactly he usually does, instead fussing with his hair clips before they can lose their grip. "I'm sure he'll return with tea and his sour attitude before long once he notices the lack of reaction. Though of course, he may also be packing you some leftovers to take home. What did you think of the cake, by the way?"

Astor

He's going to politely stare at his alternate in quiet invitation to elaborate on how, exactly, he usually responds. No? Okay then.

A shrug. "It tastes like cake." The review's utter neutrality is scathing.

Ruddy & Offal

Offal raises an eyebrow, but decides to drop the conversation in favor of turning to watch Ruddy slither back into the room. As expected, a serving of leftovers had been packed away for Astor, and was placed on the table in front of him after a quick glance around. Not even a tear in the tablecloth, how refreshing. A sigh that might be quiet if he hadn't been a massive serpent escapes him, and he nods politely at Astor. "I HATE TO INTERRUPT A CONVERSATION, ALASTOR, BUT I'M AFRAID I NEED TO BORROW YOUR OTHER TO DEAL WITH A RAID ON ONE OF MY FACTORIES BEFORE THE IDIOTS MANAGE TO BREAK ANYTHING *TOO* EXPENSIVE." And to Offal he hands a paper with an address, huffing irritably.

Ah, of course. Offal pushes up from the table, plucking the clips from his hair to toss back to his dear self. "Ah! A sinner's work is never over, I see! I'll be seeing you, then. Ta!" A hasty exit on his part, but it's not like Astor was expecting social grace from this shaggy man, right? No of course not.

Astor

"It's fine, as luck would have it we'd exhausted the topic anyway." Astor wondered whether Sir Pentious would manufacture a crisis of that scale as an excuse to tell Alastor to leave. He didn't think so—especially after being quite insistently informed that Sir Pentious didn't have that kind of tact—but considering that he'd also just received a hint that his other tended to get violent when confronted (what kind of violent, Astor wondered), he wasn't going to rule out the possibility of lying for self-preservation. It certainly was convenient timing.

Pity, though; Astor had hoped to have one final private word with his alternate before he left. He supposed it could wait til next time.

He gestured at the hair clips on the table. "Tell him he can keep those. I have more and he can make better use of them right now." He picked up his leftovers with a word of thanks. "I suppose you'll need to go supervise the counterattack?"

Ruddy & Offal

Ruddy wouldn't admit to it even if he had, but he gives Astor a considering look as this strange alternate of his resident squatter speaks. "I DON'T, NO, BUT I WONT KEEP YOU HERE IF YOU'D LIKE TO HEAD HOME." A gesture from Ruddy, and a decorated eggboi slides the clips off the table and into a small bowl, scampering off down the hall to deliver them presumably to whatever room Offal has claimed as his own.

"ALASTOR, A QUESTION BEFORE YOU LEAVE." Ruddy shifts back, his tail sliding over itself as he tries not to accidentally crowd his guest. "WHAT DO YOU.. *MAKE* OF HIM. IF YOU GET MY MEANING? I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO."

Astor

A surprised blink, and Astor says hesitantly, "No, I'm not in a particular rush..." As long as they aren't trying to out-polite each other into Astor overstaying his welcome.

He gives Sir Pentious a thoughtful look. "There's a dozen different ways I could answer that, so I think you'd better narrow it down for me a little more?"

Ruddy & Offal

Ruddy's face scrunches. An internal debate, a sigh, and he flops back into his seat, elbows planted on the table as he rests his chin in his hands. Well, damn it all, he certainly wasn't going to get anywhere trying to play games with radio demons, now was he? If he could get along with Alexa by speaking frankly... "YOUR ALTERNATE, ALASTOR. I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO WITH HIM. HE ACTS LIKE WE'RE BOSOM COMPANIONS HALF THE TIME, AND THE OTHER HALF HE SEEMS TO WANT NOTHING MORE THAN TO SEND ME INTO A RAGE."

He shrugs, rubbing his forehead. "FORGIVE ME FOR BEING INAPPROPRIATELY BLUNT, ALASTOR. BUT HE IS *MAD*. OFF THE ROCKER. ATTEMPTS TO SPEAK TO HIM GO IN CIRCLES, AND DESPITE MY GENIUS, I AM NOT THE SORT OF DOCTOR WHO CAN FIX AN AILING MIND. I WOULD LIKE TO SEE HIM GET *HELP*, AND THEN GET *OFF MY SHIP* TO REJOIN SOCIETY IN SOME CAPACITY."

