"Skill and survival are the only things that matter" [open]

[swordofajerk]

[There's a moment of disorientation, of feeling like he's slipping into (or out of) something, and then suddenly there is a Spectre in the middle of Limbo yelling and shoving the other Spectres nearby out of his way and reaching for something that should be on his hip but isn't and all he can thing of is he needs something.

Sword? Maybe? That feels right, he needs a sword. Where can he get one, why doesn't he have one, why does he want one, why the hell is he suddenly aware of the fact that he is dead?]

Dammit. What the hell is going on--

Comments

[schardynfreude]

[Don't mind a lurker, lurking, watching. Probably won't mind him at all unless he looks up! What with Chiron crouched atop a lamppost, watching the yelling and raving.]

I daresay, [he calls down, mildly entertained] that's a rather rude way to go about it.

[swordofajerk]

[He starts, looking around for the speaker and glaring up at the other man when he spots him.]

Who are you?

[schardynfreude]

It seems to me that the more pertinent question is: who are you?

[swordofajerk]

I asked first.

[schardynfreude]

And as it so happens, I asked second.

Hmmmm~ [One might get the impression of a cat flicking his tail back and forth.] Unless, of course, you don't know who you are.

[swordofajerk]

Answer the question already.

[Not the most deft of dodges, but hey.]

[schardynfreude]

Are you going to stop harassing the poor folk who already get enough weirdness from those of us who have awakened from our deathly slumber if I do?

[swordofajerk]

Yes.

[Maybe.]

[schardynfreude]

[You know what, good enough. Chiron hefts himself back up and does a bit of stretching before he simply blinks from existence with naught but a reddish after-image atop the pole.

Oh, he didn't go far, ten feet's nothing, but he is quite suddenly on the ground and closer. He gives a flourishing bow.]

Good day to you; I am called Chiron. At least for now. And you seem to be quite lost.

[swordofajerk]

[The man starts because what the hell...but okay. This man can teleport. Fine.]

For now? Do you change names often?

[schardynfreude]

Mm, I would not say often, but I started out thinking my name or...title or whatnot was Your Majesty.

[He makes a bit of a face.] Which several of my fellows said 'no thank you' and came up with something else. So. Chiron it is. Until I remember my name, I suppose.

[swordofajerk]

[Chiron gets a judging Look.]

Good idea. You don't look like a king...

[schardynfreude]

You should have seen it when the one who went by Kingslayer was around. I had wonder if I should fear them. I didn't, but. [Still! Dismissive hand flick.] I didn't pick the name, either of them.

You seem to have woken up, however. Have you a name or word or something strange that seems like a name in spite of it probably not being any kind of name?

[swordofajerk]

[A shrug.]

All I know is I need a sword. I doubt that counts.

[schardynfreude]

And whyever do you think you need a sword?

[swordofajerk]

Because I do?

[But that is a good question. It's not like he was in any danger before waking up, so to speak, so why the hell was the first thing he thought was "I need a sword"?]

[schardynfreude]

It could be that you had one in your life. And it could be that you might wield one again, with the proper power.

[swordofajerk]

And I suppose this is the part where you offer me that power, isn't it?

[Does he look like someone easily fooled, sir?]

[schardynfreude]

Me? Heavens no! [He laughs, hand to his chest.] Goodness me, no.

It's a terribly small young lady who grants you the power to fix what is broken.

[swordofajerk]

[Sir, you look like the sketchiest of salespeople and gave what sounded like a sales pitch. Can you blame the poor guy?

But. Also.]

I'm not broken.

[schardynfreude]

[He may or may not be leaning into the fact that he has learned, through several of these iterations, that he sounds like he's trying to get people to join a cult.

or he's crazy but pff]

Not you. Don't you feel it? That there is something...fundamentally wrong here? Something seeping in your very bones without the faintest idea what it is?

[swordofajerk]

Other than the realization that I'm dead, you mean?

[He shrugs.]

[schardynfreude]

...Huh. [Usually they feel it when it's pointed out to them. Maybe this one isn't Executor material? Or...something...?]

In any event, this is some strange afterlife, we're told there's to be reincarnation of some sort at the end, but the mechanism by which that happens is busted, thus, a fundamental imbalance in...the universe? I'm not sure, to be fair, how that works. Surely more people are born into the world, and it doesn't need the rest of us to repopulate it, but I haven't the faintest. It's the first I recall being dead.

[swordofajerk]

[He is very good at focusing on a singular thing, okay?]

Assuming any of that is true, if there's reincarnation then the "more people" are just formerly dead people.

[Duh.]

[schardynfreude]

Everyone had to come from something, somewhere. I can't possibly imagine a world where millions or billions of people simply existed one day.

Not that I can very much imagine my world or any at this point.

But the point. The point, then, is that if we assume it's all true as much as a small young lady who has been at this longer than the rest of us and seems to have the slightest inkling of what she's doing can be sure, then the only way you're going to hold a sword again and feel any way right about it is if you help us fight our way down to these stuck gears and let reincarnation or rebirth or what have you happen.

...One of these days I'm going to get the recruitment speech right and not sound completely insane.