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Simon DuBois:
Simon is staring down at his phone screen with tightly pursed lips. He'd been staring at the phone for a good twenty minutes or so, but finally he lets out a long sigh and reaches for the glass of whiskey sitting beside him, downing it in one gulp. Then, before he can decide otherwise, he hits send and puts the phone to his ear.
Ring, ring, ring, comes a call to the other Sin-Eater's phone, from an unknown number!
Erik Samuelson:
An answer came after a ring or two, the voice on the other end a pleasant tenor. "Erik Samuelson, how can I help you?"
Simon DuBois:
"Good evening, Mr. Samuelson." The voice on the other end is... not the most pleasant. Curt, grumpy, and with that snooty impatience rich assholes have. "This is Simon Dubois. I was given your number by a mutual acquaintance."
Erik Samuelson:
"Good to hear from you. I heard tell that you had an...interesting experience recently." Bit of an understatement, of course...
Simon DuBois:
"That is one way to put it," he replies dryly. "I would prefer to speak in person, if you are amiable."
Erik Samuelson:
"I am. Have a preference as to where?"
Simon DuBois:
"I would prefer a more private setting, but I understand if you do not want to accept a call to someone's home for a first meeting."
Erik Samuelson:
"That would be fine, actually. I'd rather it be somewhere you're more comfortable at the moment."
Simon DuBois:
"Good. I'll text you the address, then."
Erik Samuelson:
"I'll be there as soon as I can."
Simon DuBois:
The address leads Erik downtown, to a huge, very luxurious apartment building that overlooks the city and river. He's let through security, then up a long elevator ride to one of the top floors...
The man who answers the door looks surly, but well dressed in a full suit, flawlessly pressed. He certainly doesn't look like someone who had brutally died in the past couple of days. The décor balances that minimalist, clean look that rich people seem drawn to with some hints of history--the occasional piece of furniture or art looking old and antique, with some shelves here and there displaying cases containing historical artifacts.
Erik Samuelson:
Erik, on the other hand, is dressed neatly if casually in black jeans, boots and a white t-shirt. Accompanying the Bound - and likely felt while he was coming down the hallway towards the apartment - was a sensation both familiar and not, a remnant of the brief demise that both men had experienced.
"Evening." He said with a polite smile. "Mister Dubois, I presume?"
Simon DuBois:
Simon stares at the man for a long beat as that feeling of familiarity washes over him, then snaps himself out of it. "Yes. Please, come in and make yourself comfortable." His words polite, practiced in having to deal with society, but there's not any real warmth to his voice. He lets Erik in, then closes and locks the door behind him. Then he turns and makes his way into the living room. "Would you like a drink?"
Erik Samuelson:
"Water would be fine, thank you." He stepped further into the apartment once the door was handled, getting a feel for the man from what he surrounded himself with. "Before we get into the nitty gritty, how are you holding up?"
Simon DuBois:
He grabs a couple of fancy bottles of water from a fridge at the bar, and offers one over to him before settling down into an arm chair, legs crossing. "As well as can be expected," he replies vaguely.
Erik Samuelson:
He took the bottle with a quiet "thanks", claiming a seat for himself and nodding at Simon's response. "What happened, if you feel comfortable saying? Fox kept it vague when she reached out to me."
Simon DuBois:
He cracks open his bottle to sip from, then sets it aside on a table by the chair. "I was shot. Assassination attempt." A beat pause. "I suppose it wasn't just an attempt."
Erik Samuelson:
"Seems like it. Was a robbery gone wrong on my end; knife in the wrong place and off I went into the dark."
Simon DuBois:
"Dark," he echoes, lips pursing. "And you were brought back by a... ghost?"
Erik Samuelson:
"I was. Geist is the term that I was taught; basically a ghost potent enough to become something more of an archetype." He spared a glance behind his shoulder as the faint smell of fresh ash hit the air, although nothing manifested to accompany it just yet. "Been back for about two years now."
Simon DuBois:
"Is your life vastly different than what it was before?" he asks, settling back into the chair. "Do you even consider yourself alive? Or some manner of... undead?"
Erik Samuelson:
"Yes and no. I'm still going into work every day, trying to make my mark where I can, but I also help the dead that I come across resolve what's keeping them here and letting them go on to what's next for them." He took a sip of his water as he mulled the second question, keeping the bottle in hand for the moment. "Depends on who you ask. Some folks that I've talked to are of the 'we're not alive, just back' persuasion, which I don't quite agree with. Sure we see the world differently than before, maybe not as bright as it used to be, but we're alive in the ways that matter."
Simon DuBois:
"Mmm." A thoughtful sound, but he doesn't advertise any opinions he has on the alive or not topic yet. "The Dead. Ghosts?"