Astor

He slowly takes his seat again. This doesn't seem like it's going to be a short conversation.

"You know—I've heard quite a lot from you and my other alternate about how supposedly mad this alternate is—but I've seen no evidence of it so far. Maybe that says more about my mind than his, hah. But what I've seen is a sinner who suffered a single brain storm, and who's now terrified of his own potential to break again. Maybe *that's* what you're calling madness; but if there's more to it than that, I need to hear about it." He props his chin on his hand and leans toward Sir Pentious. "Have you asked him why he acts like a friend one minute and a pest the next? I'm not suggesting you do, I'm just wondering what his answer was if you have."

Ruddy & Offal

He really shouldn't be surprised that Astor didn't respond with a glib comment or an insult, but he is. Perhaps his expectations have been a bit unfairly skewed by his local radio demon. Astor isn't Offal, they wont respond the same way to everything. Possibly even most things. Another great, heaving sigh, and Ruddy gives Astor a very tired look. "I HAVE ATTEMPTED TO ASK THAT QUESTION ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS, YES. IF HE WISHED TO BE FRIENDS, WHY DID HE TURN AROUND AND BARB ME WITH WORDS? IF HE WISHED TO BE HATED, WHY DID HE CLING TO ME SO DESPERATELY? I HAVE TRIED ASKING DIRECTLY, AND I HAVE TRIED COUCHING IT IN THE NONSENSE RIDDLING FRILLS DEALMAKERS SEEM TO LOVE. AND NO MATTER HOW I APPROACH IT, HE DOES ONE OF TWO THINGS."

His head reads heavily in one palm, the other curling into a fist to raise two fingers for emphasis. "ONE, HE WILL INSULT ME VIGOROUSLY AND PERSONALLY. IT DOES NOT MATTER HOW I APPROACHED IT, HE WILL INSULT MYSELF, MY CHILDREN, MY PAST FAILURES, ANYTHING HE POSSIBLY CAN, UNTIL I HAVE TO LEAVE BEFORE I LOSE MY TEMPER. OR TWO, HE WILL DANCE AROUND THE QUESTION MORE SKILLFULLY THAN I HAVE THE PATIENCE FOR. HALF TRUTHS, MISLEADING STATEMENTS, I KNOW WHAT HE'D DOING BUT I SIMPLY DO NOT HAVE THE PATIENCE FOR IT." He hesitates, then raises a third finger. "OR. AND THIS HAS ONLY HAPPENED *ONCE*. HE WILL RESORT TO THREATS. VIOLENCE, IF I PRESS FOR TOO LONG. I MAY NOT FEAR HIM THE WAY OTHERS DO, BUT I AM NO FOOL. I'VE EXPERIENCED WHAT YOUR LOT IS CAPABLE OF ONCE, AND THAT WAS MORE THAN ENOUGH FOR ME."

Astor

Astor nods slowly, thoughtfully, turning that over in his head, asking himself when would he react like that, what would it mean out of him.

"Tell me more about this 'madness' of his."

Ruddy & Offal

Ruddy shifts in place, face twisting for a moment. "I SUPPOSE YOU SHOULD KNOW. AFTER HIS THREATS AGAINST ME, THE ONE TIME HE CROSSED THAT LINE, HE WAS INCONSOLABLE. I NEVER SAW HIM IN WHATEVER STATE HE WAS IN, BUT I COULD HEAR HIS WAILING THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT. LIKE A DAMN BANSHEE HAUNTING MY AIRSHIP. IT TOOK A WEEK FOR HIM TO SHOW HIMSELF IN MY PRESENCE AGAIN, THOUGH HE KEPT LEAVING THE HEADS OF SINNERS AROUND IN WHAT I ASSUME WAS APOLOGY." Oh that felt awful to say out loud. Spilling other people's business *sucked*. "HE LEFT AN ANGELIC WEAPON ON MY NIGHTSTAND, AFTER THAT. MILDLY TERRIFYING, BUT CONSIDERING HE DIDN'T KILL ME IN MY SLEEP..."

