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“I’m sure you’re both wondering why I called you here.”
The old man leans back in his chair, childlike grin spreading across his face. His tiny frame paints a contrast against the huge hall the three men are sat in. His outrageous getup only pushes the image further into ridicule.
“Beyond your desire to show off?” Elias asks, tilting his chin upand motioning with a single finger to the massive, almost cathedral like room. In fact, it had been a cathedral before the Fairchild family had bought it and cleared the pews out. “Simon, you’re here because you’re bored. This project is finished, but it was old news, anyways. You’re too weak to attempt another ritual. This is one of your little games, and for some misguided reason, you thought Peter and I would like to play it.”
“Cheater.” Peter mumbles.
Elias chuckles. “Correct me if I’m wrong Simon, but...” He pauses mid-monologue. “…Simon. SIMON.”
The little old man in the neon blue tracksuit sitting across from him startles awake. “Oh, sorry Jonah. You do tend to ramble on at times. I usually make a note but in the vastness of the cosmos, our infinite stretch of this merciless universe, it must have slipped my mind.”
“Try being married to him.” Peter muffles again.
“Peter, if you have something to add to the conversation, I’d be obliged if you made sure we all could hear.”
“Fuck off, Elias.” Peter says, loud and clear.
Simon begins to speak again and Elias concedes the argument. “You are correct, my beady little man, as you do tend to be- don’t let that go to your ego, Jonah. You’re still a sad excuse for dinner company. I have come to meet with you two to propose a bet of sorts- a gentleman’s wager as it would be.”
“When does the other gentleman show up?” Peter asks.
“Ex-CUSE me.” It is always amusing to watch Elias get angry. This vessel fits Jonah’s fits of rage perfectly, face flushing with emotion as he stands up. “But I am the only gentleman here who lived in the true age of chivalry! Full offense intended, Simon.”
Simon raises his flute of champagne. “None taken. Sit down, Jonah.” He sips from it. “Now, I know we have all had our differences in the past. I’ve thrown Peter into the ocean, Jonah has stolen one or two of my favourite Fairchilds for his Institute, you two have your weird divorce contest- my point being, in the endless expanse of the Falling Titan, I’m sure we can put such petty grievances aside. A bet, my good men. What do you say?”
Simon has given himself a rolling chair, and he pushes it back as he finishes speaking, resting two sequined heels upon the counter. Elias takes visible offense at the shoes while Peter leans back in his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully.
“How much money, Simon?” He asks from half-closed eyes. “This one’s blackmailing a new lawyer. I might be losing more in court next month than usual.”
Simon laughs as he downs the last of his drink and tosses the glass behind him. It is quickly whisked into thin air. “No money, Peter.” He says, “No- of course I would never be opposed to throwing some around, but I’m afraid it simply won’t work with this bet. No, Peter, not money- honour. Valour. ” He giggles again. “Bragging rights. This is a game after all!”
“You’re not suggesting…” Elias squints, a confused look held primly on his features.
“We all know about your Watcher’s Crown, Jonah- wonderful name, by the way. At first I didn’t pay it much attention, but I do say you’re putting a lot of effort into your little archivist. If it does work, well Peter…” he winks in Peter’s direction. Peter wrinkles his nose as if there is a bad smell in the air. “The world won’t be too welcoming to the likes of us! In fact, I’m willing to bet that all three of us will die grisly ends!”
Peter finally clues in. “Wait, so this is… some kind of fucked up mortality bet?”
“Exactly!” Simon claps his hands together. “You’re getting it!”
Jonah rolls his eyes and delicate sips his champagne, rolling it around in his mouth for a few seconds longer than necessary. Good, now the attention is on him. “You two have no idea what you’re talking about.” He says, allowing a coy little smile onto his features.
“Awh, come on Jonah!” Simon laughs. “Loosen up for once in your life.”
“What happens when his plan fails?” Peter asks. He has not touched his drink, though he’s beginning to feel like he could use it.
“Then we make fun of Jonah relentlessly for being an overambitious little prick- same as any other ritual, but worse. He’s not nearly charismatic as us.”
Peter grunts.
“I should have known this would be malarkey.” Elias scoffs and stands up once more. “Simon, as always I hope you know how much I truly mean it when I say you can go suck a dick.” He turns on his heel- his very stylish black heel, thank you very much. “Preferably not my husband’s.”
