justasaleswoman | (no subject)

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Well, this is unexpected.

Verity is reasonably certain she's dead. Really dead, dead-for-a-demon dead, not just dead-for-a-human dead, which she's been for centuries. And while she can't say she's ever given much thought to where you wound up when you were dead-for-a-demon dead, if someone had asked, she probably would have guessed, well, nowhere.

Not the bar at the end of the universe.

Then again, this may not be Milliways. It may just look like it. End of the universe, last stop on the way from somewhere to no where, final frantic blip of a dying consciousness, a place and a time that are in fact neither a place nor a time, who can say? That stuff gets determined way above her paygrade.

Well, above what was her paygrade. She does seem to have been recently terminated.

The place, whatever and however it is, is silent and deserted -- there's not so much as a waitrat to be seen. Even without looking, she knows there's no one else here. Just like she doesn't need a mirror to know that she's wearing her own face for the first time in . . . well, the years are hard to compute. Let's just leave it at ages.

On the other side of the observation window, the universe goes on ending, and with nothing else to do, Verity wanders over to watch it do so.

And then nothing changes but everything does. There's not even a whisper of sound, not so much as flicker to change the light, no telltale disturbance of the air. But she's no longer the only one here, and she knows it. Knows who she'll see if she turns around, too.

"I probably should have guessed you'd be here, darling."

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"Pawn to queen's four, then.

"Though I am definitely not the queen in this particular strategy."

"No," Michael says evenly. "You're not."

It's a truth they both know very well.

"But neither am I."

"I suspect you have a better view of the board than I did, though.

"Still, the grandmasters aren't here, are they?

"So the white knight and the black pawn can meet in the no man's land in the middle of the game and swap cigarettes or something."

She frowns, thinking.

"That metaphor went a little awry."

"A better view of a board, at the least."

Michael flicks her fingers in a swift, dismissive gesture.

"And a longer view of history. I'm afraid I can't help you with the metaphor."

The metaphor is beyond help.

"You've seen a lot more of history than I did.

"Grand scheme of things, I'm really not that old.

"I died, for the first time, well after the Europeans reached the Americas.

"And for what it's worth, if you ever get to pick, being shot in the forehead has it all over being hanged.

"Especially if the hangman doesn't know a damn thing about how to tie a knot."

"Mmm. It's about on par with a headsman who doesn't know how to sharpen an axe."

She pauses a moment to consider that, lifting up her hand to push a few strands of hair out of her eyes.

"Or perhaps a little worse."

"Perhaps."

Well, reallly, they both pale in comparison to worse.

Verity went through a lot of worse, shortly after the hanging finally ended.

But that's hardly the point right now.

"Getting shot at least is quick.

"There's not even time to process the thought Sam Winchester actually shot me."

Michael's eyebrows hit her hairline, but the rest of her stays unmoving.

"I wouldn't have imagined that was a thought that required processing.

"Considering."

"Considering what?"

"Love."

That was blunt.

"Sibling loyalty."

That was maybe less so.

"Desperation. There's also the truism about the danger of cornered rats."

"Fair," Verity says.

"And I did tell him to go ahead if he wanted to, so I guess it shouldn't have been a surprise when he took me up on an offer I made at a crossroads.

"Still, I didn't think he had it in him."

Edited 2010-07-23 00:44 (UTC)

"Mmm," Michael says.

"Now we both know better."

"Yes, we do."

And so do some other people, who will no doubt put that knowledge to very good use.

"And has death bettered your knowledge of anything else, Verity?"

Her friendly neighborhood archangel wants to know.

"Not yet."

Verity raises an eyebrow.

"Are there other things it should have bettered my knowledge of?"

It's all very new ground.

"I wouldn't know. I haven't died yet."

Not in any of the stories.

But there's time.

"I guess we'll take it as it comes, then.

"We do seem to be off the edges of any map I've ever seen."

Here be dragons.

"I would have imagined you to prefer it that way."

Maybe it's the demon in her.

Edited 2010-07-23 01:22 (UTC)

"Being out of bounds?

"It's novel, to be sure."

Most of Verity's existance has been about getting very good at working within bounds, after all.

Demon or no, she was a company girl.

"That is very unlikely to change."

Considering how little time remains.

For one.

Verity turns her head to look over at the door.

"I feel like there should be a clock ticking down in here somewhere," she says.

But then, that would require measurable time.

"How's your brother?"

"Passing fair," Michael says easily.

"And moving forward in his plan to convince mankind to rewrite God."

Her mouth twitches faintly.

"It keeps him busy."

Verity laughs.

"It would.

"Taking a blue pencil to god.

"Well, it's not like they don't do it already.

"Does he have a particular revision in mind?"

"Of course."

Michael's voice is very dry.

"He has plans within plans, does my brother. Much to everyone's surprise, I'm sure."

"I know I'm shocked," Verity says.

"Will you help him, if he asks?"