Another shrug. "IN THE DAY TO DAY, HE GENERALLY HOVERS AROUND ME AS I WORK. *GENERALLY*, IF I ACT FRIENDLY AND ATTEMPT TO ENGAGE WITH HIM, HE EVENTUALLY LASHES OUT. IF I LASH OUT IN RETURN, HE TRIES TO BACKTRACK AND ACT LIKE A BOSOM COMPANION. OCCASIONALLY HE'LL VANISH FOR A FEW HOURS AND RETURN EITHER DESPONDENT OR GIDDY. USUALLY WITH SOME PRIZE CLUTCHED IN HIS HANDS, OR COVERED IN SOME SORT OF SUBSTANCE. NOT BLOOD. PAINT OR DIRT OR DUST, USUALLY. ONE TIME HE CAME BACK WITH SOME RATTY TORN UP SATIN THROW PILLOW AND ASKED ME TO REPAIR IT."

Astor

Astor clicks his tongue thoughtfully. How long had he spent alone wailing after he'd betrayed his Sir Pentious? "Well, he doesn't sound mad to *me.*" He's mainly referring to the strange cycle of hostility and penance, and the mysterious day trips; but it probably says something about Astor that he doesn't even bat an eye at the decapitations. "He just likes you and hates himself—hates or fears—that's all there is to it! Did you work out that the angel weapon was his apology?" Probably not, since Sir Pentious only mentioned the heads. "He's given you self-defense. So you can exterminate him if he threatens you again." Because that's what Astor would have done.

Ruddy & Offal

Radio demons will do as they please, it seems. Is an Alastor really apologetic if he isn't leaving severed heads around for you? No better token of remorse than a slain enemy. "HE'S ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL SINNERS IN HELL. GIVING ME A WEAPON CAPABLE OF EXTERMINATING HIM WONT DO ME MUCH GOOD IF HE CAN CRUSH ME FROM HALFWAY ACROSS THE RING. BUT IT'S SOMETHING, AT LEAST." Ruddy taps his claws on the table, frowning deeply. "AS FASCINATING AS THIS IS, AND IT *IS* INTERESTING TO HEAR AN INSIDER-BUT-ALSO-OUTSIDER PERSPECTIVE, IT DOESN'T TELL ME WHAT I CAN DO TO GET HIM BETTER AND OFF MY AIRSHIP."

Astor

"Do you want him better or do you want him off your ship? Because those are two separate matters! If all you *really* want is to get him off your ship, and getting him better just seems to you like the easiest way to make that happen... well, that opens up quite a lot of much faster options. But it depends on your priorities."

Ruddy & Offal

He looks outright offended at Astor's suggestion, his entire torso rearing back as a hand rests daintily on his chest. Gasp! The NERVE.... "I WISH TO SEE HIM *IMPROVE* HIMSELF, FIRST AND FOREMOST. I MAY NOT WANT HIM AS A ROOMMATE LONG TERM, BUT I HAVE STANDARDS, ALASTOR. IF *I'M* THE BEST SUPPORT HE HAS, HE MUST BE *TRULY* DESPERATE, AND I AM ABOVE KICKING A MAN WHEN HE'S DOWN."

Astor

Color him surprised. He tries not to let it show too much on his face. "Then I'm afraid I can't offer you a solution in one visit; but I could keep coming back. My alternates have a tendency to open up more easily to each other. If he's determined to keep *you* at arm's length, that's that, but I bet I could get through to him instead." He's not going to mention that his alternate already all but cracked like a walnut under a jackhammer. That's private. "You claimed what's left of the Cannibal Colony, didn't you? What have you done with it?"

Ruddy & Offal

Of course he couldn't get a nice easy solution, nothing in life was so quickly wrapped up in a bow. Not even another magician could fix the one living in his home. Pah. The question, however, is unexpected enough that his displeasure is forgotten for the moment. "THE COLONY? NOTHING, REALLY. I HAVE SOME EGGS WORKING ON CLEARING THE RUBBLE, BUT MY ATTENTION HAS BEEN MOSTLY TAKEN BY MAINTAINING MY BORDERS AT THE MOMENT. IDEALLY I'D LIKE TO SEE IT REBUILT IN SOME CAPACITY, I FOUND IT A CHARMING LITTLE DISTRICT..." He turns his head almost entirely sideways, giving Astor a whole other kind of side eye as he smirks. "EVEN IF THE RESIDENTS *WERE* PRONE TO BITING."

