Chapter Text
Clarity, at least a moment of it.
She knows.
Well, that was the point, wasn’t it? Attention. So she said. She knew all, He knew all. And the last ones, they just wanted attention. They just wanted mortals. So she knew, alright, and above them both, He knew.
This nation had been fun. He’d wrenched the steering wheel from the commander and run his army into the ground; she’d better know. He was rather proud of this one.
The demigod wiped his mouth with his sleeve and signed the tab to be billed to a new name. John. He signed everyone’s tabs. He had pockets of money—everyone else’s. John was good. Even if a man’s official name was John and he wrote it everywhere, he’d remain anonymous. Who’d miss a John? They’re five for ten cents. His own John was one for nothing, he’d taken it from the bartender’s own name tag.
So what if she knew?
“Schlatt.”
He buried his face in his hands and composed himself hidden, then plastered a grin to his face and spun to face the girl in the doorway.
Her blonde hair fell flat over her features as it always did in town, a curtain that only waved slightly when she spoke. She had a green coat on, buttoned all the way up her collar, and shorts on below for the summer heat.
“Looking for me? Name’s John.”
“I found you.”
“So you did.”
She crossed her arms. “Time to go, Schlatt.”
The bartender leaned across the bar. “Teen daughters are quite a handful, aren’t they?”
Schlatt propped his elbow on the bar and gazed up and back into the bartender’s eyes. “She’s no daughter of mine. I wouldn’t know.”
The bartender straightened up. “You’ll be back tomorrow to pay, is that right, John?”
So much trust. Schlatt was rich with trust and he never knew why. “That’s right.”
Drista was bouncing on her heels in the doorway. He had to go now, he knew, there was no more waiting, and she wouldn’t be there if He wasn’t far behind. This place had good rice wine, he’d have to remember it. He’d have to leave before the god in the doorway spontaneously combusted from nerves, so the place could stay standing, so he could remember it.
Maybe that was another thing he wasn’t so sad to be missing out on. Spontaneous combustion from godhood. That was one for the cons list.
Schlatt spun his stool around and slipped off the seat. He landed heavily on his heels, he landed with purpose. The boards here would remember him. He scorched them a bit with the thought.
“Thanks, man,” said a customer by the door. He reached out to shake Shlatt’s hand, but the half-god strode past. Attending Drista’s beck and call was a higher-ranking priority than greeting someone he’d just swindled.
Maybe that man was another John.
Drista was standing right outside the pub, under a streetlamp. She shook her hair out of her face and glared—well, he assumed it was a glare, hard to tell with porcelain faces—at Schlatt.
“It’s been a while.”
“You said I could get another year off!”
She crossed her arms. “I said a year off. One. Not three.”
“Well, time’s a construct.”
“Deconstruct it, then.”
“I did a pretty good job on this one, wouldn’t you say?” Schlatt stepped away from the pub and put his hands on his hips to admire his work. “Not a single one of the same settlements left standing.”
He surveyed the land around. The river had been a particularly good job, off to his left, when he’d convinced the townspeople miles upstream to build a dam, to make a lake. Of course, that left this town with no water but their wells, but what else were wells for?
The pub was the only non-shuttered building around, with the only street lamp lit. A multitude of horses were tied up outside. Schlatt could cut their ropes and leave every person in the pub stranded. He could. It didn’t feel like a very John thing to do.
“I mean, I thought literal destruction was my thing,” Drista complained.
Schlatt lowered his gaze back to the teen. “Out of the hierarchy of chaos, I’d think you’d want me to be the one to take the damage.”
“Stupid demigod.”
“Stupid B-tier god.”
“Don’t call me stupid. I can make you spontaneously combust.”
“Aw, but what would your big bro say then?”
“Don’t call me B-tier.”
“Lesser?”
“No.”
“Secondary?”
“Shut up, Schlatt.”
Well, he was back, whether he liked it or not.
There had always been three in their ranks. DreamXD, who flew so high in the sky that Schlatt was almost amazed he didn’t burn himself. Drista, XD’s little sister, secondary, half powered, generally hanging out under the clouds. And Schlatt himself, stuck on the ground, no powers but immortality, but he made it work, in a way.
“When’s he gonna get here?”
Drista shrugged. “When have I ever known?”
“At least you should know better than me.”
“Shut up, Schlatt.”
“I bet he forgot.”
“He didn’t.”
“I’ll bet you a city he did.”
He imagined that Drista glanced at him. “Which one?” she asked.
“Haven’t decided.”
“North or south?”
“South. North’s boring.”
“I think a bet would be fun.”
“What would you bet on?”
“Not that XD forgot.”
“No?” Schlatt clasped his hands together. “What’ll your bet be?”
“I’ll bet you a nation for chaos that I can annoy him more than you tonight.”
“Coming in swinging. You’ll lose, you know. I piss the guy off the most.”
“We’ll all be there tonight.”
“Right, ‘cause the other gods annoy him more than his own hierarchy.”
“They’re still in his hierarchy, from the way he views it.”
A glass shattered inside.
“I’ll take it.” He held out a hand to shake, then pulled away as Drista reached for it. “Say it with your mouth. You’ll let me be free to ruin a nation if I get him to go nova tonight.”
A slit tore through Drista’s pristine face and smiled. “And if I get him the most annoyed, then you’ve got to work for me for another hundred years.”
“Ah.” A hundred years was a while. Not too long, but was it worth a nation? His tenure was almost up, just another five years until the demigod could roam free again. “I’ll modify: if me and the others piss him off more than you, I win.”
“I’m his sister, I’ve basically got an automatic win.” Drista conjured eyes into existence and rolled them.
“Then there’s nothing to worry about.”
Schlatt reached out his hand, and this time they shook.
“I hope that was the real Schlatt I just shook with.”
“When have I ever been real?”
Drista stared at him in her search for an answer, then her features snapped out of existence. “Shut up.”
The bet rolled around Schlatt’s brain like a bottle cap as the pair waited for their leader to arrive.
And the world tipped forward.