Use Your Imagination (Morte, Deacon)

[Lovely]

August 24th 2006

The map itself was a strange treasure, showing figures for every living thing in his power, morphing and shifting, stopping like a fingertip would halt a spinning globe, to show Morte a scene and allow him to topple whomever was next to be collected. The surface was seemingly solid, like any paper map, but it was Morte's and the power of death made it a busy surface to watch - and him a busy man.

Not so busy, Deacon came to discover, that the man didn't take time out to enjoy himself, especially in teasing the boy about the 'red-headed chic' he'd encountered. He pulled the cork from a fresh wine bottle to pour a glass, letting it breathe - unlike anything else in the room, then forced a sigh of his own. Morte was sounding ever so like a bemused father. "So, I'm not supposed to call you 'Mister'.... what about 'Dad'?" Deacon folded his arms and quirked a small but daring grin.

Morte leaned over his map, his gaze intent as he listened to the man in the room with him as well as the churning of his map. Without missing a beat his eyebrow cocked and he brought his gaze briefly to Deacon's. "Now you see why I didn't want you to violate your sister?" He asked gently, meaning the girl he'd created the night of the ripple.

"Oh please. I could bring up some dozen or so bits of Shakespearean hoopla that mirrors that scenario," he joked, believing Morte was joking as well. "It worked just fine for them."

Morte chuckled softly. He remembered William even if he didn't recall all the details of the work, his head shook slightly."Yes but they weren't my kids and didn't they all end up dead?"

Maybe he wasn't joking. Deacon eyed him warily. "Your point?" He was suddenly afraid that the man might have one to make at his expense.

"You spent too much time with your mother." Hadn't that always been the point... his time as a mortal? "..and you can't violate your sister, no matter how hott I made her." That was his thought on that matter..

He laughed, his head tipping to the side as he thought deeper on that. It wasn't like they were truly related. "Not like I'd get a chance.. not with her and Venge doing the 'tongue tango' every chance he gets..."

"You're much more attractive than Venge." He meant that genuinely and looked up from his maps to direct his gaze on Deacon for a moment. "You don't need your sister.. " He waved his hand as though to say let the two play together. "What about that red-head chick you had dinner with?.. why don't you violate her?" He suggested with the hint of a grin on his face.

He chuckled again, giving the man a look like he just might be crazy. "I can't. Let me rephrase that.. -she- can't. It's not in her nature."

"Why not?" He posed the question well aware of what limitations existed and what ones did not for the kind of being the red head was. She could take on solid human form and enjoy all the pleasures of the flesh if she so desired.

How could he explain? "She.. is the embodiment of love. What do I need that for?"

There were several reasons he could list but it seemed the boy needed to figure it out on his own. He did want to be 'helpful' and gently lead the boy along the right path but it was amusing to watch him try to make sense of it all."She's hott?" He shrugged. "fine, fine... there's plenty of others out there mortal and not.. "

Deacon shrugged it off, setting the cork back lightly in the bottle. "Don't think it didn't cross my mind... several times, but I still don't really see the point."

"Hey maybe she can hook you up? I bet she knows lots of lovely ladies.." He commented as if suggesting he pursue other avenues of pleasure rather than egage the enchanting lady of topic.

"I would imagine she has to. That is her job as much as it is mine to destroy them." The tone was matter-of-fact, though he had to admit his dealings with immortals had been minimal. He had enough keeping him busy scooping out the hollowed shells of mortals.

"Destroy them?" He said it as if questioning this though they both were aware of the truth in Deacon's statement. "hmm.. well.." He appeared to be pondering for a moment. "See, you two will likely cross paths alot.. you destroying..., her trying to fix it.."

"Really?" He hummed, pondering that a little deeper. The meeting wasn't unpleasant the first time, but he was on business. Had he not been... "I'd say we'll keep each other in business a long while then, won't we?"

[Lovely]

"It appears you will, best to have a friendly working relationship with that one." He agreed and added some wise advise for the younger man to listen and heed. "Much as we exist to serve a purpose so does she." Their purpose was different but that did not automatically make them enemies.

"Oh I was quite friendly," he said in his defense. "You'd have been sickened and mystified, no doubt. She is charming and I can see why the humans go for her sort of tactic."

He wondered every now and then where the boy got all his ideas about him. "Yes because they crave her like a drug, though they hardly realize it.." He sneered a bit at the way mortals were not sensitive to what was around them all the time. "You get the pleasure of sharing her company.. most have no idea -she- is even with them while she's there."

"How could they not? You said yourself... She's," his hands motioned out her endowments like Venge often described his favorites, and smiled. "Hott. She is and she has some notion that I need her or called her. Why's that?"

"She's like us.. outside the bounds of human concepts, her human form like ours is only seen when truly needed or desired to be.. " He explained with a motion of his hand toward the solid form he was, currently.