Astor

"Bite back, it's how they say hello." It *was* how they said hello, he reminds himself. "You might want to hold off on rebuilding it for now—and keep an eye on it. I'd bet you anything that's where my alternate is going when he leaves the ship: to scavenge in the ruins. Did that pillow he brought back look like it coulda come from the colony?"

Ruddy & Offal

Did cannibal colony pillows come with some special signifier woven into them? Were the tassels special? He may be overthinking it. Astor probably just meant to ask if it looked old enough to be from the era. "I.. SUPPOSE? IT'S A VERY FEMININE PILLOW, I'D EXPECT SOME YOUNG HYSTERICAL HEIRESS TO HAVE IT ON HER BED TO SCREAM INTO IN A FIT OF RAGE. VERY LUXURIOUS."

Astor

You never know. Maybe it has "BLESS THIS CANNIBALISTIC MESS (1910)" embroidered on it. Maybe it can be immediately ruled out because it has a Pikachu on it. Worth asking.

"It could be." Sounds like something Mimzy could have owned, although Astor wouldn't put it outside the realm of what would fit in Rosie's quarters. "Anyway, I'd leave the colony be for now in case that's where he's been going. If it *is*, then discovering it's been leveled before he's found whatever panacea he's digging for probably won't help his mental state." The corner of his mouth quirks wryly. "Especially if he's not ready to admit he's looking for anything at all."

Ruddy & Offal

He squints, then turns to wave an eggboi over with a cup of tea. Add a little scotch, and he's got something worth drinking for this talk. "I SUPPOSE IT'S NO LOSS TO LEAVE THE WRECKAGE BE, IF YOU THINK IT'S FOR THE BEST. WHAT THE DEVIL *WOULD* HE BE LOOKING FOR THOUGH?"

Astor

"Something to remember his friends by? Maybe something that smells like them, or something he once gifted them, or something he always associated with them whenever he visited." He's totally just listing the things he rummaged for in his Sir Pentious's abandoned safe houses. Projecting is useful when it's an alternate. "Or something he knows they'd hate to see buried and abandoned. Or, hell, maybe he's rebuilding a room or two by himself—you said sometimes he's got paint on him. He's recently lost almost everything; why wouldn't he want to salvage whatever's left over?"

Ruddy & Offal

Ruddy decides to keep his suspicions to himself, even as Astor goes down a list that sounds less like pure guesswork than seems completely plausible. You know what that sounded like? None of his business. The losses of a man a few universes over weren't his to pry into. So he nods, and hums, and drinks his tea. "I SUPPOSE THAT'S TRUE. I CAN'T SAY I ACTED ENTIRELY REASONABLY WHEN I FIRST LANDED DOWN HERE AND REALIZED I'D NEVER SEE MY FAMILY AGAIN." Huff. "I DON'T THINK IT'S AN ENTIRELY COMPARABLE LOSS, BUT THEY'RE SIMILAR ENOUGH. SO YOUR SAGE ADVICE IS TO LEAVE HIM ALONE AND LET YOU HANDLE HIM, IS IT?"

Astor

"It's comparable enough! It's enough to understand that he's grieving. Now keep in mind that the only people he could have shared that grief with are the ones he's grieving for, and he's spent the last eighty-odd years pretending his only two emotions are 'bored' and 'entertained,' and it makes sense he'd act a little unreasonable, wouldn't it! Poor man's trying to squeeze everything he feels through the eye of a needle."

Astor shakes his head. "No, don't leave him alone, just the colony—at least until you figure out if that really is where he's going. If you leave *him* alone, I think he'll self-destruct from social deprivation, and the only question is whether he'll implode or explode." But what can Astor offer that Sir Pentious *can* do? "In the meantime... I wish I could offer concrete suggestions, but without knowing more about how he is when he isn't trying to make a good first impression, I'm afraid I have nothing but 'don't push him too fast.' If you have any specific scenarios you want to know how to handle, I can offer my best educated suggestions?"

Ruddy & Offal

"HRM." Yes, very helpful Ruddy. Try that again, with more words this time. "FINE. I WILL DO WHAT I CAN. I DON'T HAVE ANY SPECIFICS YET, BUT IF ANYTHING COMES UP I'M SURE I COULD FIND SOME WAY TO CONTACT YOU."

