reality_crossroads | (no subject)

"Yeah, okay, fair enough," Marty says, smiling a little. "Just letting you know just in case. Sometimes it isn't obvious -- I've heard a story or two about the place getting gassed with something that makes you see your worst fear. Never happened while we've been coming, thank God, but still."

I'm not afraid o' much, sai. What I do fear's not the sort o' thing ya can see, either. How does one hallucinate a-lack-of-food, say, or never-findin'-friends?

"Yeah, I bet you aren't," Marty says, thinking about the spider form. "And -- well, I dunno. Being skeletally skinny? Locked in a dark room all alone?" He shrugs. "Like I said, never happened while I've been coming, and hopefully it never will. I don't think I want to see this place get creative with worst fears." Not when he still has nightmares of Arcadia years on.

Anyone as tries such a thing on me will get bitten. *Mordred licks his lips at the mere thought.* I know there be folken as would try it, and I know that folken as do try it will have their eyes plucked out an' their tongues ripped free.

*For a moment his gaze flicks around the other's face. Then he forces himself to look away with a wince.* Cry thy pardon if I frighten ya, sai. It's just that ya look good enough ta eat . . .

Marty's about to comment that he's pretty sure a guy who tries to gas the Nexus in general will probably not be around when it happens (gassing Mordred personally is of course a different matter) when Mordred comes out with that, and. . . That's really not something you say if you want the person you're talking to to stick around. He stares silently for a moment, then manages to reply, "Yeah, well, try it and you're probably gonna be on the receiving end of a lightning bolt. I mention my uncle can control the weather?"

I wouldn't, sai. It's just that I be thinkin' about food now, ya ken? So my thoughts latch on ta the nearest meat in sight. Not my fault that be you.

Poor mad Mordred's always hungry, always a-hungry big . . . stupid bedamned appetites. *He looks a bit sad.* Don't run away, please an' thankya, if only because me first instinct's ta chase.

Marty relaxes some as Mordred explains. "Yeah, okay -- sorry, didn't think about it like that. I think I'm too used to meeting humans -- or robots -- over here in the Nexus these days. Don't have a lot of practice with, uh, other species." He doesn't think his time in Arcadia counts when it comes to demon-spider-people. At least, not the ones who are actually making an effort to be friendly.

After a short pause, he adds, "Never actually introduced myself, did I? Name's Marty -- Marty McFly."

May your days be long upon the earth, Marty. I be Mordred Deschain of many titles, none o' which are apt ta mean much ta thee, so I think I'll skip them.

Marty snorts. "Yeah, probably for the best. I've read some Stephen King, but I don't think I know the story you're -- uh, 'from' doesn't seem like the right word. . .story you inspired, maybe?" He shrugs. "At any rate, nice to meet you."

Praps you shall, one day.

"Read the story? If I can find it, sure. Nothing but time where me and my family live -- it's a quiet place, and none of us need a job, so. . ."

Look in the library, praps? I believe the name o' the tale be The Dark Tower, an' I be in the last book alone. My life was not, after all, so very long.

"Good idea," Marty nods. "Though I'll probably have to start from book one if I want to understand it all."

Aye, but these be Stephen King books. They be long.

"Like I said, I've got the time -- though maybe I'll go through the Cliff Notes version first," Marty admits, rubbing the back of his head. "We talking The Stand long? Dave tried reading that -- told me it was almost a thousand freakin' pages."

A few of them are about that long, aye.

I met the main villain o' The Stand once, you know. *He grins for a moment, and it is monstrous.* He was quite delicious.

"Definitely Cliff's Notes first then," Marty mumbles. He's got the time, but a book that long, let alone a series of them, is a pretty serious undertaking.

And that's a creepy grin. You can definitely see the demon in him there. Marty, however, fortunately finds something else to think about. "Didn't he get blown up at the end of that book, though? I remember Dave skipping to the end and saying there was a big explosion. . ." He looks Mordred up and down. "Then again, you're here despite being dead."

He's a true sorcerer an' probably survived even me. A mere explosion can be ignored by such as Walter who be Martin who be Flagg. The 'man' can teleport, bet ya anythin'.

"Well, Dave said something about him being maybe kind of the Devil, so. . ." Another shrug. He's been doing that a lot. "Just hoping he doesn't show up here. Wouldn't that be an awkward reunion for you guys."

Sai Flagg merely thought himself the Devil, for all that he was a longtimer. Poor silly child o' Maerlyn thought too highly o' his power an' too lowly o' mine.

Say true, say very true indeed. Not that I'd say no ta another fine feast, cry thy pardon.

"Is that so?" Learn something new every day. "And hey, even if the guy wasn't actually the Devil, he sure as hell acted the part. I don't think anybody would mind you chowing down on him a second time."

He'd mind, surely, but I'm not the sort as can afford ta care about my prey's feelin's. Not when there is eatin' ta be done. *He sneers a bit.* He was a dumb old fuck an' we're better off without him, anyway.

Marty snickers. "Yeah, I wasn't counting how he felt when I said that. I know I don't really want to run into him, given what little I know about him." He rubs the back of his neck. "Been pretty lucky in general, honestly, not running into people like that." He's encountered jerks, sure, but they've been fairly garden variety (at least in their actions).

Kind o' ya, not countin' me as such a one. Mordred be a monster, after all, will he or nil he.

Had we met in my world I'd have eaten thee. Be a damn fool not ta, starvin' thing that I was, with the other options bein' dead crows an' some sort o' mutant coyote thing.

"Yeah, but you're at least making an effort to be nice. Civil, at the very least."

Except when he says things like that. Marty raises an eyebrow. "I dunno, I hear mutant coyote things are really good this time of the year."