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Who: Legion, and anyone interested in discussing current events
What: Discussion of information obtained, as mentioned in this.
When: Early March, the day after Legion makes their announcement over the stones.
Where: The Denny
Warnings: Unsure of what to warn for specifically, but possible mentions of war, death, and serious past events with all their associated content warnings

It is time, they feel, to share what they have learned, and to acquire additional data. They have scheduled a time for this, and now they wait.

The Denny has an adequate supply of organic sustenance, however, they have chosen to supplement this with their own offerings of various objects transfigured into cake via their blade of plenty. Said cakes are arranged on the table in front of them, an obvious and enticing invitation to anyone who hadn’t heard the announcement.

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Keith walks through the door dressed casually, his hair pulled back in a braid to rest against his back. But his eyes are sharp, sweeping over the inside of Denny. He picks out the exits and takes up a spot where he can see the entire space, dropping his bag down by his seat. "Hey." He says at last, as he opens his bag and draws out an old battered journal.

"Here and present, notes included."

"Keith."

Their headflaps lift and flutter when they see him. Of all possible allies in this, he is the one they were most hoping would join.

"Acknowledged. Thank you."

They gesture at the cake. "You may take it if you wish."

Jay peers in the front door, a lanky, nervous stick insect of a man, still carrying the dead camera from his own world. He doesn't have notes. He wishes he had notes.

All he's got is his memory. Unfortunately, even if (as Tim said) that thing from back home didn't follow them here, it still left scars. He doubts his memory's as reliable as it used to be.

It'll have to do.

He's not sure which to stare at first, the robot, the guy in the braid, or the array of cakes spread across the table. He's leaning toward the robot, but after a little over a month of subsisting on jerky, eggs, and fruit (and a few years of living off something similar in his car back home), those cakes take a close second.

"I'm, uh. Jay. Here for the...I talked to Osoru, so...here for that, I guess."

Michael, for his part, isn't sure how much he really has to contribute here. Sure, he chatted with Tsamayar some, but he's also lacking a lot of basic context surrounding a lot of the islands' history. Still, it's Denny; he's at Denny all the time anyway. Right now, in fact, he's just retreated to his habitual bar-tending.

"I talked to Tsamayar. Star turtle, out on star island? Does anybody want a drink? I have...water, mango juice, and tea." Maybe if things go south he'll magic up some alcohol, but let's just hold that one in reserve.

"I'm good for now," Keith says addressing both Legion and Michael's offers at once then swinging his gaze back to Jay. He settles against the wall behind him, journal on the table as he says. "I'm Keith. Been here a long time. Probably best we all say what we heard first. I can go last and explain things as I go. Put context to whatever you might not understand."

His lips curl up at the left corner as he adds, "Probably raise more questions than answers. Don't worry, we'll figure all this out somehow."

Coming to this meeting is forcing him to realize just how many scraps of detail he's collected and how little that information has gleaned. He's spent a lot of time over the years trying to synthesize and collect information, and maybe with everyone on dock for this they can figure something out.

What this means is that he arrives with a full-ass book, walks in, and drops it on the table with the rest of them.

"Alright." Kravitz wishes he had some kind of grand speech for this, but mostly he just needs to lay it out in a way that makes the information accessible and remember he's not even the one who called this meeting. "I have been studying the situation of gods and the circumstance of our capture since my arrival just shy of two years ago. This represents a collective knowledge of what I've found, from direct conversations with these gods about themselves and each other. I... sincerely hope it is sufficient, when combined with your knowledge, though I am not... quite sure where to begin on all this."

It's entirely possible Crowley was there the entire time. If no one was looking in the corner of the room, where he sits, legs propped up on the table cast in shadow, they wouldn't have noticed him. Then again, it's entirely possible he just popped in, he's known to do that.

