Glass Dolls

All About Atlantis! - 4

"How many cities have you razed for the greater good? How many innocent have fallen due to your selfish whims?"

From The Interrogations of Prisoner 0 held by Conductor Velvette.

Level of Refraction: -189 degrees.

Mold sits in the plush, velvet chair with her legs crossed. She's still in the new swimsuit she got, so naturally the fancy restaurant's air conditioning is going to get a little bit chilly. Of course, her mind isn't really on this, especially since she can deal with much more physical discomfort than someone with a mortal background. No, she's still focused on what Xōchiquetzal told her earlier. The red wine swirling around in the glass in her hand is getting dangerously close to the edge, and Ego clears his throat.

She blinks and takes a sip.

The Author is just happy that all of this is over. Well, for him at least. He gazes out of the 30th floor window at the beach on the horizon. The sun has since fallen beneath the waves, but Atlantis is still seated offshore, an eerie siren blaring out from its depths. If the humans down below realize that this is a call for war preparation then they sure don't act like it. It seems as though they have decided the new ocean arrival makes for a pretty cool spot to party under, so at least the restaurant Mold brought him to is deserted. The Author sips his wine as well, then wrinkles his nose when the flavor reaches the roof of his mouth.

"Did you have the grand old time that you wanted?" He asks. "I mean, I couldn't even have predicted the whole Atlantis thing. I almost wish I was... in a better mood to properly appreciate it."

"No you don't." Mold says flatly. "Atlanteans are obnoxious and they smell bad."

"Fair enough."

...

"So," Mold says, still staring out the window. "Tell me about what exactly it is you do."

"Now come on, we haven't even eaten yet!" The Author says with a grin. Man, it's nice not having interdimensional horrors burrowing into your guts.

"I don't care. We're here, at dinner. Spill it, I'm in no mood to continue playing along with your little charade."

Mold watches Ego out of the corner of her eye as his face draws into a properly serious expression.

"Fine." He says. "But if you bother me with stupid questions then I'll just stop talking immediately."

"As if I would ever have any desire to interrupt your dulcet tones."

"...Okay. When I was making this world, I mean, the one that eventually branched into all these parallel worlds, I didn't quite have... a plan for what it would end up being, exactly. As such, there are a lot of unfishished systems or pointless rules in place that just get in the way and lead to headaches more than create an interesting place to live. For example, I never designed an afterlife. Properly. Only refracted realms that have a developed system of belief have used what I started as a basis and rolled with it. Otherwise if you're unfortunate enough to come from a world without a presiding god to dictate what happens during the long sleep then your consciousness just gets sent to an infinite expanse of clouds to roam about on."

"Some heaven."

"Yeah, you tell me." The Author grins unhappily, ignoring the disturbance to his tale. "Anyway, the point is one of these systems that I have in place. While I was throwing ideas around to see what stuck, I thought it would be a cool idea to have terrifying cosmic horrors born from the hearts and thoughts of mortals. You know, all that good stuff."