[Ford nods, processing all of that. So, a pantheon of primal fears, some related, some opposites, all of whom with agents in the world with powers relating to them.
The earliest fear was the Hunt, one that even man can easily relate to. The other is... well-
[ He can't help but wince.]
The Flesh. The fear of animals put into factory farms, the miasma of emotion around an entire life dedicated to the production of meat. It... it usually expresses itself rather, er, unpleasantly.
So, how does anything in your world get done? With fourteen of these things running around trying to use their agents to bring themselves onto the physical plane, it must be unbelievably chaotic.
My predecessor put most of her efforts to preventing the rituals of the various entities. Apparently, it can take centuries to work towards one of them, and it seems as if she stopped at least two in her career, probably more. She was, however, murdered.
[ He breathes in and out and runs a hand through his hair.]
There's also the fact that the various entities... well, they work against each other at times. It's all very... er, political, in its way.
[Whoof. Fourteen different Weirdmageddons. Fourteen Bills, all with shifting alliances and sabotages. That's a headache Ford's glad he doesn't have. Actually, he should ask--]
And these entities. Do they pose a danger to the multiverse as a whole, or are their activities limited to just your dimension?
Hm. Bill would probably know. He's been around a very long time, and if anyone's seen fourteen other entities like him floating around terrorizing the multiverse, it'd be him.
And you think you can trust any answer he'd provide?
[ Sorry, that sounds like literally the worst idea he's ever heard. The continual Escher staircase of trying to figure out which direction of fucking with the little polygon might be coming from is not how he'd like to spend the rest of his time here.]
[Ford turns to look at Jon, and his expression is an odd, wry sort of surprise.]
Huh. You know, it's nice to hear someone take him seriously for a change.
When I first got here, it was all, "oh, of course we can't trust him but it's FINE to listen to him," or "I know but he's my friend!" or "don't worry, I can handle it."
...actually, it was more "don't shoot him on sight," but once I cleared up his initial misinformation campaign, that was the general opinion. Except for Tris, of course, but she'd seen what he was capable of firsthand and wasn't taking any chances.
[ He sucks in a breath and lets it out again, rubbing at the bridge of his nose for a moment before he can even consider letting out words that aren't annoyed snarling at the very idea of some of the things that Ford's said.]
I've heard similar defenses. And while I... I know that people aren't stupid, I think they're so used to seeing him as this neutered little... little annoyance that they can't actually comprehend the fact that whatever he pretends to be, he's something so far outside of the scope of what a person actually is that any sort of relationship he might have is- is ultimately just a- a- a mimed parody performed by something that knows us only well enough to be aware that we let our guard down when we think we can talk to it.
[ Huff.]
Of course I take him seriously. He's almost worse.
[Ford listens to that very quietly. It is a very, very smart approach. Jon has it absolutely right. That's the safest way to treat him.]
There's a number of ways to get a truthful answer out of him. One of the most reliable ones is to get him angry! When he loses his temper, sometimes he says more than he means to.
...but asking him to put on the truth ring is safer. He got it from another passenger, some warden I never met. It lights up when he's telling a lie. I was skeptical at first, of course, but I've seen it work in the kinds of situations where it's, ah, hard to deny its reliability. Of course, if Bill tells you anything, it's because that's what he wants you to know even if it's true, but I don't think the ring can be influenced directly.
[ The mention of the ring... that definitely calls his attention. Definitely, has him wondering. A truth 'ring'. He wonders if it's some manner of artifact of the Beholding.]
Curious.
[ He lets that hang for a moment before-]
I can... there's something I can do that's, er, something like that. I'm not sure it would work on him. With the, that is, given the 'convergent' evolution.
[Jon can detect lies, like agents of the Desolation can generate extreme heat? Oh, that is interesting. It would be convenient if it worked on Bill, wouldn't it. Of course Ford isn't that lucky.]
Yes, he did. I suppose Bill told enough lies that he wanted a way to prove that what he was saying was the truth. Instead of everyone mistrusting anything he says on principle if a flood isn't involved.
[An afterthought:]
You can trust what he says while he's singing, but only if the rest of the barge is doing it, and he isn't doing the accompaniment himself.
If I know anything, Mr. Pines, it is that absolute truth is no guarantee that the information is anything but harmful. And that monsters can wield such things with just as much precision and attempt to harm as one might wield lies.
[ He sucks in a breath and lets it out rather tiredly.]
