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[Scar]
Testing, testing… Is this thing on? I think it’s on. Even if it’s not, I need something to talk to all of this about, and I’m not planning on putting this in storage, so I guess it doesn’t really matter. Let’s see… Alright. I don’t sense anyone else nearby, but just in case you’re using some sort of magic to eavesdrop, then stop snooping you creep! (Laughs)
Statement of yours truly, Scar Goodtimes, regarding…hmm…regarding my medical condition, and my friend, Kristin. And if you’re listening right now, Kristin, hello! I hope you’re doing well today! Okay, now where was I? Right!
(In a mock British accent) Statement begins!
Now, where to start…
I guess I’ll start by saying that I love life, and that I love being alive! I love working at the Institute, I love Jellie, I love my coworkers, I love running sketchy side-hustles with Cub—I love it all! Every day that I’m alive is a new adventure, and a gift, and I’m not about to look a perfectly wonderful gift horse in the mouth!
But the thing is…
Okay, so I was about seven or eight-ish, right? And if you know anything about vexes—which aren’t tiny, or gray-blue, or evil, by the way—then you’ll know that their magic manifests around that age. To put it simply, I was eager to get magicking. A little too eager. Long story short, my parents had put together a lunch with some of my aunts and uncles, and while they were all inside eating, my cousins and I were playing outside. Well, I decided that I wanted to show off a levitation spell I’d been working on, and so I climbed onto the roof and…
I hit the ground. Hard. Something snapped, and everything went numb. From my shoulders up it felt like I had swapped broken glass for bones, and the world was starting to go blurry around the edges. And then…
And then it all went black…and then it wasn’t.
It’s funny. Everyone always portrays death as this hooded guy with a scythe, looming above you, ready to drag you away to the great beyond without another thought.
Everyone is wrong.
What greeted me was a woman. She was taller than I was, with long brown hair and dark caramel eyes. She wore a long, flowy, dark purple dress, and a large, wide brimmed hat of the same color, trimmed with a pink ribbon and three little pink roses that sat to one side. A veil hung from the edges of the hat, parting where her face was, and on her hands were silken purple gloves. She smiled, and said I looked like I could use a hand. She pulled me to my feet, and I took in the white void we were standing in. There was nothing and no one else around except for us.
Of course, being me, the first thing I pointed out was not the fact that I was clearly dead, but the fact that the woman’s shadow appeared to have wings. She laughed at that, and told me she used magic to hide them, because she didn’t want to scare people off. At that, a pair of huge, feathered black wings appeared and fanned out behind her like a cool, shadowy, Darth-Vader-y cape, and she laughed again when she saw my awestruck expression. I asked her her name, and she told me it was Kristin, but that she was better known as “Death”. My smile fell when I realized what that meant.
I asked her if I was dead, and she said yes, but that it wouldn’t be that way for much longer—that I had a very special gift. I remember feeling sort of dizzy all of a sudden, and she smiled at me, and told me she’d see me later. The world sort of…shifted around me, and then I was back in my backyard, laying in the spot where I had landed. My cousins ran over, and my parents and the other adults were there a split second later, all of them asking if I was okay, if I was crazy, what was I thinking—basic stuff. I just smiled, and laughed.
My mom was convinced I had a concussion for the next week.
The next time it happened was when my childhood friend, Cub, and I were on a high school field trip to the forest. Now, this may sound stupid, but there were rumors that there was gold and jewels buried in the woods, and we were eager to strike it rich, so we snuck off and began searching. I was checking an area a little deeper in the brush, and wasn’t watching my footing like I should have been, so it didn’t come as a surprise to me when I ended up falling down into a giant sinkhole. There were rocks at the bottom, and it hurt a lot when I hit them, but the fall itself made the death quicker than the last time.
I guess maybe I was in a little bit of disbelief the second time, because I was sure I had dreamed the whole thing up when I was little, and I was sure I was about to die. But just like last time, my vision went black, and then white, and then I was fine. I was sitting inside the sinkhole fine as a fiddle, like nothing ever happened. I heard Cub calling my name, and so I answered, and told him to watch his step when he got close. After a minute or two I saw his face peek through the brush.
