ayyyyyyyyy paper season's ending

[lessthanelementary]

What? No. No, I'm not going back.

Be reasonable about this. There's hardly enough there to hold my interest, let alone yours. There's no magic, and I will never be adept at muddling by without it, however many devices they shove into my hands to replace it. Really, dying is the only skill I have to offer that world, and I've proven to us both already that I'm no good at it-- not to their exacting standards, anyway.

It's not a productive use of my time, being there. It can't be a productive use of yours, either, watching me stumble around and make terrible noises when people stick knives in me. Think of all the good I could be doing any other world but that one! Think of all the places that could use me!

...That always was your problem, though. There's simply no bargaining with you.

Comments

[orestes]

I had figured even you might know better than to argue with the omnipotent.

[lessthanelementary]

What are our lives, really, but bargains struck with gods-- fixed-term contracts written by omnipotent hands? [A rhetorical question, spoken with all the sincerity of rote repetition.]

I see they haven't had you executed for sedition yet. My warmest congratulations.

[orestes]

By that logic, our lives are nothing. But I am by some degree an Aristotelian and thus freewill is paramount. I could argue existence by your scenario, but perhaps not living. [What do you mean, "rhetorical"?]

Why execute me when I can be made to continually suffer their system for the public good?

[lessthanelementary]

...I suppose you have a point. The threat of execution's less dire when in every other circumstance they treat it half as a reward, isn't it.

But more importantly-- you're debating my logic with an incomplete understanding of my principles! [Really! He wouldn't have expected it of you.] I would never refute your Aristoteli's freewill. The existence of a contract, you see, implies that both parties did at one point sign it.

[orestes]

In most circumstances, they treat it as a reward which is more often than not withheld.

[Neffa, you are not debating contracts with Enjolras.] The trouble with most societies is that your contract is not something we will ourselves into. We are products of a system which has been in place since before either of us came into being and which has, to some extent at least, dictated our form of existence.

And again, I specify existence because Aristotle would have little to do with this whole arrangement. May I ask when, exactly, you agreed to be ruled by omnipotent puppeteer?

[lessthanelementary]

Ah, that's where the theologians differ! Some say we set the terms of our contracts before birth, and in the passage to the mortal realm forget them. Others think they were all written at once when the world began. There's a great deal of disagreement, and I certainly haven't been following the debate. So I couldn't tell you, exactly.

Though who's to say gods don't make contracts with societies, as well?

[orestes]

Reason, Neffa. Reason is to say that Gods do not make contracts with societies. For if they do, what is to deny something as ridiculous as a divine right, or a preordained ruling caste?

Taking what we both know, what is to say that Panem did not make some contract with God if not reason? Other than our own repulsion at its results, of course.

[lessthanelementary]

I'm not acquainted with Panem's gods, and mine, regrettably, did not make the journey with me. But if gods only made reasonable contracts, Enjolras, I think the worlds would be a good deal more pleasant than they are.

[orestes]

Reason would argue that Gods do not make contracts at all.

[lessthanelementary]

Why should gods care for reason?

[orestes]

They do not. But contracts are a matter of reason. One cannot enter into a contract without some semblance of it, ergo I shall state again: Gods do not make contracts.

[lessthanelementary]

[His smile is unbothered.] Perhaps your gods don't.

[Gods, why is this not the angle he took dealing with you in the Capitol, why did he ever argue morals with you when he could have been arguing religion?]

[orestes]

[Enjolras maintains standard look of passive, but overall unimpressed.]

My God. I haven't the knowledge of that aspect of Panem's culture to speculate on their religious practices, however, I can safely say that for the French, there is but one God. [Because while he remembers the Cult of the Supreme Being, that was some reactionary bullshit and we don't need to rehash it all over again. Besides Roman Catholicism by any other name, etc.] Regardless, why would a God bother to negotiate with you? What purpose would it serve him? No, my friend. No God is responsible for this farce.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Woooooowwwww this is awkward.

[lessthanelementary]

Howard! Still alive, I see! Well done! That'll be the best part of going back, I think, seeing so many familiar faces. I sincerely hope you've been well.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Sarcasm looks really weird on you.

[lessthanelementary]

Well, sincerity's never gotten me very far with you.

...though I suppose I do owe you, don't I? I have you to thank, albeit indirectly, for my... reprieve.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

[And suddenly Howard's 100% on the defense.]

Is that a threat?

[lessthanelementary]

[He'd be lying if he told himself that that isn't just a little satisfying.]

Gods, no! How many arenas have I missed since you burned a house down on top of me? Two? Three? I really do think I might actually owe you for this.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

One.

But we can count it as two, if you're serious.

[lessthanelementary]

We can count it as one, because you burned a house down on top of me.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

...A delicious house, though.

[lessthanelementary]

What, did you pick the chocolate off of my bones, once the flames had died?

