Work Text:
The Governor was struck by the sudden inspiration to write some poetry.
I thought to put legs on a train
To traverse the House without pain
There’s no better steed
Than a kinetopede
For those who are slightly insane
She looked over the limerick with mild admiration. It had been a while since she’d written anything like that. She hadn’t done it regularly since her days as a kinetopede captain, traversing the dark rooms of the House and swapping poetry with Persephone and the rest of her crew. So many lifetimes ago…absentmindedly, she wondered what the rest of her crew was up to these days.
“Hey, guv! How’ve you been?”
In surprise, she turned around to find Dredger waving from the door. Behind him was a trail of dead Governer’s men.
“You know you could’ve just made an appointment to see me,” she sighed.
“Oh, I actually did try that. They told me I had a lifetime ban from the City of Keys. Besides, this way’s more fun!”
She gave a heavier sigh. “What do you want?”
“Well, a few days ago I was sitting in a dark room surrounded by horror and corpses when I started thinking, I haven’t seen my old friends in thousands of years! So I decided to get the old crew back together for a day! You know, like organizing a reunion!”
“Since when have you organized anything?”
“I dunno, but a man’s got to do something to preserve his sanity.” Without further ado, he grabbed her arm and stepped out the window, stretching over to a kinetopede parked at the edge of the city. Ordinarily, the Governor wouldn’t have tolerated being somewhat kidnapped, but frankly she was too affronted to say anything.
She looked around the kinetopede. All of the Perennials were there, and all of them were looking disgruntled. “He drag you here too?” asked Ashen.
“Unfortunately,” stated the Governor.
“He did the same to me,” seethed the Hostage King. “I was in the middle of some important calculations, and he interrupted it!”
“And I was in the middle of lunch,” Giles complained. “I was enjoying that Gandolan Trout.”
“Would anyone object,” asked Arthur, “if I threw Dredger in prison after this?”
There were multiple murmurs of ’no’ and ‘not at all’ from the assembled Perennials. Dredger just kept smiling.
“Well, in any case,” sighed the Governor, “we’re all here, so we’d might as well have a quick reunion. I’m sure that all of us have been up to a lot in the past few thousand years, and we have a lot to catch each other up on.” She leaned back. “I’ll start: I’ve gotten into politics, and have been ruling the City of Keys. I’m sure you’re all aware of its reputation as a thriving metropolis and one of the strongest places in the House.”
“Lovely, but you’re not the only one in charge of a government,” Giles stated, not wishing to be outdone. “After all, I’m the de-facto ruler of the City of Bridges. Unfettered capitalism is flourishing, and I’m sure you know that the Consortium is one of the wealthiest institutions in the House.”
If only to prevent him from further gloating, the Lady of Blades pointed out, “Gustave has a whole empire, you know? I’m an immortal aristocrat in the City of Masks, and the Hostage-King used to rule the City of Engines—“
“I’m working on getting it back!” the Hostage-King roared. “And I prefer to be called ’His-Majesty-in-Exile’!”
“Whatever. My point is that just about everyone here is politically successful. Even Arthur has that prison he’s in charge of. The only ones who don’t rule anything are Ashley, who’s just murderous and depressed, and Dredger, who’s just murderous and insane.”
Ashen’s eye twitched at the mention of her name in the same sentence as Dredger. “Hey Lady of Blades, speaking of being murderous and insane, how’s your ex-boyfriend? Does that crazy angel still want to kill you?” she asked.
The Lady of Blades lowered her mask of knives, glaring steadily. “Are you suggesting I wouldn’t be able to cut that freak to pieces?”
“Aaanyway, ladies,” Arthur cut in, attempting to defuse the situation. “Er, we’re on the topic of relationships? Let’s talk about something healthy and slightly less stab-inducing, like love stories. Do any of you have any relationships, any romances, any families?” He glanced at Gustave. “Er, no offense.”
Gustave jerkily floated forward. “Oh, I’m not offended at all. Sure, the fact that gods destroyed my family fills me with unquenchable theo-cidal rage, but did I tell you that I have a daughter now?” He pulled out a daguerreotype of a small girl suspended from the ceiling by squirming black threads. She was holding a massive spear and hovering over the corpse of a giant squid. “Isn’t she just the cutest?”
“Aww, the little tyke’s a chip off the old block,” cooed Dredger. “What a little sweetie.”
“I know! I’m planning to get her a god-harpoon for her next birthday. She’s growing up so fast.” He wiped an inky black tear from his eye, which squirmed away when it hit the floor. “Anyway, how about you guys? Do any of you have kids?”
“I don’t,” replied the Lady of Blades, “but every thirty years I have to pretend to have a kid so I can pretend to have my mask possess them so I can pretend to be an immortal mask.” She shrugged. “The aristocracy in the City of Masks is weird, not gonna lie.”
“I have a couple of kids,” said the Governor, “but I don’t keep track of them. I’ve had a number of lovers through the years, but nothing serious.”
“Oh really?” scoffed Ashen. “I would’ve hoped you hadn’t moved onto any other relationships, after what you did to Per—” The rest of the word was cut off because Ashen’s mouth had started to foam. She coughed, spitting blood into her hand. “I can’t believe that you would just move on from Pers—” More blood choked out the remainder of the word. “Oh come on! Everyone here already knows about what we did! Stupid curse.”
“Oh Ashley, the curse weighs heavily on all of us,” Giles patted her arm sadly. “It is an affliction masquerading as a blessing, these endless years stretching ahead of us from our crime and toward the far reaches of infinity. What is immortality, if not a preservative for the body while the soul withers and dies? I’ve written some poetry about it, if you want to hear.”
“Would anyone object,” asked Ashen, “if I murdered this guy later?”
There were several murmurs of ’nah’ and ‘please do’ from the assembled Perennials. Giles looked rather concerned.
Arthur stepped between them, trying once again to diffuse the situation. “Aaaaanyway, changing the subject again…Gustave, I’ve always wanted to ask what’s beyond the Filimenor Gate. I know you don’t typically let in unthreaded folks, but would you mind showing us the rest of your empire?”
Gustave folded his gauntlets and stared down at the eager faces of the other Perennials. “Eh, what the heck. You guys can have a quick peek, for old times’ sake. But if y’all break anything, I will start a war with your cities.”
They all cheered and then drove the kinetopede down to Filimenor. It was a busy day in the frontier city, with hundreds of people milling about (or in the case of the Threaded, floating through) the markets. Danglehands dropped from the ceiling, repairing a battered kinetopede that had parked beside the Perennials’. The Hostage King rolled his radiant eyes at them. “I’ve seen better feats of engineering get around with less fanfare,” he muttered to the Lady of Blades.
Gustave gestured toward the gate, looking proud. “Well, here it is,” he stated as the gate began to open. The other Perennials crowded around, gazing at the hidden empire where gods of all forms clashed against lines of Threaded soldiers. Porcelain hills sloped into a vast ocean, and the air smelled faintly of orange air freshener.
“I guess that answers my question,” said Dredger, “about where the bathroom is in the House.”