Erik Samuelson:
"Mmhmm. Most of the ones you'll likely come across will be stuck in a memory loop for lack of a better way to put it, reenacting their death or some other important moment in their life. With a little work you can break them out of the cycle and get an idea of what they're here for, and sometimes that sticks for long enough that they can pull themselves back together enough to be cognizant of the world around them."
Simon DuBois:
"I... see." He frowns. "I've read about ghosts, but don't have any experience. Will I be able to see them now?"
Erik Samuelson:
"Them and spirits that are aligned enough with death that they come up on our radar. Haven't had to deal with many of those yet, though."
Simon DuBois:
"That sounds... troublesome." He exhales a sigh. "Fox called us Sin-Eaters. Sounds rather...dramatic. Why?"
Erik Samuelson:
"It's a philosophy more than anything, putting the time we've been given towards righting what wrongs we can when it comes to the dead along with our own lingering wants. Anyone who's gone through what we have are referred to as Bound, but not all Bound are Sin-Eaters."
Simon DuBois:
Simon doesn't look very impressed. "Why not? Where is the difference?"
Erik Samuelson:
"Mainly in what you do with the second chance you've been given, and how you relate with the geist. Some see their other half as something to be controlled and chained to their will rather than respecting the person they once were, while others feel unduly entitled to a 'perfect' afterlife of their choosing and they'll stop at nothing to get it, or see the status quo as something that should never change, keeping the world in as near-stasis as they can manage."
Simon DuBois:
"So it's largely a... moral disagreement. Are those Bound who aren't Sin-Eaters considered your enemy?"
Erik Samuelson:
"Enemy is a hard word for it, but we do butt heads from time to time if what they're doing causes harm to the folks we're trying to help."
Simon DuBois:
"That's good to know, then. I have enough enemies." He idly flicks off a bit of lint from his knee. "Are there others in the area, or just us two?"
Erik Samuelson:
"There's a handful that I've come across. I work out of the Old City primarily, which keeps me busy enough."
Simon DuBois:
"A handful? I'm getting the gist that we mostly tend to our own business, rather than having some sort of... hierarchy or government, like many other non-humans?"
Erik Samuelson:
"You'd be right. We do work in groups called krewes that forge connections between our respective geists into a more cohesive unit, but there's not much beyond that."
Simon DuBois:
"Suits me just fine," he mutters, picking up the bottle again. "I'm not a fan of taking orders."
He regards Erik quietly for a moment, keeping the bottle in his hands to idly toy with. "You're a chef, aren't you?"
Erik Samuelson:
Erik smiled a touch at that, nodding at the question that followed. "I am. Worked in kitchens in some form or fashion for the last twenty years or so."
Simon DuBois:
"I think I've tried your cooking before," Simon muses, thinking back. "Something of a food snob, you could say."
Erik Samuelson:
"Maybe. I've been the head chef at Fork in Old City for close to four years now, and worked in a few other places before that." He nodded, taking a sip of his water. "I always appreciate a discerning palate, though."
Simon DuBois:
"Fork. Right. I tried it not long after you took over as head chef. I don't recall it being a bad experience." Which is.... maybe a compliment...? He's sure not good at giving compliments, if so.
"In any case, is there anything else you think I should know immediately?"
Erik Samuelson:
"I'll take that." He smiled a touch, thinking a moment. "As much as you two are together at the moment, your geist is still its own being. It's going to have wants and needs of its own, and as you connect further with them you'll be able to work together towards them rather than feeling like they're wanting to drag you along. You'll also be impacted by their own weaknesses; what serves as their bane can kill you again just as easily, and there's no getting up a second time after that. Just about anything else they can bring you back from, but it always cost a life in return."
"On the plus side you do have access to some particular abilities beyond the numina that ghosts can call upon. Your geist can likely guide you there. On that note, have you...talked with them yet, or is it more of a non-verbal thing?"
Simon DuBois:
His brows lift at the thought of being brought back from just about anything. Well, that is useful, at least.
"She is... quiet, mostly. I'm not sure she even can speak. Not directly, at least. Occasionally I will hear... whispers, especially if I'm in a crowd. It's all rather... spooky." He sighs. "I'm not... completely unused to having a presence constantly around, though. Before my death, my body housed an... entity. More... parasite than partner, as it seems she can be."
"I have... attempted some communication, but not a great deal, yet. To be quite honest, I have spent most of the time since my death sleeping." He takes a sip of water. "Best sleep I've ever had, if you'd believe it."
Erik Samuelson:
"Interesting...glad you were able to get rid of it, even if it wasn't the best of circumstances." He offered a nod. "Mine doesn't talk per se, but he gets his point across."