Astor

"Yelling into the nearest radio always works! You might have to narrow down which Alastor you're asking for, but I've never had trouble with it! Although I *suppose* you could contact me online, too." He says this like the Internet is clearly the inferior of the two options.

Ruddy & Offal

"AND HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO NARROW DOWN WHAT ALASTOR I'M ASKING FOR. WHAT, DO YOU ALL HAVE YOUR OWN.." Ruddy flicks his wrist, vaguely gesturing at the air as he tries to remember a word. "CALL SIGNS? YOU CAN HARDLY EXPECT ME TO REMEMBER TO TUNE IN TO FREQUENCY 666.06, THE SLAUGHTER, AND ASK FOR ALASTOR *"DON'T-ASK-THE-RADIO-DEMON"* LAST NAME, THE RADIO DEMON."

Astor

"I generally broadcast on 670 AM, actually! Call sign KTRD! But don't you worry, you can yell for me on *any* frequency and I'll hear it." The biggest grin. Isn't he just so helpful. "If Alastor Don't-Ask-The-Radio-Demon-Last-Name-The-Radio-Demon is too much of a mouthful for you, you could also try asking for Marquis de Lafayette, I doubt there are any other Radio Demons answering to that. Or President Jefferson, if you *must.*" He has briefly forgotten that he has a nickname.

Ruddy & Offal

There's the classic Pentious Scrunch again, and Ruddy spends longer than remotely necessary giving Astor a *look*. Then he resumes the conversation like it never happened. "RIGHT. WELL THAT WONT BE NECESSARY, I DON'T KEEP ANY FUNCTIONAL RADIOS ON MY AIRSHIPS UNLESS I AM USING THEM AT THAT MOMENT. CONTACTING YOU *ONLINE* WILL WORK JUST FINE. BESIDES, IT SEEMS EXTREMELY ILL ADVISED TO SPEAK TO YOU ABOUT A *RADIO DEMON* OVER THE RADIO IN MY OWN HELL WHERE HE'S QUITE LIKELY TO PICK UP THE TRANSMISSION. UNLESS YOU'RE SAYING YOU'D BLOCK HIS ACCESS SOMEHOW?"

Astor

Astor gives a *look* right back. Why's Ruddy bothered by the fact that he's got a call sign. Of course he's got a call sign.

"I *can* block my alternates, actually; not enough to really keep one out, but enough that most wouldn't notice the signal unless they went looking, and I'd notice them knocking down my wards to listen in. I'd really only expect you to use it to tell me you want to talk, not to have the full conversation. *But*—" he offers a tight smile, "—as I said, online is fine, so all of this is a moot point!" *So whydja bring it up, Ruddy.* "But do keep the radio thing in mind in case of emergency. Not that I expect any, but it's the nature of emergencies to be unexpected, isn't it?"

Ruddy & Offal

"HM.." Now before he gets too interested in the specifics of *how* Alastor does that, he'd better stop letting his curiosity get away from him and actually stick to the point. "I WILL BE SURE TO WRITE YOUR INFORMATION DOWN IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, AS YOU SAID, AND ALLOW OFFAL TO FINALLY PUT SOME OF HIS OWN LITTLE RADIO CAPABLE KNICK KNACKS AROUND THE SHIP JUST TO BE SURE YOU ARE ACCESSIBLE." He didn't even notice the tight little smile, too busy wrapped up in himself. Typical. "NOW, ABOUT YOUR ONLINE ADDRESS. YOU SHARE YOUR BLOG WITH A TRANSCRIPTIONIST... OH, WAIT. GOODNESS, I FORGET. IS YOUR HELL STILL HOSTING A VOX? I'VE ENTIRELY TAKEN FOR GRANTED THE NOTION THAT HE'S DEAD!"

Astor

*Offal*, is that what his alternate has been dubbed? *Awful.* Poor thing. "We have an agreement, one we've shaken on. Among other things, she's not permitted to read my private messages. I trust her to honor it." He sighs heavily, *Vox.* "As for *him*—yes, he's still around, but I can completely keep him out of tracking my online activity. If he tries, all he'll get is static. All the same, I prefer discussing more sensitive matters in person, just in case he proves me wrong someday."

