We had... I don't remember. Seven? or so killers. They were called Generals. They would would pick two of them to hunt someone every night in the jungle on the island. Some of the corpses we found, though, had been chopped into pieces. So we thought it was them.
We couldn't tell if they had been chopped up before or after they died.
[ Clearing his throat, taking another sip of his drink and then offering it up? He might not be tall enough to reach the top of the statues here, but he'll try. ]
A robot somehow managed to frame my friend-- Well. We weren't very close when I was alive. Hated each other in fact, but I died, and then I showed up on that space station, and she was there too, and it was a whole thing - but the point is, over the course of the day everyone thought it was increasingly obvious she had done it and convinced themselves of that. I did my damned best to try and get myself voted for, but, you know, once the tide has turned, hard to shift it. Everyone voted for her, turns out it was wrong, she still got ... [ gestures, like referencing the shirt in his closet.] Lavafied.
[He doesn't say anything, but he waves his hand in a politely dismissive gesture at the offer.]
Lavafied? You mean you guys didn't have to figure out how to knife each other over the dinner table? [Dry. But then more sincerely:] People think you're covering if you try too hard to die.
But I get it. We spent four days voting for innocent people, except when we found the Zaroff, before we got a General. Not our finest hours either.
Seven actually. In a row, yeah. We were in the jungle at night, head counting at breakfast the next day, finding bodies for lunch, and then accusing whoever at dinner.
[He leans his head back.]
I guess this is where you lecture me when I say that we found our first General because I happened to leave a cut on them before I died. It was the only time they checked for injuries, but I was dead. I don't think they ever checked again.
Why would you even tell me that? I'd never have known otherwise, you know. Fuck. The truth sucks, always lie when you can. Now I just know that and I can use it.
[ but he takes another drink at the seven days in a row thing. ]
At least we don't seem to be on that schedule. What in the fuck is that.
I would say sure, you'll just tattle on me, and you probably will. But you told me you lie all the time. So maybe I'm banking on you lying.
[He is just bullshitting.]
It'd be over faster, but it'd probably be a lot worse. Guess I don't have a choice. Will just have to get used to--what? Eight weeks? And all this weird friendship-y downtime. [There is a REALLY long pause here. A really long debating one.] ...
...Sorry about the gun. I just don't care for people trying to manhandle me.
[Jason has problems with authority? WHO WOULD HAVE GUESSED.]
[ He doesn't look up at the apology, because it's actually very sweet and he doesn't want to push his luck with it, but he's clearly grinning a bit. ]
Eight weeks of weird friendship-y time. At least. Hopefully not longer. [ But waving a hand over his shoulder. ] Consider it forgotten already. Except when I need a reason to mildly bitch about something or other.
You really shouldn't forgive someone who pointed a gun at you and called you Satan, you know. Why can't you just be petty and hold a grudge like the rest of us?
[Don't just leave them to be unhinged and awful on their own.]
Uh. The Devil? The Boogeyman? Never seen or met him, shockingly. Big red dude who looks like a very ugly version of you who rules over Hell. Uh--did you go in the hell door in the hallway? Saw him in there with Yoo.
Did I? I don't think I did. I think Harrowhawk blew the horn to summon the Valkyries, and then you got so excited you said, "If I run and leap at Jason Todd, he will most certainly catch me in his arms."
I'm not going to pretend I don't like a strong opening salvo ...
[ he won't. he's finished his flask mostly by this point, so he's just buzzed and annoying now. ]
I suppose you were polite enough to say sorry about the gun, so, if I were a really forgiving guy I'd say a sorry about the aggression. But, I dunno. Seems too easy.
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We had... I don't remember. Seven? or so killers. They were called Generals. They would would pick two of them to hunt someone every night in the jungle on the island. Some of the corpses we found, though, had been chopped into pieces. So we thought it was them.
We couldn't tell if they had been chopped up before or after they died.
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[ Taking another drink. ]
Yours wins I think. Mine wasn't great, but no one was dismembered, far as I remember.
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[ Clearing his throat, taking another sip of his drink and then offering it up? He might not be tall enough to reach the top of the statues here, but he'll try. ]
A robot somehow managed to frame my friend-- Well. We weren't very close when I was alive. Hated each other in fact, but I died, and then I showed up on that space station, and she was there too, and it was a whole thing - but the point is, over the course of the day everyone thought it was increasingly obvious she had done it and convinced themselves of that. I did my damned best to try and get myself voted for, but, you know, once the tide has turned, hard to shift it. Everyone voted for her, turns out it was wrong, she still got ... [ gestures, like referencing the shirt in his closet.] Lavafied.
Wasn't anyone's finest hour.
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Lavafied? You mean you guys didn't have to figure out how to knife each other over the dinner table? [Dry. But then more sincerely:] People think you're covering if you try too hard to die.
But I get it. We spent four days voting for innocent people, except when we found the Zaroff, before we got a General. Not our finest hours either.
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[ He doesn't seem offended or anything. ]
Four ... days? In a row?
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[He leans his head back.]
I guess this is where you lecture me when I say that we found our first General because I happened to leave a cut on them before I died. It was the only time they checked for injuries, but I was dead. I don't think they ever checked again.
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Why would you even tell me that? I'd never have known otherwise, you know. Fuck. The truth sucks, always lie when you can. Now I just know that and I can use it.
[ but he takes another drink at the seven days in a row thing. ]
At least we don't seem to be on that schedule. What in the fuck is that.
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[He is just bullshitting.]
It'd be over faster, but it'd probably be a lot worse. Guess I don't have a choice. Will just have to get used to--what? Eight weeks? And all this weird friendship-y downtime. [There is a REALLY long pause here. A really long debating one.] ...
...Sorry about the gun. I just don't care for people trying to manhandle me.
[Jason has problems with authority? WHO WOULD HAVE GUESSED.]
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[ He doesn't look up at the apology, because it's actually very sweet and he doesn't want to push his luck with it, but he's clearly grinning a bit. ]
Eight weeks of weird friendship-y time. At least. Hopefully not longer. [ But waving a hand over his shoulder. ] Consider it forgotten already. Except when I need a reason to mildly bitch about something or other.
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[Don't just leave them to be unhinged and awful on their own.]
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[ Though: ]
What is a Satan, exactly?
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[How do you describe Satan.]
Uh. The Devil? The Boogeyman? Never seen or met him, shockingly. Big red dude who looks like a very ugly version of you who rules over Hell. Uh--did you go in the hell door in the hallway? Saw him in there with Yoo.
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[ he doesn't seem THAT insulted. ]
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[Or cornered maybe, but he does not say this. Anyhow, he’s unfortunately self aware!]
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[He glances down.]
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[ winking at him. ]
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[He just gives Molly a LOOK at the wink.]
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[ Grinning at him, completely unashamed. ]
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[STOP GRINNING]
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[ he won't. he's finished his flask mostly by this point, so he's just buzzed and annoying now. ]
I suppose you were polite enough to say sorry about the gun, so, if I were a really forgiving guy I'd say a sorry about the aggression. But, I dunno. Seems too easy.
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I'm the last person who won't validate you for having too much aggression. You've got the wrong guy for that.