dear_mun | I'm not sorry.

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I'm not sorry.

[A little boy with ragged clothes and a cleft palate sits in a shadowy corner, hugging his legs to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. His eyes follow anyone who passes him, and quietly under his breath...]

Maybe that one's a demon? Or... maybe that one? [He runs a hand through his hair, chewing his lower lip.] Uh, no, that one has kind eyes, or... well, people said Sir Anseme had nice eyes. Maybe that's a sign?

[He lets out a ragged sigh and runs a hand through his hair.] It's easier when he's here. I should've asked him more questions about spotting demons. [He looks up at the sky, where he assumes his mun is watching over him.] Do you know where he might have gone? It doesn't feel safe when he's not around.

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You're looking for demons? Awesome!

[...

...

...

WHAT ARE YOU

ARE YOU A DEMON

YOU ARE INCREDIBLY OBVIOUS IF YOU ARE

The boy will just be staring... and trying to edge away...]

Perhaps you should spend less time looking for monsters, if you want to escape their notice.

[He knows that voice!

The boy perks up, looking around for the source, then gives the Bogeyman a smile. What does it say about him that he's happy to see the embodiment of fear?]

How do I keep out of their way if I don't know who they are?

[ Probably that he's not long for this world, if this is the crowd he hangs around ;~; ]

Most everyone else seems to manage just fine.

[ pause ]

Why are you here?

[Yes, well, he already assumed he wouldn't live to see the other side of puberty, so it works out.

He stands up and brushes dirt off his knees, giving a small, helpless shrug.] I'm not sure. She--[He points to the sky to indicate his mun.]--said she wanted to play and took me here.

It hasn't been too bad. I don't feel so hungry here. [He lowers his hand slowly.] Why are you here?

Better here than some of the other places, I suppose. Some of them are quite vicious.

Because it's prudent for me to keep an eye on this place... all of the muns like to cause trouble.

Like where? [And, as usual, Pitch has made him simultaneously curious and a little scared. Is it weird that he finds it comforting?] Memes aren't too bad, right? Because she said she might put me in some of those.

[Ugh, Pitch, why do you tantalize him with bits and pieces of information?] ...What kind of trouble?

Memes can be good or bad, depending on what your mun's preference is. I imagine given your age you might be spared some of the more outrageous ones.

You never know who might crop up: you are something of a case in point.

Um... [He looks questioningly at his mun, listening intently.] She says I'm safe from shipping, but she's not making any other promises. [...Shipping? What, are those memes where he's put on a boat or something?

He awkwardly shrugs and hugs himself, instinctively protecting from a chill in the air, even now that he's been told that the cold can't kill him anymore.] It doesn't feel like that long since you went away. [Not long at all, actually. Then again, it hasn't been too long for the boy--it's been maybe a few weeks since the Bogeyman left. Unknown to the boy, he left his world about a week shy of his death.]

It is good to hear that exception, else your mun and I might need to have words.

... it has been a far longer time, for me.

Why? What does it mean? [He doesn't think the Bagman would care about him being put in a boat. What's serious enough for him to actually consider speaking on the boy's behalf?

The boy can't help but feel that that sounds vaguely ominous.] How much longer? [Maybe he's dead by now. It wouldn't surprise him. He can't help but sort of hope that he had a chance to see the Bogeyman again before he died; after all, despite everything strange and scary about him, he's the only one who talked to the boy like anyone else.]

[ Probably because Pitch has been thrown very unwillingly into a few of those shipping memes himself and loathed every one of them. ]

Long enough that even the monsters really were gone from the world.

Gone? [The boy furrows his brow. How long would that take? A hundred years? A thousand?

What force is so great that it could destroy demons like the one disguised as Sir Anseme?]

Why did the monsters die?

[He wonders about how long ago he died from the Bagman's view, but he finds he would rather not know. He doubts he'd be remembered too well after so long. After all, an immortal must have spoken to many children the way he spoke to him.

He'd rather think that the Bagman remembers his life, than to confirm he was as insignificant as any other mortal must be to an immortal.]

Perhaps the world grew up, like children do.

