eachdraidh | video;

[ There are two brown puppies eating a Christmas pudding off the floor when the camera activates, little tails wagging as they trip over paws that they have yet to grow into. Their muzzles are oddly long even now, but they're not quite as bulky as they will be -- not yet.

A quiet chuckle from behind the locket reveals, to those who may have heard it, the surprising owner of the pups -- the Outsider. The smaller of the pups looks up from the pudding at the sound and scampers over, whining and pawing at his legs until the Outsider bends down to scoop the little one up. The locket, which is floating in midair via magic, is pushed back -- just in time for any viewers to watch as the pup attempts to burrow into the Outsider's shirt. ]

You are unlike others of your kind, little one, [ the god murmurs, smoothing a hand over floppy brown ears. The other pup is still eating the pudding, though at this point it looks more like she's getting in a fight with it. ]

In my world, Wolfhounds are kept and trained by Overseers of the Abbey to hunt heretics. That I should now have a pair myself is rather ironic and more than a little amusing. But then, they are terribly intelligent creatures.

[ The small pup licks at his chin and he starts, blinking. The locket turns off just as his mouth twists up until a slight smile. ]

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[He can follow. It's easy enough.]

They have the means to kill you?

They can disrupt magic. To kill me is rather difficult, but I am not the first god chosen by the Void and I may not be the last.

[Well that's interesting.]

You weren't always a god.

No. Though it has been a very long time.

[ Like... four thousand years. ]

Do you remember it? Being... chosen?

Yes. Though it is not something easily explained.

[ because the Void is weird ]

Okay.

[He... does want to know more, but he's not sure how to ask.]

Why not?

[Well that's one way.]

The Void is a realm of magic, dreams -- it is what began the world and what will end it. Things there are not as they are in this world, or my world, or -- I suspect -- your world.

[That's... interesting, but also... kind of beautiful.]

Oh.

[ poet!assassin ]

I look at things differently, now -- differently than I once did. I am not the same as I once was, and so my memory of the change is colored even by that.

[ It sounds almost like an apology, wrapped up in an explanation. ]

[He lets out a sigh.]

Memories are easily changed.

[He knows that very well.]

Yes, [ he agrees, inclining his head. ] Though that is true without external influences.

[He nods. That's true enough, even if his experiences are entirely with... external influences.]

Yes.

The mind is a fragile thing.

[ Really, good job on you for being coherent after being brainwashed, Bucky. ]

Strange, how few realize it.

[He huffs.]

Enough people do.

[Enough to take his apart piece by piece to put it back together how they wanted.]

They remember it for others, maybe. But for themselves?

People do not like to think of themselves as fragile.

[Oh. Oh that is very true.]

...yes.

[ ... then he realizes there haven't been any introductions. ]

They call me the Outsider, in my world.

[Oh. They did forget that part.]

James. Or Bucky. Whichever.

[They're both technically his, even if he's still getting used to them.]

[ social skills??? what are ]

You have been a most refreshing conversational partner, James.

I have?

[Well that's... new.]

...thank you.

[ Direct. Calm. Not horribly upset about things like magic or gods or killing people. It's all very nice. ]

You are quite welcome.

[...he still doesn't know how to end a conversation, though.]

Does that mean we're done talking now?

That depends on if you would like to talk more.

[He thinks about this, then shrugs with his one shoulder.]

I'm not sure.

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