OPEN;

[wandbreaker]

When; Saturday, January 28th, nighttime
Characters; All are welcome! Open log, just specify if it's an open thread or not or if there are 4th wall rules for your character in the comment or subject line! (4th wallers also welcome~)
Summary; The Blue Light's one chilling hangout; good music, good food, and a spectacularly crabby owner who is even letting in under-18s for the 4th Wall weekend.
Log;

Edmund is actually at work tonight - he hopes a member of his family might show up, but he's also wondering who else might show up. He's made sure that he's well staffed for the extra crowds and well stocked, no less.

He just hopes nothing gets out of control.

And of course, that a member of his family shows up, looking for him.

Comments

[practicingforhell]

So you're a concept. Nice.

[See, thinking you're crazy and subsequently going crazy by thinking so has its perks.]

Poetry? Sure, I read him. More into art, though.

[and_identity]

I usually go with personification, but you've got the right idea.

[It's cute, really.]

"The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life? / Answer. / That you are here—that life exists, and identity..."

He was a sweet guy, Whitman. They said he was the great American poet everyone had been waiting for.

[practicingforhell]

You're the personification of life? Shoulda figured that one out quicker. Can't say I'd've looked for Life at the bar.

I might hafta give Whitman another chance. You make him sound good.

[and_identity]

That's me. I'm also always the most popular person at a party, but I like to pretend that's more to do with who I am and less with what I am.

I have a thing for poets. But I guess that's only natural when you figure a lot of them loved me a whole lot.

[practicingforhell]

Who you are's gotta be at least half of it.

[Because seriously, be more adorable.]

What, no love for the artists? Plenty of artists love you too. [beat] Even the ones who... y'know. [See icon.]

[and_identity]

Oh, I know. Trust me, just because I'm inclined to hang out with the poets doesn't mean I favor them over everyone else. It takes all kinds, you know? It's more than just the right-brain people, too. There are bankers who love me, and show it by being honest and fair and good at their jobs. Poets write for me. Dancers leap and cavort to express it. Artists paint, musicians compose, scholars ponder, historians remember. And the scientists, they'll try everything they can think of to get to know me and learn all my secrets. It's endearing, really.

You're a little tangled up with me and the person I'm waiting for, though, aren't you?

[practicingforhell]

Bankers? Lawyers and weathermen and shrinks too, probably. [Those are the worst. People. Ever.] Glad we don't piss you off with all the attention.

Depends on who you're waiting for.

[and_identity]

They exist. They're mine. Whether you like them or don't, respect them or not, they all serve a purpose in the grand scheme of things. I don't play favorites with the professions. Just with the people.

I'll give you a hint: it's not Godot.

[practicingforhell]

I didn't know Life could play favorites.

[He almost smiles. He knows his plays better than his poetry.]

Death?

[and_identity]

I'm a bitch to pretty much everybody. But I try to make sure good people get something back every once in a while.

Bingo. He's much better with time than I am, but that doesn't stop him from being late.

[practicingforhell]

That's sweet of you. [Even if, Life, it seems that you're okay with being nice to complete bastards, provided they give you beer.]

So does he show up late or was that just a pun?

[and_identity]

[And what she wouldn't give for a nice well-done steak to go with that beer, too, except that she's a forced vegetarian by nature. Dead things don't stay dead for long when they come into contact with her.]

Oh, no, he shows up late. Always knows exactly what time it is--it comes with the Death thing, knowing the hour, minute, and second of someone's demise?--but he's flighty. Knowing him, he's probably hassling some innocent kid asking directions to this place because he was too much of an idiot to jot down the address.

[practicingforhell]

[The correct response to this information about Death is an incredulous, "No shit?" There's no swearing in front of ladies, however, and Life might not be a lady but she certainly looks like one.]

Always figured Death knew where he was going. How's he know who to off if he can't find them?

[and_identity]

[Polite, Henry, but wholly unnecessary. Life at her finest has a mouth that would put sailors to shame.]

It's different when he's on the clock. At the moment, we're on vacation.

[practicingforhell]

[That would be something to hear.]

So, what? No one gets born and no one dies?

[and_identity]

[Ask her about fundamentalists and just watch the obscenity fly.]

No, it's a little more complex than that, but I'll try to make it as user-friendly as I can. He and I, we're personifications of the concept, like you were saying earlier. Life exists, and I'm Life. It's a big-L, little-L distinction, sort of. I'm Life, big-L, and I exist, and so long as I do, life with a little-L does too. Same idea with Death, but with the big and little Ds.

In our capacity as the personifications of the concept, we've got all the powers of our respective concepts at our disposal, but just by existing ourselves, we facilitate their existence in the cosmos. It's...sort of like autopilot, but sort of not. What we do, think of it like breathing. You can control it if you consciously think about it--that's us--but you don't have to think about it for it to happen. That's what's going on right now, while we're on vacation. We're letting them sort of run on autopilot while we're away.

[practicingforhell]

That's gotta make sh-- ...your jobs easier. Why not just stay on vacation?

[and_identity]

It does in some ways, but in others it's a huge pain in the ass.

[She takes a swig of beer, then sets down the bottle a little too hard.]

Because we know what happens if we try. Me by example, Death firsthand. He tried it once, after the motherfuckers who run eternity set him up on the cosmos's worst assignment ever as punishment for too much slacking--which actually had nothing to do with the slacking and everything to do with the fact that they're a pack of gutter-swilling scumbags who've had it out for him since before time existed--and long story short, it got to the point where the pompous bastards were ready to unmake the universe and everything in it if we didn't behave. That's the trouble with the dickweasels who trump us in the hierarchy of the cosmos--the only real weapon they've got against us is the nuclear option, since it's pretty hard to exercise limitless power over all creation in a vacuum where creation doesn't exist.

[She pauses, and then resumes in her usual gentle voice.]

Basically, we have our jobs to do, too. We get vacation time, but we don't get permanent hiatus. It's a balancing act.

[practicingforhell]

Wow.

[He doesn't make it clear if this 'wow' is in response to the consequences of having Life and Death take an extended vacation or Life's delightful vulgarity. It's probably the latter.]

That sucks. [He retrieves a pack of cigarettes from another pocket. Pockets are infinitely handy when traveling between life and death, little 'r' and little 'd.'] You smoke? Or mind if I do?

[and_identity]

[She just smiles.]

That's a bad habit, kiddo. It'll kill you, y'know.

Do pardon my inability to tell the difference between the letters L and R...

[practicingforhell]

I'll take my chances.

[But he doesn't light his cigarette.]

It's all good. o/

[and_identity]

It's not like I couldn't fix any of the damage you did to your lungs, you know, if you did light up. On the other hand, I'm the cynical one, and you kids have free will for a reason. If you want to kill yourselves in all the fun and creative ways your little heads keep persisting in dreaming up, I'm not generally inclined to stop you.

[practicingforhell]

Think it's too late for me to worry about dying from lung cancer, but thanks.

Does it bother you when we use all that free will and creativity to fuck ourselves up?

[and_identity]

If rationalizing it that way makes you happy, then go for it. Sometimes it's just a matter of principle, though.

Sure it does. You think I like watching you do that shit to yourselves? You're like the definition of "why we can't have nice things". We hand you a diamond and we're not even a quarter of the way through telling you how special it is before you've gone and shoved it up your nose. But like I said, it takes all kinds. And for the ones who really fuck it up, there's natural selection.

[practicingforhell]

[Suddenly, getting that nicotine fix doesn't sound so appealing.]

Sorry. I'll try to take better care of that diamond next time.