"Leave it to you to compile every conversation into a book." he groans, pushing the chair out and away from the table with one leg. It makes an unsavory noise across the floor as it drags out and Crowley moves to stand, his slender frame moving out of the shadows. He's been nursing the same pair of sunglasses since arriving in the archipelago, very carefully cared for in a way that can't be said for the rest of his clothing. It's still mostly intact, though a bit charred or stressed from assorted wear and tear. They'd likely be a lot worse if he didn't have a very close friend with the ability to fix things.

"I only have my experiences to share. Nothing more."

"Same..." Jay stammers, distracted. "Same here. Don't have any real records yet, but, uh--"

He's not gonna climb over the table. Can't very easily, with the camera in his hand. He can't say he's not thinking about it, though.

"Can I--?" He reaches, but doesn't grab it. "That book, can I, like--can I borrow it? Or just read it or something?"

The bullshit that happened back home didn't come with research. It barely came with help. He's gonna take the opportunity when he gets it.

Edited 2020-03-13 06:28 (UTC)

Aziraphale shows up as the conversation has already started, having gone to the library to retrieve his own notes. He isn't exactly carrying his own enciclopedia of knowledge like Kravitz, but that is only due to the fact that he hasn't been here nearly as long, which does make him fear he might not have much to contribute. But he's sure he has a lot to hear, anyway.

He stops for a couple of seconds, facing the scene. "Ah- am I late?" He says to the group as he walks up to stand next to Crowley, greeting him an uneasy smile.

He clears his throat and picks through his notes. "I'm afraid I might not have much, but - I did have a chat with Osoru. Wasn't the only one, as far as I know."

"Greetings Jay." They proceed to greet each arrival in turn: "Michael. Kravitz."

They listen to them talk, then look up as Crowley enters.

"Greetings."

They gesture at the cake laid out on the table.

"You may take what you wish." It is said to everyone. Though they themselves have no need of food, they are aware that organics do. They are, additionally, aware that many organics are fond of sweet flavored substances.

At the sound of another approaching, they look up.

"Aziraphale. You may also consume cake if you wish."

They turn back to the table.

"Our own interactions with the gods are more limited, however, we are concerned: there is clear conflict between the Water and the Storyteller, and though neither appears malicious, there is limited data to suggest their actions will not cause disruption, harm."

Jay doesn't reach for the cake. He keeps his hand half-extended, hoping to take a look at the notes.

He has to listen, though. Written evidence isn't the only kind, obviously.

"Good to know." He didn't take a side when things went to hell, just holed up in the back of Denny with his pair of tiny, useless knives. At least Tim was decently armed. "Osoru said something about this, uh, this whole world being...well, basically dead, I guess. So, I mean, it's kinda...I dunno, anybody think it's weird they'd want to fight over it?"

"Tsamayar made it sound like those two fight all the time," Michael opines, still from behind the bar. If nobody's going to request anything, well, he'll just brew himself some tea. "Like bickering siblings or something. Immortals don't really have families, but we do tend to be...I don't know, petty bitches?"

He glances at Aziraphale and Crowley, as if for confirmation. He's pretty sure they'll back him up on both these points.

Legion looks at Michael.

"Geth do not age. We do not adhere to this pattern."

They file the information about Michael's immortality away: they're too used to this sort of thing to be particularly shocked.

"Have you been around since the beginning of time?"

They're a robot, as far as Michael can tell; they may not age, but he's sure their parts would degrade over time. Nonetheless, he considers immortality to be a little more than that. It isn't that he doesn't get older. It's that he's always been around.

After a moment of hesitation, Aziraphale speaks. "Well...he's not entirely incorrect." He almost sighs. It's only been about half a year since a lot of things changed, but there's at least one person in here who knows how much progress it is for him to even agree with that. He doesn't even quite think of who in the room is actually aware of the number of immortal, timeless are with them tonight.

"We", and he vaguely gestures between himself and Crowley, "have only been here for about- five months, I do believe. So I'm sure you all may have a lot more relevant information to share. None the less..."