All the same, I am actually rather glad at making people mad at me, so we'll have to give that a go sometime.
[Ford crosses the floor to the multicolored, glittery smear.]
All right. Let's see what he was up to.
[Ford scans the area. The scanner beeps. He examines the display, then draws his eyebrows together.]
Nothing. At least, nothing that shouldn't be here.
[Ford turns it around to show Jon the display: it's a little flashing admiral's hat, with a bar gauge to the side falling safely between two parallel lines indicating normal. Press a toggle button, and it will run through all the physical substances it detected: nothing but wood and the chemical components of ordinary nail polish.]
[ He watches the meter curiously but he doesn't say anything until Ford is done with his explanation. Then he frowns and looks at the spot on the floor again.]
I'm curious how... lingering the power in your world is. Where I'm from, we've never noticed any particular- once the item is no longer there, the energy is gone too.
[ He looks over at Ford curiously, because this kind of study is a bit beyond him. The way things work in their respective worlds is different but some things he can at least guess on.]
Is it possible he's amassing something, some sort of power?
[Ford looks at Jon, and there's something surprised, and then something a little bit hopeless, in his face.]
It is entirely possible.
Whether or not we should be worried about that depends on how much you trust the Admiral. I've been told that when his safeguards work, they work. He's managed to keep Bill contained this long, and no one on the ship seems to believe Bill could get up to anything too serious.
But then again, the Admiral forced us all on board a stolen ship when his performance review went badly, and now we're on the run from the otherworldly beings he answers to, so I'm surprised anyone trusts the Admiral at all, anymore.
The Admiral offers devil's bargains behind the rest of reality's back and meddles with the souls of the dead. If I had any other choice, I wouldn't be here, but given that the only thing of any certainty seems to be that he fulfills said bargains, here I am. 'Trust' is not a word I'd use in regards to him, however.
[ ...actually, to be perfectly frank?]
...also, 'the Admiral' is the name of my friend Georgie's cat so I honestly can't take the damn thing seriously.
[ He clears his throat.]
The fact of the matter is, just because something has been contained doesn't mean that it will remain so. Either through incompetence or pure, unfortunate, luck.
[Ford gives a sad sort of chuckle at the mention of the cat. If he were still journaling, that's the sort of thing he'd be tempted to draw. Or maybe Mabel would. He saw some of her cat-icatures. Remarkable likenesses. She's such a talented artist.
But the levity fades as quickly as it came.]
I don't think anything can contain Bill forever. Not if he doesn't want to be. He's very old, very cunning, and unbelievably patient. If there's a weakness, he'll find it.
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He follows so far.]
Animal fears? What are animals afraid of?
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[ He can't help but wince.]
The Flesh. The fear of animals put into factory farms, the miasma of emotion around an entire life dedicated to the production of meat. It... it usually expresses itself rather, er, unpleasantly.
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Yes, I can imagine how that would get...messy.
So, how does anything in your world get done? With fourteen of these things running around trying to use their agents to bring themselves onto the physical plane, it must be unbelievably chaotic.
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My predecessor put most of her efforts to preventing the rituals of the various entities. Apparently, it can take centuries to work towards one of them, and it seems as if she stopped at least two in her career, probably more. She was, however, murdered.
[ He breathes in and out and runs a hand through his hair.]
There's also the fact that the various entities... well, they work against each other at times. It's all very... er, political, in its way.
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And these entities. Do they pose a danger to the multiverse as a whole, or are their activities limited to just your dimension?
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[ He spreads his hands earnestly. ]
Before this place, I was unfamiliar with the 'multiverse'.
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[ Sorry, that sounds like literally the worst idea he's ever heard. The continual Escher staircase of trying to figure out which direction of fucking with the little polygon might be coming from is not how he'd like to spend the rest of his time here.]
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Huh. You know, it's nice to hear someone take him seriously for a change.
When I first got here, it was all, "oh, of course we can't trust him but it's FINE to listen to him," or "I know but he's my friend!" or "don't worry, I can handle it."
...actually, it was more "don't shoot him on sight," but once I cleared up his initial misinformation campaign, that was the general opinion. Except for Tris, of course, but she'd seen what he was capable of firsthand and wasn't taking any chances.
[Smart girl.]
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[ He sucks in a breath and lets it out again, rubbing at the bridge of his nose for a moment before he can even consider letting out words that aren't annoyed snarling at the very idea of some of the things that Ford's said.]
