The City

Chilili Crow-Dog was not interested in being civil. In fact, every molecule in her body wanted to rebel. Who were they to tell her what to do? Gods? Wasn't it Nietzsche that said God was dead? And we have killed him, he said, how shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? Her strides became longer, as if her feet were running away from her busy brain. Why was she thinking about Nietzsche? She didn't exactly care for the syphilitic philosopher. Without reason, she turned around as if she expected someone to appear. No one was around... except for Infinitious. “Crap,” she muttered to herself. Chilili turned away. “Am I relevant now? How convenient!” she called behind her, “I was beginning to feel neglected... misused even! But now I can rest assured that the almighty gods are ready...” Her tone crackled with an electric bitterness. She cursed under her breath, catching the eye of a homeless man who gave her a quizzical look. “What?” she snapped at him and he quickly averted his eyes. Instantly, she felt bad. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't really anyone's fault. She agreed to this. No one else agreed for her. Chilili knew beforehand that many of the gods were willfully ignorant of humans. She had only herself to blame for this. She couldn't change their minds. They would not bend so she had to. Her pace slowed to a stop, a few feet away from the homeless man. She turned back towards him and said, “I'm sorry... I'm being tested by the gods... and it's making me a little crazy...” The words didn't quite come out right. In fact, they came out quite wrong. However the man nodded as if he too, had been in her shoes. “No problem,” he said, in a gruff voice, “Don't let 'em get your down,”

Chilili Crow-Dog Chilili laughed slightly, “That seems a little impossible... When you have a God tell you that you don't matter, that stardust is more important than your own life...who threatens to destroy you and everyone in the entire universe, this planet and maybe more... simply because you aren't what they wanted... How do you not feel like an abortion?” And the man raised his head towards the sky, as if consulting those gods. He stared at them for awhile. For a moment, Chilili believed he had moved on. Instead, he looked at her and gently rolled the words in his mouth before he gave them to her. “We're all stardust,” he said, “And if they made us... well, they gave us free will too... To believe in 'em or not, right?” Chilili nodded, leaning over closer. He scratched his grizzled beard, taking his time with his hypothesis. “We've passed the age when we, humans, need gods anymore, now haven't we?” he said, as if thinking out loud. He, too, seemed puzzled by this query and he continued, “I don't remember much but as a boy, I'd sit inna church and the man would say, know ye not that we are all god?... Yep...” Chilili nodded as he finished and crouched down to face him. She was hit the smell of old sweat and faint traces of smoke.

“How can we be?” she said. Only yesterday would it appear strange for her to discuss theology with a homeless man. But it was today. “We're all stardust,” he replied, as if that answered everything. And in a small way, it did. “Okay... I get it...” and she, too, looked up at the sky as if consulting her own gods. She pulled out her wallet and peered inside the dark folds. A sole dollar bill could be found inside and she offered it up to him. “Thanks for the advice,” she said, rising to her feet, “I'm Chilili... champion of mankind so to speak...” She smiled wryly. The man pocketed the dollar bill with little ceremony. “The name's Fred...” he said. She turned away, spotting Infinitious again. She ducked into a bookstore. She found being in the company of other humans made the gods more tolerable, more natural... And as she took a seat at the window, she found an book already waiting for. It was Human, All Too Human by Friedrich Nietzsche. Her brow furrowed as she looked out the window, thinking of Fred, the homeless man. “I'm being stalked by coincidences...”she said to herself. She didn't dare touch the book but instead looked around for Infinitious. She found herself looking for something bigger than her and an insular world that appeared to be ordering itself around her.

Danse Mors, Death peered from behind the Philosophy section of the bookstore to eye Chilili gleefully. He didn't actually need to be there. Danse felt himself above logic even though he, himself, was simply putting order to the chaos. However, in his opinion, nature was something different than logic. From the moment Chilili awoke and Infinitious gave his announcement, he had returned to his incarnation. His “mother” was quite pleased, having worried about his absence. Unfortunately, it did not release him from cat-sitting duties. Danse understood the idea of walking a dog as it was a messy and loud creature that needed to walk the perimeter of its domain with its human companion and a plastic bag... however, walking a cat was a little beyond him. The slinky black feline his mother called Mr. Cuddles, did not appreciate the leash as much as its canine counterpart. In fact, he seemed quite annoyed by it. His little fangs often tried to rip the leash apart but with no luck. Danse had considered letting the thing go but after the early demise of Sir Hugs-a-lot by a speeding car, he didn't dare let his host's mother lose another one. So Danse and Mr. Cuddles had settled on an uneasy alliance. In exchange for Mr. Cuddles' relative obedience, Danse referred to him as Doom. He seemed to enjoy that. So together, they stalked the alleyways until they could see the apartment. He waited until Infinitious arrived and spotted Edelia as well. He wondered how many more would descend on the unsuspecting victim of this challenge. He grimaced with a painful joy. Doom simply meowed with boredom. And for a long time, they simply waited. Neither consciously knew the objective but both knew they'd recognize the opportunity when it came.