By the way, the look on his face when he saw how far down I had fallen was priceless! He looked like he’d seen a ghost!
(Laughs)
Anyway, after taking a moment to study the hole, and debate the best path to retrieve me from it, Cub carefully levitated me out of the gaping thing, back onto the nice, safe grass, and looked me over to check that I was okay. I told him I was fine, because I was. I mean, sure, I had just died, but Cub didn’t know that, and it’s not like it had any lasting damage worse than my ripped jacket, so it was fine.
When the teacher and the rest of the class finally found us, we got the longest scolding in existence, but that was it. No harm, no foul, no nothing.
You know the saying? About how twice is coincidence, but three times makes a pattern? Well, I was ninety-nine percent certain that a pattern had already been formed, but I guess the universe figured it was better to be safe than sorry, because after that it just kept happening.
The first time I drove I got in a terrible crash that totaled my car, but I came out of it unscathed. When I went ice skating, the ice broke beneath me, and when I resurfaced I didn’t even flinch. It’s like that every time. Every time I die, and every time I come back, and every time I’m fine, like it never happened!
I mean, I’ve wondered before if Kristin is just too polite to complain about how annoying it is for her to see me so often, because it’s not an understatement when I say that I’m terrible at keeping myself alive!
I start to cross a street and it seems like cars just start materializing out of thin air or something!
And don’t even get me started on this job. Spontaneous combustion and death by spiders are both very real things I’ve experienced in my time here, and I can tell you that they’re both awful.
Here’s a pro Scar life tip: never anger a creepy old lady who lives by herself.
(Shudders)
I’ve wondered before if it’s some sort of trade off, you know? Like maybe the reason why I end up dead more frequently, is because it’s not permanent for me. If everything were that easy, where would the balance be?
The other thing I wonder a lot about is… Okay, so you know how when you check your pulse, you just press your fingers to your neck, or your wrist, and you can feel your heartbeat, thumping away just below your skin? Well, I’ve gone to a lot of doctors, and they’ve all said the same thing: my pulse is fine, I’m a healthy individual—all that jazz. But sometimes, just for a fraction of a second, I swear that my heartbeat is just…gone. Like my heart’s just decided to take the day off without my permission.
…
Honestly, though, it’s really just like any other chronic condition. The whole not-having-a-pulse-for-a-bit thing has never really caused me any real concern, and life’s a lot less scary when you know you’ll always bounce right back!
(Softly) But you know what really scares me? What really keeps me up at night? It’s the thought that maybe one day…
…maybe I won’t.
(Pauses briefly)
But I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it! For now, I’m just happy to be alive, and hopefully, if I ever do die for real, I’ll have experienced enough to satisfy me.
That, and I’ll have an amazing friend keeping my company!
Speaking of, I think we’re playing Sorry at my house tonight, so I should probably make some tea…
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[Grian]
Scar?
[Scar]
Oh! Hi Grian! What’s up?
[Grian]
Why are you still here? I thought you had gone home by now.
[Scar]
Oh, you know me. Just doing a little personal project is all. Nothing super fancy.
[Grian]
Is that—you’re not messing with my tapes, are you?
[Scar]
Nope! I was just borrowing the recorder! The statements are safe and sound. Cross my heart and hope to die!
(Giggles)
[Grian]
Why are you laughing?
[Scar]
Oh, nothing. Just an inside joke. Maybe I’ll explain one day. For now though, I need your input on something.
[Grian]
What is it?
[Scar]
I’m having a friend over for game night tonight, and she likes tea, so I was planning on making some. She drinks a wide variety of teas though, so I'm not sure what kind to brew. Got any good recommendations?
[Grian]
Well, I don’t tend to drink tea that often myself, but Mumbo swears by the hibiscus tea he drinks, so maybe try that?
[Scar]
Ooo! Perfect! That sounds like it’ll be to die for!
(Giggles)
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