"Understandable. It's a lot to recover from, even if we come back to in one piece physically."
Simon DuBois:
"It is... a relief." He laughs softly, though it's a bitter sound. "She's by far a better roommate, must say. I'm enjoying the quiet."
"All in all... it certainly seems like dying was the best thing that could have happened to me. But I am... naturally cautious. Things that seem too good to be true... I'm sure there must be some great downside to all of this."
Erik Samuelson:
"There are some things that weigh more than most." He sat back in his seat, looking Simon over. "For me, at least, it comes from seeing what the world does to both the living and the dead and feeling the need to change that, even in some small way, that gives them peace they wouldn't have otherwise."
"That and the lands Below are not an easy thing to traverse, and there's certain information or abilities that you can only learn there."
Simon DuBois:
"...Below?"
Erik Samuelson:
"The Underworld." He motioned downward briefly. "It's something accessible through what we call Avernian Gates, where the dead who no longer have anchors to the living world end up. The farther in you go there are rivers you have to cross, each with a price of their own, and the realms beyond them have their own guardians and denizens to deal with."
Simon DuBois:
He looks slooowly downwards, towards the floor, and... stares. His lips purse tightly, doubtful. "...The Underworld. Any mythical stories hold true about it? Rivers sounds... Greek, maybe."
Erik Samuelson:
"Some of them, yeah; ferrymen, the living need to be careful about eating the food down there, that sort of thing. The five Greek rivers are a thing, along with some from Mesoamerican, Chinese and other legends around the world."
Simon DuBois:
"...Fascinating," he murmurs, still staring at the ground, brows high. He looks very intrigued, but after a moment he shakes his head slowly. "Seems like something to explore once I've mastered... everything else, though. I imagine it's dangerous."
Erik Samuelson:
"It can be, both from the terrain and what you might come across there. The bigger badder stuff is usually past the rivers, but even the normal dead can cause issues if they get riled up enough. There's some interesting stuff down there, though, so it's usually worth the trip."
Simon DuBois:
"Do you go down there often?" he asks, more curious.
Erik Samuelson:
"Not like on a weekly basis or anything, but I've been down there a decent bit. Had to do some runs to learn a few of the abilities we can pick up, along with doing some digging for matters involving certain ghosts topside."
Simon DuBois:
His fingers lightly tap the top of the armrest, looking lost in thought for a moment. He looks out the window, staring out at the city below. "Interesting. These abilities we have... Are they unique to us and our... partners, or do they all follow the same methodology?"
Erik Samuelson:
"More the latter. Some of them are easier to learn, though, since they harmonize with our respective Bargain. The main one I started with, for example, is keyed towards the memories that seep into places when something notable happens within them. Others allow the geist to merge physically with you, allowing you to shift your body in different ways as desired, or being able to conjure up facsimiles of destroyed or damaged items. It's an interesting grab-bag, for sure."
Simon DuBois:
Simon's eyes glint with greedy interest at the thought of that sort of power. "Fascinating. I will have to... experiment." His fingers steeple together like he's thinking of evil plans. "Do we... have to do anything to power ourselves? Like vampires have to drink the blood of the living."
Erik Samuelson:
Seeing that glint Erik smirked a touch, giving Simon a quiet look. "Said replicas don't last long, as a heads up. Couple days at most."
"We can tap into a form of solidified Essence called Plasm, which you can get in a few different ways. The main one is places touched by death - cemeteries, sites of notable murders, things of that nature. There's certain ceremonies that can restore it as well, along with tapping into certain...aspects of death, for lack of a better way to put it, normally referred to as Keys. There are certain ones that resonate with you depending on how you and your geist came into all of this; she should be able to guide you better on that front. Using those Keys can also enhance our abilities when we use them, but you can just tap into the key if you need a quick top-off, although it does come with a bit of a whammy depending on the key in question."
Simon DuBois:
"I foresee a lot of experimentation in my future," he mutters distractedly, then shakes his head. "I think... I've prodded your brain enough for one day. This is a lot to process. And I'm... quite eager to test the extents of my abilities." He pushes up to his feet. "But I am grateful for you coming to educate me. I can pay you for your time..?"
Erik Samuelson:
"If you have any further questions that she's not able to answer you know how to get a hold of me." He nodded as he stood, waving off the offer for payment. "No problem, and not necessary. Someone did the same thing for me when I came back, and I'm happy to pay it forward."
Simon DuBois:
"That's generous of you, then." He nods. "I'll be in touch, I'm sure. And likewise... If I can return the favor, let me know." He steps forward and offers his hand. "Was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Samuelson."
Erik Samuelson:
"Will do," he said as he took the offered hand and gave it a shake, "and you as well. Welcome to this side of the weird."
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