"Truly?" Deacon scoffed and took up his glass, chuckling into it as he sipped. "Then I must like her company."

"Yes." He replied over his shoulder as he moved about the room looking at various vials. "Nothing wrong with it you know.. timeless beings do need company now and then.. keeps us from getting too bored when we are entangled in tedious tasks or callings."

"What about you?" He leaned back and rested a foot up on the table. "You don't seem to hinder yourself with groupies that I've seen."

"I don't have those needs... not quite the same or as often as others. That is the nature of what I am." He gave a small smile and plucked a small glowing vial from the seeming random array. "There was your mother.. or have you forgotten her?"

"She's a will-o-the-wisp as far as my memory is concerned. Sorry, but I don't really. Something about what I am... I think I got that from you - some ability to let the past stay the past." He looked over the map on Morte's table and reached for his glass again, taking a thoughtful sip. Suppose the man wasn't joking and really knew her? It challenged a lot of what he remembered or thought... and had duly forgotten in time, himself. "Like most of them should."

"She was an exceptional woman." He said quietly and put the vial back in place, bringing an empty one with him to the table. "The flaw of being born mortal.. their days are numbered and they are granted so few in the grand scheme of things."

"Unless you break the rules," he muttered the reminder carefully. "It's only when we visit that... who's that one for?"

"That.. what? Please go on.." He motioned for Deacon to continue with his thought as he leaned over the table with an intent gaze. His boney finger reached to topple a tiny piece over, indicating that one's time was almost up.

"It's only when we visit that their clock stops. But then, not until we open that vial," he said with a slight shake of his head. "Have you ever wondered what would happen if you changed your mind... just once?"

He stilled for a moment and then slowly leaned back, a dark fire to his gaze. "Who says I haven't?" He half smirked and kept his gaze directly on Deacon.

He was hardly cowering, mostly curious. His grin pulled down into more questions as he straightened himself. "So... what happened? Human never-ending? A toy to watch? Or does he or she... or they... even know? You know those who boast cheating you, as if they ever could," he chuckled.

"They knew.. it wasn't never ending, more of an extension." He chuckled at the comments of cheating death and kept his gaze on 'the boy'. "You happened."

"Truly?" He chuckled, repeating himself and wondering if the man was toying with him now. "Why? Not ungrateful, but curious none-the-less. Want a glass?" Deacon offered some of the bottle he had left. "Must be her fine taste for wine," he sighed out, fully enjoying the 'human' treat.

"Truly." He spoke quietly and then nodded to the offer of the wine. "I suppose a taste is in order." Morte pulled his hand in front of him watching it turn from flesh to bone and back again with an almost bored expression. "Why? Why not?"

[Lovely]

"Alright. That's fair. So, did you keep her here in your collection?" He poured the glass and handed it to the skeletal fingers of his father.

He took the glass and then lifed it silently in toast to the soul they discussed. "Of course I kept her.. what else would I do with her?"

He raised an eyebrow as he lifted his glass, reminding the man quietly again of beings he'd spoken of, warned of. There were creatures who collected as he did, but their intentions were quite different. "Tate?" He mentioned the champion rebirther who'd beaten him a few times to a prized soul or two. "She was gone long before the night the Powers shuffled everything around. I haven't ever met him or seen his work. I just wondered... if she was rebirthed... if she may be out there somewhere, that's all."

He paused and looked as if he might say something but just smiled instead and sipped at his wine. The boy was too much like him, thinking or perhaps plucking thoughts from his mind.

He slipped his foot gracefully from the table and nudged the codger's knee. "Stop. What are you grinning at now? You're not saying. Tell me."

"Why? This is so much more amusing." He chuckled as Deacon nudged his knee. "Use your imagination.. you know I believe you got that from her."

"It's not healthy for me to use that. I can only carry so many vials in a night, hm?" His gaze was sharp. "I probably did get that from her, but I'm not patient enough to come up with a convincing story that won't be right anyhow. You did, didn't you... let her rebirth? Is she human now?"

"I thought your imagination wouldn't come up with the correct idea?" He chuckled, looking over at the boy, a certain affection in his gaze that was only seen now and then.

"Correct idea? So you're thinking about it then?" He raised his glass in similar toast, swigged a healthy, cleansing mouthful and set the glass aside. Deacon clasped his hands and leaned forward. "So, it wasn't me. It was everything to do with you. You give her to someone new... she won't know you from anyone else, would she? But... someone with a friendly rapport with the Hott Love Goddess... might be able to get her to come your way, wouldn't they?"

He laughed, heartily now and shook his head. "Give yourself more credit.. if I wanted the aide of Love, I would simply ask her for it.. I'm not so incompetent."

"Zing, ouch... pops..," he sneered. "So what is it then? You send mom back down to have a new life on the town... and then what?"