“I’m in.” Peter says with a grin as he gives in and swallows the entire flute in one gulp like a shot.
“You’re what?”
Peter turns to Simon. “Is that all?”
Peter has once been on a walk through London, cloaked in the lonely, and seen a dog walker with a little Chihuahua. The walker had been oblivious, but the mutt had seen him and started yapping up a storm. The tiny thing was going crazy. Whenever Elias got mad at him, Peter couldn’t help but remember that dog. It had actually been the subject of more than one divorce.
“Peter, you would really take this stupid offer just to spite me? You would really rather side with Simon Fairchild than share an opinion with me on one subject?”
“Yes.” Peter says without hesitation.
Elias turns to Simon. “I take the bet as well.” He says, “Only because when my ritual succeeds, I will outlive both of you easily.”
“Wonderful!” Simon says before Peter can back out. That would, of course, cause Elias to back out again, causing Peter to once again make the deal, and cause a precious cathedral to be besieged with a vicious circle of petulant old British men one upping each other. Simon has already had too many of those lunches. “May the best man win.”
They both look at him and sense at the same time that they have been played.
“You’re such a bastard.” Elias sighs.
“Thank you, Jonah. Will you two be able to see yourselves out?”
Simon has set up their table in the middle of the huge room. He earns his smile lines as he watches Peter and Elias get up and trudge towards the door. He lets them get halfway before he calls out.
“Wrong door!”
There are very nearly tears in his eyes as he hears Elias’s scream of frustration.
As they get close to what is hopefully the real door, Elias looks up at Peter.
“I won’t stand you making a fool of me in front of company.” He says, brushing a speck of dust off of his cuffs.
“You make it so easy, Elias.” Peter’s footsteps echo across the room. He is sure that Simon can hear everything they’re saying, but he is pretty used to constant scrutiny by now. It’s no different from the exhausting watch of the normal world.
“I’ll be divorcing you over this.”
Peter doesn’t look at Elias as he replies. “You can’t. I’m already divorcing you.”
“When!? And on what grounds!?”
“Last night, and on the grounds that you were cheating on me with Simon Skybastard.”
“Peter, you and I both agreed that the divorce announcement doesn’t count if we have sex directly afterwards. If it did, even my bank account would start to feel strained.”
“Ugh, fine.” Peter pushes open the heavy doors to feel the rush of air on his face and he stumbles back to keep from falling. He grabs Elias by the scruff of his collar as well, stopping him from falling into the wooshing mass of clouds.
“What’s the fuck, Simon!” Elias calls back and they can just barely hear Simon’s giggles over the rushing of the wind.
“You have to take a leap of faith to leave!” Simon shouts. “What’s the fun otherwise?”
Elias rolls his eyes so hard he almost strains them. That has happened before- luckily, he needed to get new ones anyways.
Peter attempts to nope out into the lonely, but Elias grabs his shirt cuff first. “No chance, Captain.” He says. “If I’m going to be tortured here, you are too.”
Peter relents.
“This means it’s your turn to get the ring.” Elias says to Peter as they stand over the Falling Titan.
“Silver princess cut again?”
“Gold princess cut, silver dehydrates my complexion as you know very well. And at least half a million pounds this time, for emotional damages.”
“Fuuuck me.” Peter sighs as he presses his palm to the bridge of his nose.
“I would, but I want that ring.” Elias winks and jumps off of the cliff.
Peter follows, already wondering how he’ll explain this new charge to the family.
---
Simon’s new domain has come with new powers.
He’s cooing over his great beast when he feels it. A change in the wind pressure, a ripple in spacetime, a disturbance in the force.
He decides to take a quick zip over to the panopticon, just to make sure everything’s alright, and he manages to catch the Archivist, still holding the knife as the blood drains out of Jonah Magnus.
He begins a shout of triumph before the world temporarily dies.
When he is conscious again his face feels old, papery, stretching, parts of it flaking off at his touch. And now there are hands grabbing him, so many hands, a great beast of hands and movement. He can’t really move as they throw him off the bridge.
Nobody knows what he shouts as he tumbles to his death. Nobody really cares.
But if anybody listens closely, really listens, they might be able to make out his last words, whispered on the wings of the wind…
“I WIN, COCKSUCKERS!”