It's a bar. There appears to be no one there. The window is... impressive.

The door opens, and a man steps through. He stops, blinking in confusion: clearly he wasn't expecting a bar either. When the door starts to swing shut behind him, he whirls, dissolving into the air like smoke; but apparently he's too slow to catch it, because it shuts and he materializes again and slams his fist against the wood. His knuckles bleed; the door is affected not at all.

Next he tries turning into a pillar of searing flame. That doesn't work either.

Well, that's alarming.

She could stay invisible and watch, she supposes, but lurking around invisible is sort of not a great way to assure someone that's clearly annoyed that she's got the best intentions in mind. Sort of a pity to waste the spell, but she's not really great at stealth, anyway.

"Excuse me," she says, dropping the spell and fading into visibility. "Please don't burn the bar down with me in it, even if the door did something to upset you."

The pillar of flame twists and swirls and turns back into a man, staring very intently at her.

Ciaveth raises her eyebrows slightly, nonplussed. Maybe she should have stayed invisible.

"... Yes?"

"What's your name?"

Polite, isn't he, grouses Gann.

"Ciaveth Farlong. Might I know yours?"

"Serik Tanaikon. You look very much like my—" what word does he even use? "—like someone I know."

'My'?

"... Okay. One of us might be caught in some kind of illusion, or - something. Just to confirm - red hair, pale skin, tall-ish, slightly pointy ears..?"

"Yes, that's an accurate description of you."

"So, not some kind of illusion, probably." Pause. "When you say very much, are we talking long-lost-sister very much or creepily accurate doppelganger very much?"

"You look exactly like she would if she shrank a few inches, transformed her ears for some reason, and then didn't sleep for a week."

"I think it'd take a bit longer than just a week to get to my level of sleep deprived," she says, dry. "So, creepily accurate human doppelganger. Okay. Sure. My life can get weirder."

"You all right?"

Shrug.

"I've been worse."

"Need any help with anything?"

"... I have a curse on me. It's unpleasant and invariably lethal. I'm going to fix it anyway. I'm pretty happy to accept any offered help."

"That sounds like the kind of thing I might be able to help with. What kind of curse?"

"It's called the spirit eater curse. It's - pretty unique. Only one spirit eater at a time, in fact. I have an insatiable hunger for souls. The more I eat, the hungrier I get, and if I don't, it starts nibbling on me. And if I die it passes on to the nearest person to start again, and on and on it goes. Making monsters of - almost everyone it worms its way into."

"Sounds annoying."

"Yes."

"Well, I'm happy to help. Not sure how yet, but I'm the next thing to omnipotent, I'm sure I'll figure something out."

Eyebrow raise.

"Want to help me find a dead god and shake him down for answers?"

"Hmm... that depends. How long is it likely to take?"

"I don't know - speed's kind of a priority, considering, but I can't actually say how long it'll take to track down the dead god in question. Why?"

"Well, I have a mildly annoying problem myself," he admits, "in that if I go longer than a few weeks without torturing anyone I'll explode."

"That sounds inconvenient. What level of torture are we talking about here?"

"It's entirely my own stupid fault, but yes, it's pretty inconvenient at the moment considering I'm trapped in this bar. So if it was going to take longer than a week to find your dead god, I'd need some kind of solution to my own problem first. I'm really not sure how to describe levels of torture. Enough pain to make for the worst few hours of someone's life, if they've never met me before."

"... Entirely your own fault?"

"It's a long story and you may not like me very much at the end of it."

"I might not, no. You don't have to tell me if you'd rather not." Though she can guess. "And if it's any comfort, I guarantee that I have managed to successfully work with people that I've hated way more than I'll likely ever be able to hate you. Barring circumstances such as you kidnapping and torturing people I care about, mind."

"As far as I know, I've never kidnapped and tortured anyone you care about, and I certainly don't intend to start," he says. "I - care very much for the person you remind me of."

She smiles at him.

"See? We'll get along fine." She finds a chair and sits down. "... What's the person I remind you of like?"

"...Scholarly, organized, sensible, responsible, straightforward, witty, clever, kind."

Is that love I see? observes Gann.

Looks kinda shaped like it, she agrees.

"Sounds like I'd like her."

Sounds familiar, dear knight.

"... How much am I reminding you of her?"

"Kind of unsettlingly so."

"Um. ... That sounds terribly awkward for you, sorry?"

He shrugs. "It doesn't appear to be your fault. Anyway, I was going to tell you the story of my grand mistake."

He pulls up a chair and sits.

"My father was the Last Emperor - I'm going to guess you have no idea who I mean?"

"Not aside from the meaning in the obvious combination of the adjective and the noun, no."

"So. He ruled the Ansati Empire, which spanned the world. I was young and stupid and had a lot of - unhealthy ideas about what kind of person I should be, and I thought the kind of person I should be would want my father's empire badly enough to kill him for it, so I did that. The resulting civil war got nasty, a lot of people died, and instead of taking his empire I ended up destroying it. And I realized belatedly that I would've made a terrible Emperor anyway and wouldn't even have enjoyed it much. So, well - I asked myself what I really wanted, and it was... power but not the imperial kind of power, not the kind that comes with responsibilities, just the ability to get what I want. So I went up a mountain and built myself a castle and used what was left of the magic I'd been trying to take over the Empire with to make myself immortal. Thing is, the kind of magic that yields that kind of power is fueled by pain. And the way I built that immortality, I have to keep fueling it, or it goes unstable and - well, by this point, probably melts the entire mountain and splashes it across the countryside."

He shrugs.

"I like torturing people, it didn't seem much of a burden at the time. And it's been three thousand years without a problem until now."

"So, a few hours of unfathomable torture from - innocent victims, is the implication I'm getting? - per week, over three thousand years."

She considers.

"While I don't want to imply that I'm okay with any of that, I really think you're not going to make my top five for people I despise. You're too - reasonable. Am I correct in thinking I can just find you something approximating appropriate torture victims and you'll just happily accept it?"

"Considering I don't currently have access to any torture victims at all and I kind of need them, I'm not at all inclined to be picky if you find me some," he says wryly. "I don't get out anything out of them being innocent victims in particular instead of, I don't know, people who really like being tortured."

"That might be hard with the level of torture, but I'll see what I can do. At the very least I can probably throw you some very terrible people, if I can't find a volunteer or two. Which I'd prefer, but I'll take really terrible person over innocent victim."

Pity we killed the hags, observes Gann. It would have been very ironic.

... Ciaveth starts giggling.

Serik raises his eyebrows slightly.

"Sorry, I'm laughing at something my -" what does she call him, "- companion said. We have a magical mental bond, and now he commentates my life."

He smiles. "That sounds like fun."

You have no idea.

"Yeah. We'd expected the bond to evaporate once we stopped needing it to not die, except then we both turned out to like having it? So it stayed."

"Aww."

She smiles fondly.

"Anyway. I trust I can set you up with some torture victims. If we absolutely can't get anyone else -" Ciaveth. No. "- terrible people seem to gravitate towards me, so."

That had not been what she had almost said, but she'll take Gann's point. She has been enough of a punching bag lately, and shouldn't happily volunteer for unfathomable torture just on account of having a high pain tolerance.

And I'd find it upsetting.

And Gann would find it upsetting.

He gives her a thoughtful look, like he can guess what almost came out there.

"Thanks. I appreciate it."