I've heard similar defenses. And while I... I know that people aren't stupid, I think they're so used to seeing him as this neutered little... little annoyance that they can't actually comprehend the fact that whatever he pretends to be, he's something so far outside of the scope of what a person actually is that any sort of relationship he might have is- is ultimately just a- a- a mimed parody performed by something that knows us only well enough to be aware that we let our guard down when we think we can talk to it.
[ Huff.]
Of course I take him seriously. He's almost worse.
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There's a number of ways to get a truthful answer out of him. One of the most reliable ones is to get him angry! When he loses his temper, sometimes he says more than he means to.
...but asking him to put on the truth ring is safer. He got it from another passenger, some warden I never met. It lights up when he's telling a lie. I was skeptical at first, of course, but I've seen it work in the kinds of situations where it's, ah, hard to deny its reliability. Of course, if Bill tells you anything, it's because that's what he wants you to know even if it's true, but I don't think the ring can be influenced directly.
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Definitely, has him wondering. A truth 'ring'. He wonders if it's some manner of artifact of the Beholding.]
Curious.
[ He lets that hang for a moment before-]
I can... there's something I can do that's, er, something like that. I'm not sure it would work on him. With the, that is, given the 'convergent' evolution.
[ But wait a minute-]
A warden gave it to him?
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Yes, he did. I suppose Bill told enough lies that he wanted a way to prove that what he was saying was the truth. Instead of everyone mistrusting anything he says on principle if a flood isn't involved.
[An afterthought:]
You can trust what he says while he's singing, but only if the rest of the barge is doing it, and he isn't doing the accompaniment himself.
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[ He sucks in a breath and lets it out rather tiredly.]
All the same, I am actually rather glad at making people mad at me, so we'll have to give that a go sometime.
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Still...given the choice, he'd rather have the truth.]
Be my guest! This would be the best place to do it, since none of us can die permanently here.
[Ford pushes open the door to the spa, scanner out and ready.]
On the Barge, I mean. I don't believe this spa can bring you back to life, though I admit I haven't tried it.
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I'd prefer if we had a purpose, of course. I don't actually enjoy being stabbed. Or... whatever else he might do.
[ He does remember the spot rather exactly, and he points towards where it is was/is on the floor.]
He was working there.
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All right. Let's see what he was up to.
[Ford scans the area. The scanner beeps. He examines the display, then draws his eyebrows together.]
Nothing. At least, nothing that shouldn't be here.
[Ford turns it around to show Jon the display: it's a little flashing admiral's hat, with a bar gauge to the side falling safely between two parallel lines indicating normal. Press a toggle button, and it will run through all the physical substances it detected: nothing but wood and the chemical components of ordinary nail polish.]
Just ambient Barge energy at normal levels.
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I'm curious how... lingering the power in your world is. Where I'm from, we've never noticed any particular- once the item is no longer there, the energy is gone too.
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It depends. I've found that there are many different kinds of magic, each with its own unique, and often confusing, rules. It's usually worth a shot.
[Ford looks back at the readout.]
Either whatever it was Bill was casting vanished without a trace, or no magic happened here at all.
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[ He looks over at Ford curiously, because this kind of study is a bit beyond him. The way things work in their respective worlds is different but some things he can at least guess on.]
Is it possible he's amassing something, some sort of power?
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It is entirely possible.
Whether or not we should be worried about that depends on how much you trust the Admiral. I've been told that when his safeguards work, they work. He's managed to keep Bill contained this long, and no one on the ship seems to believe Bill could get up to anything too serious.
But then again, the Admiral forced us all on board a stolen ship when his performance review went badly, and now we're on the run from the otherworldly beings he answers to, so I'm surprised anyone trusts the Admiral at all, anymore.
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[ ...actually, to be perfectly frank?]
...also, 'the Admiral' is the name of my friend Georgie's cat so I honestly can't take the damn thing seriously.
[ He clears his throat.]
The fact of the matter is, just because something has been contained doesn't mean that it will remain so. Either through incompetence or pure, unfortunate, luck.
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But the levity fades as quickly as it came.]
I don't think anything can contain Bill forever. Not if he doesn't want to be. He's very old, very cunning, and unbelievably patient. If there's a weakness, he'll find it.
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[ Because the rules for inmates, well, that is rather curious. He'd have thought something like Bill to be rather, er, deathless.]
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I do. I was there for it. I pulled the trigger that erased him from our reality.
[The sadness in his tone makes it very clear that this was not a moment of heroic triumph.]
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