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Ew, no. Your bad attitude's probably contagious.

[carnagecarnival]

Perhaps a motherfucker just ain't struck at a good enough bargain.

THINK IT ON DIFFERENT TERMS, BROTHER. If you ain't good at dying, don't that all just mean at you're better on LIVING?

[lessthanelementary]

I couldn't agree more. I think I'm excellent at living. Better than most people I've met, even.

It's not our lives they televise in the Capitol, though.

[carnagecarnival]

Which is all what would be thought. ALL THOUGHT AT THAT WOULD BE IN MAJORITY. But then, proceed they up and do, to bring us back. JUST AS INTENT SEEMS TO BRING YOU BACK. Negates what all would be death and turns it all the fuck back into life again, don't a motherfucker think?

[lessthanelementary]

...It does run rather contrary to the generally-accepted definition of death, doesn't it? There's a... an implied finality they're missing.

[HE. REALLY LIKES THE WAY YOU THINK, ACTUALLY.]

[carnagecarnival]

NO FINALE. None of the afters proper. WE ARE ALL LIKE TO CONTINUING THE FUCK ALONG AS LIKE IT AIN'T WEREN'T TO BEING A THING. Instead, there's a war what all goes on outside arenas what motherfuckers need to be on watch for as those it regards to watch us... preform. IN IRONY OF IT A BROTHER COULD SAY, WELCOME BACK TO THE MOTHERFUCKING CIRCUS.

[And he is enjoying speaking with you. Miracles.]

[lessthanelementary]

[Truly, they are all around us.

...Thanks. Brother.

Are you talking of the rebellion?

[carnagecarnival]

[Brother. And there goes the grin the widening grin. No face should be able to stretch like that.]

He could be. IT AIN'T EASY ALL TO SAY. But they ain't fighting no one. CERTAINLY SOME SURPRISES MAY BE OF YOU WHEN YOU RETURN.

[factotum]

As far as bargains go, it would seem the entertainment value outweighs that of utility or productivity. Maybe you should make quieter, more boring noises when people stab you.

[lessthanelementary]

It's a fascinating conundrum, that place-- they like good deaths, but they're no less likely to kill you again if your death fails to satisfy. I was once assured, in the weeks following a rather disappointing televised slitting of my throat, that I would do better next time.

[A rather weak smile.] Believe me. I always intended to go quietly.

[factotum]

"Do better." Did they give you any advice on how that would be accomplished? You should angle your arterial spray toward the camera? Use it to paint a picture in your last moments?

[lessthanelementary]

Oh, you can't know how shameful it was-- I could hardly have done worse. I neither fought back, nor cried out anyone's name in my final moments. It was barely worth watching. [The look of vague repulsion on his face does not match the affected embarrassment in his tone.]

...perhaps you would do well there, though! You're clearly a man of ideas. You could hire yourself out as a consultant, to those of us tributes not blessed with the gift of spectacle.

[factotum]

I'm afraid I've never really taken to physical manifestation. [ This is said very pleasantly, as if expressing a mild conversational opinion of a type of food or music. ]

Like you, I'm more into making deals. I'm sorry to hear of the lack of magic. I'm sure if you had it, your deaths would be masterpieces.

[lessthanelementary]

Had I my magic, I would already have won the Hunger Games, and died my last death for the cameras.

[A pause-- more importantly--] ...I hope you won't think me intrusive, friend, but as a magician I feel obligated to inquire-- what... what manner of manifestation do you prefer...?

[Spirits don't physically manifest, usually, but spirits also don't speak like people. Maybe talking of gods before this was a bad idea...]

[factotum]

[ Again a tone of bland pleasantry: ] That sounds much more entertaining than what you've described. There's no accounting for taste with these people, is there?

As for me, I don't. I generally tell a human brain to perceive the appropriate stimuli. The magicians I've served seem to prefer a consistent semblance.

[doesnotsew]

The offer still stands to help you die a little better.

[lessthanelementary]

...Asha. I was sure you'd forgotten about me.

[SUCH DELICATELY AFFECTED PATHOS.] How heartening, to find your thoughts still bent toward to my interrupted rise to fame.

[doesnotsew]

Fear not, my lord, I should never forget a man such as... Neesha? Niffer?

[close enough, anyway]

A man should strive to rise to something, I'm simply doing my part to help.

[lessthanelementary]

Don't worry. It'll come to you, once you've had a few moments. My face will help you recall it. Just keep your eyes on it.

Now, tell me-- was there a funeral? Did you write me a song?

[doesnotsew]

[And she snorts] My mistake. I'll be sure to stare you in your face.

Girls wept for days. The newest tributes hear the songs and know in their bones that they could never achieve such greatness as-- what was it, collapsing under a pile of molded sugar? I only got to see it once, you see; there wasn't even time to put it to verse.