originaljackass | Ch. 8 - The Death and Return of Jack of Fables

[The moment Jack woke up, somewhere out in the woods, his eyes shot open and he reached for his chest, expecting to find a sword sticking out of it. But there wasn't one. More than that, he could see that his fingers... well, he had fingers. No claws. He felt his face and the familiar stubble was there, as was his long hair, and he quickly determined he had a chest and a feet and his Happy Stick is there and not... scaly.

Whew. Load off his mind. It also proves that people really DO revive in Luceti. But he also knows that people LOSE things when they die. The first thing he does is find something sharp enough to cut himself on. He's pleased to see it quickly heal up, nearly instantly, as if the wound had never been there at all. He then finds a boulder and throws it, proving he is indeed super strong still. So he had his looks and power again... but what about his loot? He'd have to go back to the cave later and see if those bastards that killed him hadn't stolen it all.

... thought he wasn't sure if he should bother. Last thing he wanted to do was risk dragon-ing it up again.

So he takes a long, lonely hike to the village and returns home. He grabs a nice button up shirt, a black sports coat and slacks to toss on. So he'd died twice now. Neither time took. And he was looking as good as ever. Now just as long as he didn't turn into a dragon again, he was A-OK.

So the first thing he does is go to the journals.]

[Voice]

Looks like I'm back to the land of the living and I ain't a dragon anymore. How is it that death is the cure for so many afflictions? First order of business - any women out there wanting a roll in the hay? It's been months since I had any. We can make it as romantic as you like, suits me just fine.

Oh. Guess I owe an apology towards certain individuals for any injuries I may have caused during that scuffle. But in my defense? You guys killed me. So don't expect me to feel too guilty about that.

Thirdly... thirdly... I need some cigarettes and a beer. And some painkillers. I also think I've got on hell of a case of phantom limb going here after losing those extra wings... and the tail.

Oh yeah, anyone seen a tiny blue cow running around? I lost track of the thing a few weeks ago.

[Yeah, screw the journal, he's going to the bar to smoke and drink. If he can't have some sex, this will just have to do.]

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[ and guess who makes this face when he walks into the bar? ]

[He just died, woman. Looks like that don't even faze him. He'll grab a stool, the one right in front of her, and flash a smirk.]

Hey there, pumpkin. How about a Budweiser?

[ wordlessly, she cracks open a icy beer and passes it over to him.

and she stares a bit more. she's always curious and interested in those who come back from the dead, but doesn't know how to broach the topic with horner of all people. ]

Don't call me pumpkin.

[He ignores that, being too interested in the beer. He takes one loooong hard drink of it and slams the glass back down, nearly halfway empty.]

Good god did I need one of those. Holy shit, that's good. [He stares at the glass a little longer, before going for another, smaller sip. There's nothing like a cold one after two months of being a dragon and dying. Speaking of which.]

You catch my message earlier? About the dying thing?

I did. I did catch it.

[ she wipes down a further section of the bar. ] Sorry to hear about that.

Don't be.

[He sets his elbow on the bar and holds up his hand in front of him, then wiggles his fingers.]

See? Fingers. I died, came back, and I've got fingers again. Not a bad deal, if you ask me.

[ admittedly, having fingers again sounds like a blessing.

however: ] But you've gone and paid some other price. I know how it works. I've watched it go down before.

Sure, I know how it works. [He pulls his hand back to bring it around his glass.] But I can get it fixed, once I figure out whatever the hell it is.

[ wary: ] You don't already know?

I checked all the predictable things. Seems all the important stuff is in tact. You can lose memories, right?

[ a stiff nod. ] I know someone who...yeah, you can lose memories. You can lose lots of memories, sometimes.

Nothing to worry about, then. If I lose a few decades of memories, I think I'll manage. Got way more where those come from. [Another drink at that. The benefit of immortality.]

You not, y'know, worried that there might be something important in a few of those decades?

[He considers this. Then shrugs.]

Guess I'll find out. Refill?

[ she pops open another bottle and promptly hands it over. ]

You seem pretty chill with this whole death thing.

Death kind of loses its luster after the first time. [He starts to fill his glass again.] And this last time sure as hell beat the first one in just about every single way.

...I'd drink to that, except for the part where I don't drink. Someone took you out?

Right through the chest. [He's thoughtful for a bit.]

That's happened before, incidentally. Didn't kill me that time.

...So the invincibility thing didn't extend to being a dragon. That makes sense.

[ mostly 'cause she's actually seen that before, with the mayor. totally impervious to harm until he ascended into a giant snake. then? mortal all the way. ]

Actually, that one time, it didn't even hurt. It was uhh... a stupid series of events. [Though now he's wondering why the hell he wasn't healing during that battle. Maybe because his fame is as Jack the Human, not Jack the Dragon?]

...Colour me not-surprised.

I was the stone.

...The stone?

Yeah. Like the Sword in the Stone. Ever heard of it?

Sure. I kinda lived my own version only with a scythe and -- seriously? I mean...I get the whole you being this Jack or that Jack but...the stone? As in King Arthur?

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Ch. 8 - The Death and Return of Jack of Fables

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