Ruddy & Offal

Ruddy drums his claws on the table, other hand rubbing his chin as he thinks. Does anything else spring to mind, any other immediate concerns...? Didn't seem so. He nods. "VERY WELL. IF I REQUIRE YOUR ADVICE, I WILL CONTACT YOU EITHER ONLINE OR OVER A RADIO DEPENDING ON URGENCY. HOPEFULLY YOU WONT HEAR MY *LOVELY* VOICE RATTLING AROUND YOUR AIRWAVES ANYTIME SOON." A self deprecating joke from good old Sir Pentious, he knows EXACTLY how grating his voice is. "I JEST. BUT TRULY. I AM SORRY THINGS WENT A BIT SIDEWAYS THERE IN THE MIDDLE, BUT YOU HAVE BEEN HELPFUL."

Astor

Maybe the self-deprecating joke would have landed if it was said to somebody who thinks Sir Pentious's voice is grating. However.

Receiving an apology is surprising enough that he starts, even though he doesn't know what it's for. "Which part was the middle?" Speaking of self-deprecation. However, he's afraid Sir Pentious might give him an answer, and then he'll know exactly what he's being judged for; so he hurries onward. "As long as I've done *something* helpful! I suppose I saved you having to explain the basics of v#xblr, didn't I?" He pauses. "Or whatever it was called around here." He's sure he's been told. He's already forgotten.

Ruddy & Offal

Oh, Satan, he forgot Alastors could do *that* with their mouths. He physically jolts, head jerking back before he can catch himself. But he plays it off as best he can, smoothing down his vest and hem hemming loudly. "YES, WELL. YOU HAVE DONE THAT. BEYOND THAT, OUTSIDE PERSPECTIVE ON THE BEFUDDLING FREELOADER IN MY HOME IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED. I AM A BIT TOO CLOSE TO THE SITUATION, AND A BIT TOO LEGLESS, TO TAKE A STEP BACK."

Astor

"Ha!" Snake jokes. Alastor's going to pretend he didn't accidentally startle Sir Pentious by revealing he knows how to pronounce a hashtag and quickly moves on: "Consider yourself welcome to ask me more about the befuddling freeloader at any time. I hope you don't think me too sentimental if I say I'm rather invested in my alternates' well-being; they're the closest things to cousins I've got left."

Ruddy & Offal

Ah, good, neither of them will comment on his Moment Of Surprise. Don't mind him as he adjusts poor Hattie, the poor thing was a little sideways. "NOT AT ALL. I'M INVESTED IN MY OWN ALTERNATES AS WELL, TO VARYING DEGREES." Lets ignore that his relationship with Telly is strained at best. He never said the investment was strictly positive. "NEXT TIME, I'LL EXTEND A PROPER DINNER INVITATION AND PREPARE SOMETHING SUITABLE TO SERVE A GUEST. YOU DESERVE COMPENSATION FOR YOUR TIME." This whole being nice thing does NOT come naturally, but he attempts a smile that's only SOMEWHAT lopsided. Very good effort.

Astor

*To varying degrees.* He can guess what *that* means. "I appreciate the consideration! Not that there was anything wrong with tonight's dinner, mind!" At least he'd know next time he wasn't overstaying his welcome by having dinner.

Ruddy & Offal

He COULD argue that tonight's dinner was incredibly basic fare, or he could just accept the compliment and move on. And who is Sir Pentious to turn his nose up at praise? So he hums, nods, and smooths his lapels. "I'M GLAD TO HEAR IT. UNTIL NEXT TIME THEN, ALASTOR. I'VE KEPT YOU LONG ENOUGH. DO YOU NEED ME TO ESCORT YOU TO THE EXIT, OR CAN YOU FIND YOUR OWN WAY HOME?"

Astor

Sure, it was basic, but like, the ingredient quality was top notch and it wasn't quite totally bland. He knows how to manage his own expectations. "I think I can make my own way out, thank you." He tips his head. "Until next time. And convey my regrets to my alternate for not being able to say goodbye to him in person."

Ruddy & Offal

"I'LL LET HIM KNOW YOU SAID GOODBYE, I'M SURE YOU'LL BE HEARING FROM HIM SOON ENOUGH." A polite nod, and Sir Pentious turns to begin his long and dramatic slither out of the room. No time to waste, he must go back to his workshop and continue whatever ridiculous project he's got on the table today.

Astor

One portal to dimensions unknown, and Alastor was gone too, headed back home to think over his alternate and what else he might do for him.

#ruddygore #offalgore #chat log

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