He moves forward, setting his notes down on the table, a few pages, in explicitly neat handwriting, including passages about his conversations with Harv and Osoru. He folds his hands in front of himself. "I suppose it's better than nothing."

The next comment he adds seems to be a bit troubling to get out. "As far as I can tell, we're stuck in something we have no control or say over, and we're... expected to fix it ourselves." The angel scrunches his face for a moment, looking like someone who definitely hears an echo of something in what he's saying, and it's not great.

Kravitz listens as everyone speaks, nodding towards Jay at his request to look over any of his notes. He's thankful as Aziraphale tries to wrangle the conversation back into shape, and he clears his throat as the angel's words peter off.

"Thank you to everyone who brought information forward. Perhaps we can structure this somewhat from our pooled information, hm? I have spoken to both the Water and to the Storyteller at length, and from what I can tell they are both missing-- as well as withholding-- key information about the state of the world."

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "Not to mention Osoru's insinuation that we not have a real world at all. Since most of us have spoken to them, perhaps that's a prudent place to start. What else did we learn?"

"Those with wills strong enough are capable of shaping their own fates, regardless of what destiny might have in store for them." Keith says quietly as he raises his head from the pages he'd been staring at. "Osoru told me that." Why he doesn't share but he pulls himself to his feet and looks over what Aziraphale brought.

"...this isn't nothing." It fits right in. He traces his fingers over the words then steps back, returning to his seat as the weight of what he now knows settles over him. "So, we know why we're here. And Mu is the way we come and the way we can go out. And...our will moves this place in more ways than we yet know." But how much does it affect things? How far how they push it?

He has ideas about that but, Keith sighs. "Starting to make sense why we fought for so long to know anything at all."

Jay snorts. "Yeah. Osoru couldn't tell me anything about home. Couldn't even tell me what's going to happen here. Not exactly much of a, uh, god-of-fate-and-destiny-and-prophecy." He rolls his eyes.

Then, he catches himself, stammering. "I--I mean, I dunno how long you've all been trying to figure all this out, but, I mean, it sounded like there were...like, they could see every single timeline, so they couldn't really say anything useful."

He picks up a book of notes, flipping through pages without looking down. "Except the whole they're-dead-world's-ended...thing. Seemed pretty sure about that."

Ginko is a little late, having had to meet up with Hector and Chip first (and sort out their shock with regards to the loss of his arm, and his about Hector's state in general). But he stays quiet when he comes in and hears people already talking, sliding into a seat as he listens.

So far, it's sounding like the others have at least picked up a good bit of the information he got from Osoru. So he'll wait a bit before saying anything.

He trails in after Ginko as quietly as he can, really only here to make sure the guy doesn't pass out in the middle of the meeting. It's... been a while since he bothered having a serious talk with any of the gods. He's not exactly a fan... and what he has learned doesn't paint a good picture of their situation.

He plonks his bones down into a chair and stays quiet himself, just listening for now.

“Osoru is a memory of who they once were.” Keith says as he uncrosses his arms and taps his claws on the table in front of him. “They can’t be what they were before. Closer to a shadow of it and without being alive probably can’t tell you anything you don’t already know or remember.” He adds as he glances up to nod to the two who came in.

His eyes flash yellow as he takes in Ginko’s state of being but the reaction is stowed quickly. He turns back to the others. “And Storyteller forgot some of what we learned but it sounds like they’ll remember it now.”

(Their headflaps raise at Michael's question.)

We have not.

(He is some variation of higher being? Apparently, Aziraphale is as well, or at least, has familiarity with them. They are, perhaps, less shocked than might be expected: they have encountered many such entities.

They make a note in their profiles on these allies, then reach out to take one of the stacks of paper Aziraphale has set down.)

Regardless of whether this location is "real", the Water has confirmed that the natives we have encountered-the Roaka and the Jormun-are likely survivors of the previous world, and not constructs of memory.

(It's important, they think, to consider this in any discussion that involves the possible fate of this world: their actions will not affect them alone.)

Can the "memories" of the Gods self determinate?

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