Bartholomew & Alicia
Location: Oak Tree -> Main House (Second Story)
Skills:
Alicia: Empathy, Psychology
Location: Tree -> Room 207
Skills:
Bartholomew: None
Bartholomew tumbled to the ground, still in shock from his death. A yell escaped from his lips, before he realized not only was he not in any kind of pain, grass was beneath him, not concrete. He opened his eyes, and snapped his head up towards the voice that addressed him. Confusion struck him, nothing making any kind of sense. He should be dead, or otherwise totally crippled. He quickly rested a hand on his face, and ran it down, feeling for any kind of residual damage from the accident, but not finding anything. "
I'm... fine?" He said, awestruck.
Crossing her arms and tucking the clipboard at her side, Alicia simply nodded with a small smile on her lips. She could understand the reaction. She nearly said the same thing when she arrived after the death she had had, which was nearly as horrific as his read, but she was much more colorful in her vocabulary choices.
Then was the matter of what she said, telling him the accident definitely actually happened. That let him piece it all together, and his eyes widened as he did."
No... I..." He choked out. The only reasonable conclusion was that he was dead. He took a shaky breath, and gave a concerned look to the girl in front of him, not bothering to stand up. "
So... which one was right?" He asked helplessly, referring to the religions of the world. "
Please don't tell me it was the Christians, I don't wanna go to hell." He almost whimpered out.
Laughing slightly she squatted down next to him and shrugged.
"No fucking clue. You were stopped before you could find out. Welcome to Ville au Camp, I'm Alicia and..." she said and stopped for a second as she pondered. Could she really call him a bitch? Why not, girls got called dudes all the time and he did have a pretty head of hair.
"Bitch, you're dead." She actually felt a bit proud of herself she wasn't letting this break her streak. Granted, she hadn't with James but that was James. That was someone she knew.
Bart cocked his head at her. He was stopped before he got to... the afterlife? But he was still dead. "
Bartholomew, and well... I put that much together." He said, his voice steadying as he slowly pushed himself off the ground, keeping his eyes on her. "
No surviving what happened to me, but none of this really makes any sense." He bit the inside of this lip, and took a glance around his surroundings, taking it all in. "
How is this possible? Does this mean I'm some kind of soul? My body's gone, right? Or is this my same body from before, just restored?" He launched into questions, breaking his gaze away from her, peering over his new clothes that he'd finally noticed. He glanced over the watch, which he noted to be rather high quality. As he did, he kept on pushing with questions "
Or is this just temporary?" He pondered, speaking more to himself than Alicia at this point, but still periodically glancing back at her. "
Like a purgatory?" He was relatively familiar with religious texts, and plenty had some kind of limbo, so that could make sense. "
And then the biggest question... Why me? Does this happen to everyone, or am I something special?" His eyes lighting up a bit with that last question.
Alicia cocked a brow slightly, this kid seemed to be rambling. Maybe that was just his way with dealing with the shock, maybe he was just a motor mouth. Lady Lucas didn't really give her any word on who she was bringing back, what they would be like, or even why. The names appeared, where they were coming from, how they died, and a few other things. Nothing really substantial in the greater scheme. Clearing her throat she half tapped the clipboard under her arm and really wished she had some gum right then. It would have been the perfect time to pop a bubble.
"Take a breath gringo. Gonna go down those real fast. No idea how it's possible, The Dice really doesn't talk about the logistics and explain how she does shit. You aren't a soul, you are living and breathing. This isn't exactly living again but it isn't limbo. It is Louisiana, 1943. Wrap your head around that. It isn't permanent and you can die again. You can't go back to where you were, ever. Nothing religious going on here. And as far as being special, well Eve chose you to live after she caused you to die but you ain't no Jesus so don't grow a Messiah complex or you gonna probably just gonna get all types of trouble," she said before motioning towards the house.
"Come on Bart, I'll show you your room and you can then go meet the others," she added with a chuckle. Oh James was going to have fun with this one. They both would probably chew her ears off asking questions. Alicia wasn't the inquisitive type, she was actually a person of faith so she took things at face value and never really bothered to ask how any of it was possible. To her that would be like asking which God was the right God and why the world was born with assholes. It was better just to roll with it, rollability!
Bart's head spun with those answers, completely thrown for a loop. All he was being told went against everything he'd not only believed most of his life, but was almost diametrically opposed to the fundamentals of his understanding of the world. Because of this, while he heard a lot of what Alicia said, he didn't really internalize it. To him, it simply wasn't possible, how in the world could dying have put him in 1943, thousands of miles away?. He didn't have much else to go off of at this point though, so he decided to roll with it.
