originaljackass | Ch. 14 - Life is hunky dory when your name is Jack of Fables

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Ch. 14 - Life is hunky dory when your name is Jack of Fables

[When Jack's memories returned to normal, he found himself sad only to discover his briefcase was empty. And then when he realized that, he rushed to a mirror and was relieved to find out he was still his incredibly handsome and athletic self. He wouldn't be swelling up to a dragon this time. He didn't know why he had been spared that fate this time, but he took it to be a personal victory. Smugly, he smiled at himself, reminded himself of how awesome he was, and was back to his old self again.

And so from every day since Luceti returned to normal, Jack has served more than his normal shifts at the bar. With Buffy still missing and not all of the staff at their best, he was filling in for them. After all, an experiment like that was going to result in a lot of people needing a good stiff drink. He was only pleased to oblige them. After all, Luceti had no form of therapy other than what could be found at the bottom of a glass at Good Spirits.

Today, however, he felt inclined to talk about the experience. Calmly and rationally.]

[Voice]

So that was a hell of a thing. How many of you guys remember the first one? I swear, this place gets loopier each and every day. The fighting at the end was new. Last time around it didn't get so bloody. Well, it did for me. I turned into a dragon and then had a bunch of psycho, devil-associating lesbians hunt me down to kill me. I think we can all agree that a few crazy vulture-winged assholes isn't as bad as it could be. Especially seeing as killing them is easier than shooting fowl in Duck Hunt.

And for those of you still pouting, come on down to Good Spirits. First drink's on the house.

[Jack will be around that evening to serve drinks and be his usual self. At least until he goes heading home that night. The droids get the jump on him and it's off to experimentation land for him!]

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...Huh. I've only ever seen a dragon here.

[She considers it a bit, sipping at the drink, getting used to the taste.]

I went to school away from my family. Lived at the school and only saw them maybe a couple weekends a month. So it was... kind of nice? going home to a family every day. During that whole thing.

Weird, looking back on it. But not bad.

I've been married a few times. I never had kids, though. Well, you know, never any kids I knew about. Of all the bastards to come and find me, the one that managed it just had to be a demigod with the power of winter on his side. [Fucking Jack Frost. That asshole.]

Never been a family man, though. I ditched my mom when I was ten to go become a professional giant killer. Which is just as well. The bitch wasn't even my real mom. You think she could've told me that beforehand, right?

That sounds really complicated.

[She's still sorting through all of that a second or third time in her head to get it straight.]

Those of us who go to the Academy start when we're five. The ones who don't get kicked out usually say until they're nineteen.

Yeah, well I killed a guy when I was three.

[No. He didn't. But now he just feels competitive, dammit.]

Really? How?

[Wrong reaction, Clove. Especially since it's not a challenge. It's an interest.]

[... shit.]

I pinned him in a corner, right? And then I stuck in my thumb and pulled out his eye.

[... and said 'what a good boy am I?']

...Huh.

[A little strange, but not impossible, she figures. If he left at ten to kill a giant. So, well. She doesn't doubt him.]

Yeah. I was basically a bad ass. True story.

[Badass. That's a term she's heard in Luceti before.]

Sounds like it. You'd've done great in my world, probably.

Clover, I'd do great on any world.

[Because he's Jack Fucking Horner.]

[Clove has to smile, even laugh a little.]

Yeah, it sounds like it.

[And... that's not sarcasm. She is actually sincere.]

[Ah. This is nice. Someone who just appreciates the fact that he's awesome and doesn't feel the need to tell him how he's a terrible person. If he has any regrets about this whole familial thing now, it's that he won't be able to get over all the awkward of eww family in five years when she's old enough that he'd actually be interested in her.

Being immortal was a pain.]

So, how's the drink?

It's really good. Different, but I like it.

[Which is why she's still making slow progress on it, taking a few sips when he speaks.

It's nice, really, to hear someone talk about killing so lightly. It makes her feel like maybe she isn't as strange as other people around here would like her to think. That maybe there isn't anything wrong with her.]

Well, play your cards right and it'll be the first of many.

[An empty offer, naturally. Drinks are free and she didn't have to do anything to get them. But there was a friendly sentiment there in the sense of "you can come back and be in awe of how awesome I am anytime you like."]

[She takes another few drinks, thinking about everything he's said. She's not used to this feeling of companionship. Usually, it's only around Cato.

And, well... the last not-Cato person she thought got it... Well. They were suffering from a death penalty.]

People around here are so touchy when it comes to talking about having killed.

Even touchier about being killed. I've died three times and you don't see me crying about it.

Three times?

[She looks up at him again, unable to help her curiosity.]

I thought you were immortal.

Mostly immortal. I never get old. And I'm very hard to kill. But come on. Only three times in a thousand years? That's impressive.

It really is.

Do you... come back? Like if people die here?

Well, it was different each time. Now, see, the first time? You have to go back a ways. See, it was a long time ago and here I was, walking across a graveyard in some other world I don't recall the name of. Little graves everywhere but as I go under a tree, someone up in it calls out to me for help. As it turns out, it's the Devil himself, dressed in a ridiculous horned suit with a pitchfork. See, it turns out some righteous folk got him trapped up there with all manner of crucifixes and other religious paraphernalia. Now, I'm not a righteous man, personally. God-fearing, yes, but only because gods in general tend to be dicks. But what was the harm in setting the Devil free? If I didn't do it, then some other sod was going to do it later.

So I agree to let him go. Only if he does something for me in return.

[She has some idea what gods are, having listened to people around here, but... There's a new term. She knows it'll probably sound stupid. Really, really stupid.

But...]

The Devil?

Satan? Belzebub? The King of Lies? Lucifer? Evil incarnate? The gatekeeper to hell himself? Mr. Bad News? Nick Slick? Old Hob? The Prince of Darkness? Et cetera, et cetera?

[Clove smiles faintly but shakes her head.]

Never heard of him.

Well, he's the bad guy in the supernatural world. All the bad people in life? They go to hell, a big pit of fire for eternal torture to suffer for all the misdeeds in life. Disproportionate retribution, right? Well, Old Scratch promised me that if I let him go, he'd see to it I never went to hell. And someone like me? Well, there's not much chance of me getting past the pearly gates to heaven everlasting. So I agreed and set him free. And after that, things seemed to be going my way. I could do whatever I wanted without worry of hell afterwards. So what was there to fear in the land of the living?

Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.

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