[ Pitch turns, calling a Nightmare out of the shadows for Jonah to see. He hadn't begun corrupting the Sandman's dreamsand yet, not when he'd last seen the boy so this would be new for him. ]

But some of us learn new tricks, over the years. These would have given those wolves a run for their money.

[ See, he does remember you. ]

[He does remember.

(Is it strange that that makes him immeasurably happy?)

The boy's eyes get wide when he sees the horse, his heart fluttering in his chest. Pitch's power often makes him nervous, but he's not frightened by it anymore. He doesn't think the Bagman would hurt him... at least he hopes he wouldn't.

He hesitates, then inches a little closer, looking at the beast's beautiful sand coat from a safe distance.]

Would it try eating me too if I touched it?

[Just to be safe, he wants to know he's not about to get his arm bitten off. He normally avoids wild animals, but this is something the Bogeyman made, and it's unlike anything he's seen before. He'd like to be able to at least get a good look at it. It's beautiful, in a somewhat nerve-wracking way.]

[ Pitch reads the worry, losing a limb, gold eyes gleam at the new fear caused in the boy. ]

No, it won't bite you. Besides, you are already feeding it... they live in fear, just like I do.

[You are already feeding it. You certainly know how to put a kid's nerves to rest, don't you, Pitch?

His little heart starts to beat faster, but he takes a deep breath and then finally inches closer to the creature, tentatively reaching out and resting his hand on its flank.

The texture is strangely grainy, and as he carefully moves his hand along the beast's side, black sand comes away on his hand.

The sand feels very strange. It feels like he should be avoiding it at all costs, but his relative familiarity with fear allows him to keep touching it.]

Is that how you survive? By people being scared?

[He supposes he's a source that's gone mostly dry by now, then. Sure, the Bagman will always unsettle him, and he doesn't think his power will never not be nerve-wracking, but Jonah isn't scared like other children must be. He no longer feels his heart leap in his throat and his blood ring in his ears. In fact, fear... actually comforts him a little, if it makes sense. It's unsettling, but it's presence means that he's aware of the danger that's always present in his time, and that's all he needs.]

[ He doesn't make his living putting people's nerves to rest, little one. The grin he's wearing is enough evidence of that, and it's not a particularly pleasant expression. The Nightmare snorts but doesn't move away from Jonah's touch, the unbound grains of black sand turning to smoky mist and disappearing. ]

Yes, it is. Think of it as how... a plant needs sunlight, if you will.

I guess that makes sense...

[Ugh Pitch why do you have to be so unsettling

Jonah keeps petting the beast gently, his little heart beating faster than it ought to be, but he's more nervous than outright fearful now. He's relatively certain that the Bagman and his creatures won't hurt him, so he's not afraid for his life.]

It's really pretty. [He tilts his head to look at the Nightmare's muzzle, watching the light dance off its coat in dark purples and greens. He didn't know that the Bogeyman could make beautiful things.] How long did it take you to learn?

[That might be a subconscious way of asking how long it's been since the boy's died in the Bogeyman's time. He doesn't know what makes him significant enough to remember at all, let alone to be approached in a place like this. Maybe it hasn't been long at all, and time has yet to wash away the insignificant memories.

Because even Jonah believes he's insignificant. Just another life that came and went without leaving a mark on the world.]

[ Because I have a reputation to keep. Pitch makes a show of thinking about the time even though he has the answer within a few seconds. The 1930s were a grim time, and his power had been brought so low that even if the clash of 1566 had turned out differently, he would have had trouble. ]

To change the dreamsand? Almost a century... I could not risk taking too much of it at once, lest I drew the Guardians' attention to me once again. I started when the state of the world was very low... perhaps even as much so as those witch hunts, though brought low in a different way.

[ He knows the boy's fear and though he'd scoffed at Toothiana's desperate attempt to plead Jonah's remembrance during that time, there was very little that Pitch Black forgot. ]

That was a long time after you, since you are musing on it.

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I'm not sorry.

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sorry, RL happened ;~;

No problem!

:D

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I had to go reread the comics to make sure I got my dates right lol.