milliways_bar | (no subject)

[Not-quite-OOM, just prior: Physical therapy.]

"One more" turns into three more exercises by the time Gaeta departs the infirmary. Awful as he felt, it didn't feel right to leave off after so few; at least this way, he isn't wasting his or Dr. Tam's time with such a brief session.

Whether he'll be able to move from the couch he just collapsed on is another story. After requesting a glass of water from a waitrat, he gulps down three painkillers (the usual dose is two, but frak it, he hurts so much right now) before stretching along the couch's full length. Some minutes later, the same waitrat returns with a silver tray.

Gaeta eyes the tray's contents. "Um."

The rat chitters.

"Sorry for the language, but...what the frak is that?"

Squeak.

In lieu of pointing out that he doesn't speak rat, Gaeta just sighs, scoops up the small -- very colorful -- magazine, and opens it to take a look.

Apparently there's a tie-in comic book series for that famous squopera, Tentacles of Our Waves. Who knew.

[ooc: in and out for a bit, but back for good at 10 PM eastern!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Um..."

She looks away, as though counting them off in her mind.

"Ouranos turned me into a bird."

Beat. "But in a good way."

And she got better!

"And the - nature one that's part goat? And Medusa."

And Aphrodite bartends sometimes, but Elle doesn't know that's her name.

None of those click with the same kind of surety as a full-fledged Lord of Kobol. Faintly, he thinks Ouranos sounds familiar, at least.

(Gods, you would think he'd bother to learn more by now, considering Demeter's fondness of him.)

Gaeta chooses to focus on the really important part of these statements: "In a good way?" he echoes, rather blankly.

"Not - like in the stories? When they do it because they're mad?"

She glances down at the book. "Athena turns someone into a spider. And Artemis turns her friend into a bear. Because they're mad. But he wasn't."

Gaeta's confusion clears. "Oh."

That...makes sense, he guesses. As much as any story about the gods can make sense, when one chooses to take them literally.

"I'm glad," he says, trying not to sound too much like he's floundering for words. "I've heard they, ah. They can do a lot of damage if they put their minds to it."

She shrugs.

"Some people in my world are kind of like them."

Elle's an example of that herself, after all.

"Right, so they can..." He trails off, struggling to think. Did she ever mention that before? That there were other people who could do the same things she could do?

What he unearths instead is her name: Elle. He remembers. Thank the gods he remembers something, at least.

"It's not always like, um." He makes an absent gesture with one hand. "Like the electricity though, right?"

She shakes her head.

"My Dad was, um..."

Elle reaches for the book, and gently slides the pages over, until they get to the Ms, and then -

"- like this one."

The page is titled 'Midas.' Not a god, just a king.

"But he could control it," she adds.

Gaeta skims the entry, skims it again to make the words sink in, and then:

"Oh," he breathes. "Wow. That's..." He glances up at Elle. "That's pretty incredible."

Her expression doesn't change, though she gives a half-shrug.

"There are a lot of us. And we - mostly do different things."

"Are there any...I don't know, clearly defined categories of what people can do? Or is it just random?"

She looks down at the floor, leaning her head against her shoulder.

"Sometimes people's are similar."

Her eyes glance back to him.

"It's - genetic. And how it works is - different. Depending on the person."

Gaeta nods.

(And feels a tiny, distant pang at the mention of genetic. That's far too long ago, now; it's far too late.)

Elle watches him for a moment.

Then - "But we're really not gods."

In case that was unclear.

"Yeah." His mouth quirks. "I kinda figured that out."

He glances down to the book, thinking.

Quieter: "You know, if I hadn't met some of the gods here already, I'd wonder if they...I don't know, if people like you existed back on Kobol. And somebody just frakked up there and thought you were gods, because they didn't know any better. Everybody's always talking about how human the gods are and how they have the same flaws as all the rest of us."

Lightly, his fingers skim the book.

"Maybe they could have been."

"But we wouldn't be there anymore," she answers, just as quiet.

"Be where?"

He doesn't look up from the book.

"Kobol?"

"Anywhere."

Beat. "If you don't have us now."

"Yeah."

He turns a page, not even really seeing the words anymore.

"If we did," he says after a moment, "maybe we will again."

"Maybe."

She looks back to the book. "But we're not all that great. In that, either."

"Yeah, nobody ever really comes out of anything looking their best," he mumbles.

And, finally, he looks up.

Elle doesn't really know if that's true or not.

But, seriously - "I'd be a really bad god."

And, what, queen of them just because she can make lightning? Even Elle knows it's a terrible idea.

That gets something approximating a dry huff of laughter.

"I probably would, too," he says as he closes the book. "Um. If I could do anything like you can, I mean."

Elle looks back to the book.

"I guess you don't need that one."

If they're already in his world.