One thing really didn't sit well with him though, and as he followed, he cleared his throat, and uncomfortably said , "
That last thing... this Eve, she caused my death? What do you mean by that?" That just seemed to be nonsense, nobody could have caused that, there were too many variables. This woman sounded crazy, and at this point, it almost seemed more likely that his death was some kind of mind control or fever dream or almost anything else than the things that were being said to him. Maybe that means this Eve somehow orchestrated him believing he was dead. After all, he felt totally alive right now. "
You get that what you're saying is borderline insane, right?"
"Says the man that was just gutted by a fire hydrant in the middle of Justice and is walking around talking as if he's been out picking daisies all day," Alicia quipped as she walked passed Sophia and James as they were coming out but ignored them for now other than a head nod in their general direction. It wasn't the time to split up the conversation. Heading up the stairs she glanced back over her shoulder towards Bart.
"Those two are from an entirely different time line than you, fucking nasty one too," she added before putting her attention back to the stairs that led to the room assignment board.
"First thing you need to learn about here is that a lot is possible. Like Eve causing your death. She didn't chose to cause it, she just does. It's her thing, Emendators are like that. She's The Dice, she makes shit happen randomly and from what I read your death is about as random as they get. Granted you probably would have died from food poisoning. Who the fuck eats from a Sushi Cart in the Deadlight District? Oh well, least the cat wasn't hit," she added as she ran her finger over the chart to find Barts name.
Bart involuntarily flinched for a moment at the mention of just how he died, but nodded. "
Okay okay, you have a point there, nothing's really making sense today." He conceded, and raised his eyes in surprise at the mention of alternate time lines, but latched on more to the mention of the Emendators, and said, "
So she can just... make things happen? I think I may be in a little over my head here..."
"More like she is Lady Luck and when someone hits snake eyes, death makes a visit," Alicia said and then chuckled a bit.
"Funny Lady Lucas is ever the lady." Bart had to meet this Eve at some point and find out exactly how she worked. It sounded incredibly interesting, and something he was excited to explore. He did perk up at the mention of his cat though, "
Lucky is okay then?" He asked, genuinely happy to hear that.
"Yup, cats just fine. Cats tend to be survivors even if their owners aren't," the Mexican woman quipped as she got the number for their newest additions room.
"
I really wish I could've had more time with him." He noticed that she seemed to know Justice pretty well, and decided to ask, "
So... you've been to Justice I take it?" This girl seemed to know a lot about here, and getting to know her would probably be good for him. "
I had just moved in... I really didn't know too much about the city." He explained.
"Fuck, lived there, worked there, was murdered there," she said as she made her way up the short stairs to the gallery that connected where they were to the closest wing of the house. It went over the passage below that connected to Sophias room a floor below.
"Okay this my room, yours is right next store," she said as she started to head that way but then felt the clipboard jostle some. Glancing down she grumbled a bit before looking back at Bart.
"Shit, new comer about to arrive. Okay, that is your room, 207. Should be set up for you. Gilbert does a pretty good job of setting new folk up. Make yourself at home. Bathroom is around there, over the front upper porch and on the other side. Kitchen house is out back on the other side of the oak tree, library and study is downstairs, keys in the lock," she said before turning and starting to walk off. Last thing she needed was to let someone arrive with no one to welcome them.
Bart waved goodbye as she quickly walked off, and turned his attention to the door. He didn't know much off the top of his head about 1940's plumbing and architecture, so a part of him wondered if they'd have hot running water. Things like that really did concern him, the past was missing a lot of things, like T.V, or the internet, which always made it kind of suck in his eyes. The future just seemed to , as a rule of thumb, be better than the past. He shrugged, and took the key, resting his hand on the knob to open the door.
"
Ow ow ow ow shit fuck." Were the words that immediately slipped from his lips as Bart ripped his hand back to his chest. The second he had tried to open the door, a mild electric shock coursed through his hand. He frowned at the door, and slipped his key into his pocket. He looked up and down at the door, unable to figure out what was causing it. He gave an irritated sigh, and lightly poked the handle again, only to still find it shocking him. He squinted his eyes together, and rolled up his sleeves over his hands, trying to fiddle with it and open it without actually touching it and shocking himself. After a few moments, he managed to twist it, and pushed his way into the room, stumbling a little on his way through.
Once he finally made his way into his new room, his eyes rested on the bed in front of him. There was a messenger bag resting on it, and normally he'd rush to open it up, but at this point, he was mentally exhausted. Between dying, coming back to "life", his entire world being turned on it's head, and now him having to put up with his door electrocuting him, he was fresh out of fucks to give. He staggered towards the bed, not even bothering to close the door, and collapsed on the mattress, shutting his eyes tightly. Now that he was alone, all of his feelings were starting to crash over him. Tears welled out of his eyes, lightly staining the pillow his face was resting on. He was dead, and just... as bad as it could have been, there was no way he could go back. He'd never said goodbye to anybody, and the people who cared about him wouldn't hear of his death from quite some time. He had no real idea why he was here, and he just felt lost, and alone, and honestly scared. He pushed the bag off the bed, and curled up into himself.