"..and then you use your imagination." He replied with a slight smirk as he sipped at the wine some more, watching the boy with some amusement.

"You can't mean being as sick as I think. You better mean I'm babysitting the glass menagerie while you paint the town red with her yourself."

"Why are you so concerned with what I'll be doing.. hmm?" He countered softly, still amused and poking at Deacon as much as the boy was him.

"Because that imagination I'm so graced with has Oedipus written all over it. I didn't mean I wanted to get to know her... like -know- her. I just meant, I don't remember her. What are you up to and what do I have to do with it?"

"You assume you have anything to do with it.. you're simply what happened last time I painted the town red with her." He winked at the boy, teasing him a bit.

"Alright, then back to my other question. If you're making yourself a toy doll, and possibly a fleet of siblings for me to keep watch over before you're through... as much as that actually scares me, I find it amusing... then what does Love mean that I have a desire or a need? What does she know... who does she know that I don't?"

He laughed and shrugged, motioning with his empty hand that he had no answers for him. "I suppose perhaps you should ask yourself that question.. maybe it's.. her company. She wasn't boring was she?"

"Less dull than humans with their selfish woes and pandering cries," he nodded, considering his glass and needing to refill it. He poured the last of the bottle. "But, I suppose, having been at least in some part human, I can't really complain about that. She was, dare I say, delightful, but shouldn't she be?"

"I don't know.. should she. I knew her parents.. boring.. dull.. vain.. I hated getting seated with them at gatherings, but someone apparently thought it was amusing."

Deacon's expression faded to a distance as he looked over the map. There were not many he got to know personally and those he did, he didn't know long, toppled and taken shortly after his arrival. It was just the nature of what he was, as long as he played by the rules. He sat back, staring into his glass a long moment in silence.

"Now you're thinking.. share these thoughts with me?" Morte asked him, watching him stare into his glass in silence.

"There are no coincidences. Things are as they are," he whispered, still confused why his companionship would be considered with the knowledge of what he was. Unless... "Unless it doesn't matter what I am."

[Lovely]

"What do you mean? doesn't matter what you are?" He was lost a moment in the shift of the conversation and tipped his head to regard the boy, wondering more at the thoughts running through his head.

"Friends, Morte. Something that's dangerous to become around us, don't you think?"

"Why?" He cocked his eyebrow and regarded Deacon. "We are what we are.. that doesn't change, but why does that exclude us from having friends?"

"I didn’t say we coulnd’t have them, just that for them, it’s dangerous. We appear when someone’s suppose to be taken away - makes it a little hard to have fun, though you managed it. I just wonder how."

"Alright. You have a point, mortal friends and companions don't last very long.. but others? There are plenty of immortals and beings who live much longer.. nothing is stopping you from seeking and enjoying their company."

"I happen to find mortals... human mortals... intriguing. Intriguing enough to avoid them at all costs unless I’m on a hunt," he said, needing the sip of his wine to feel real for a moment. "I have little reason to encounter the immortal ones, do I? Not a lot of purpose there, being a conflict I suppose - an Immortal versus a soul collector that might rot of old age waiting for their time to come, hm?" He chuckled a little at the irony.

"So you're a picky finicky little b*tch and you'll end up very old and alone like myself." He lifted the last swallow of his glass to his son. "Cheers."

He laughed and matched the toast, taking the last drop of his own. "That’s why you’re thinking of making her come back? Sure, that makes sense."

"You assume I'm still thinking.." He grinned a little and then sighed softly. "I spent hundreds maybe thousands of lifetimes alone here before I met your mother.. before you came, before Venge and most recently Raven.. It never bothered me.. I never had a soul of my own. Do I enjoy the company I have now? yes. But there is a reason none of you are mortal.. You'd be gone in a blink for me if you were. I don't wish for you to be gone that quickly."

"You’re not thinking? Then doing, or decided against it?" Again he was curious.

Again he chuckled and looked to his empty glass, setting it aside gingerly and folding his hands into his lap. "It could be done already.. "

Deacon watched him, not voicing his other questions yet. A figure had been toppled and was in need of collection. "That is as it may be, but my work waits," he sighed, grabbing the empty vial to slip in his pocket. "Maybe I’ll meet her on my way home?"

"I hope so.. you're so much more interesting since you met her last." He of course meant the 'love' minx and perhaps not who Deacon had meant.

More questions clambored, but he kept them quiet. "Apparently, I’m -needy- now," he joked. Maybe he was, but simply didn’t know it enough to understand the strangeness of such a desire.

Morte chuckled and watched him as he prepared to take his leave, a certain spark in his usually cold eyes.

The vial was tucked discretely from view and he smoothed down his jacket. "Definitely in need of more wine," he muttered, looking over the map again for his destination and spying the sadly empty container. "Back soon."