Danse Mors, Death And it did. As Chilili walked out in a huff of human emotion and angst, Danse made his move. Creepy along the shadows with the feline, they made their way along the other side of the street. He could recognize the air of hopelessness and despair anywhere. This was, after all, his department. Any minute now, Infinitious would be on her toes. He would catch her beforehand. He had to. And then he saw her stop to speak to a homeless man on the sidewalk. Nonchalantly, he crossed the street, tugging at Doom to follow. He crept near the entrance of the bookstore and listened in on her quandaries. The feline began to bite at his toes. As if the creature was in league with the human, it seemed to believe that she deserved to work out her problems in private. Danse gave it a stern look but cats were not as susceptible to being creeped out by Death as people were. Doom merely licked his paw. At a loss, Danse entered the book store. He made his way to his favorite section and was waiting for Chilili. And there she was, like a plucked chicken on a platter. But he didn't make a move. Not yet...

Maisie, full name Margeret fluttered her wings impatiently. She was in her natural form, stretching and preening as one does when they've just exited an uncomfortable costume. Her host busilly stocked books below, very aware of Maisie above her. Maisie had never been one for force and in her opinion the humans deserved much better than they were given, and so the posession was voluntary and mutual. She had done some favors for the girl she inhabited, Margaret. Ever one for appropriateness, the names matched perfectly.

Maisie, full name Margeret It was symbiosis. Give and take. And Margaret had gotten as restless as Maisie. So they seperated for the time being, under the condition that Margaret stayed out of the sight of Chilili. But now, upon removing the Complete Works of Shakespeare from a shelf, Margaret saw through the empty space Chilili's distinctive face. She couldn't be sure; having a god inside you was like having your blood replaced with the pure force of a nuetron star, and with a heartbeat that fast, her vision was often blurred. But she was sure enough to panic. She grabbed the nearest small object, a pen, and threw it at the bird above her head.

Maisie, full name Margeret was hit in the face and let out a loud sqwaking shriek. As she fell in a tumble to the floor, trying in vain to regain some control over her descent, she caught a glimpse of Margaret's panic, and then hit the floor with a dull thud and blacked out for a moment. Birds are so delicate a form.

Chilili Crow-Dog's head popped up from her reverie of thought with the sound of a loud squawk. She stood, instantly poised for some nuclear disaster. Maybe that was the first challenge; a nuclear disaster? Possible... However, what would it prove? But no... nothing seemed different or at least nuclear. She toured through the aisles and found a fallen bird. “Oh no!” she said aloud, kneeling down towards the small animal. It was a magpie. The poor thing seemed to be knocked out. She reached out a hand to softly stroke the bird in hopes of reviving it. Chilili shook her head. “It must be so far from home,” she said quietly to herself. The pen that lay near was neglected however as Chilili rose her head to seek help, she saw Margaret, believing her to be Maisie. Initially she was startled but she got over it quickly. “Did you see what happened?” she said, “Can you do anything?” As she waited for an answer, she noticed the book in Margaret's hand. It was Shakespeare, an author she hadn't read since High School. She spent many bored nights slogging through language she hardly understood. And yet at the moment, she recalled a line from Hamlet, There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow... She looked around her as if expecting something. What it was, she didn't know.

Maisie, full name Margeret fluttered awake, here eyes focusing and unfocusing like a camera zooming in and out. Margaret looked shocked, but she also felt foreign hands supporting her, and she struggled to right herself so she could see. Margaret remained stationary, petrified, and unmoving, knees locked together and gripping the bookcase for support like a never-been-kissed girl asked to dance at prom. Maise finally spun enough to see her rescuer's face, and upon recognizing the stern nose and bright eyes let out another sqwuak and sucked back into Margaret's body. She passed through Margaret's face and dissolved into smoke, and Margaret's posture slackened and her face took up a much less frightened, although still causious look.

Maisie, full name Margeret "I shouldn't be here. Why aren't you with Infinitous calculating pi, or some such?" As Maisie straightened, her hands absentmindedly found her pockets, feeling the bus ticket and pack of gum that now accompanied her bag of charms. She smiled an internal smile and fingered two of the plastic birds in the bag.

Chilili Crow-Dog simply blinked up at the girl. “What was... Did I just see...? Oh nevermind...” she said. Suffice to say, she was a little disappointed the bird was not indeed a bird. Animals she could handle. Animals had empathy. She took a moment to get to her feet and look down up what she assumed was a god. However the line began to blur a bit for her. “Calculate pi I could do... Somehow I don't think pi is what he had in mind... I lost him in the street,” she said, then paused for a moment, trying to judge whether she could talk to Maisie like she could talk to anyone else. “It's a little difficult to be seen as so insignificant sometimes... I don't think I made a good impression for my... species, I guess,” And she stopped at that. What could she expect? That Maisie would be sympathetic? That she would agree and tell her kind words? Chilili had no allusions that she was barely considered in the games of gods. “Um... is it you that's responsible for all these um... coincidences? It seems like wherever I go, there's something or someone with some kind of relevance to this... uh... whadyacallit? Test? It's kind of freaking me out...” she finished.

Maisie, full name Margeret pulled her elbows in so Edelia could get past her in the narrow aisle. They hadn't planned on it, but the God's were congregating like sharks to a dying seal. Maisie felt sorry for Chilili for being the bait. But she couldn't say too much with Edelia there, lest she be seen to have a bias.

Maisie, full name Margeret "Some of them are me. But some are also just symptomatic of all of us exerting our influences so close together." she paused for a second, and then hazarded to extend a hand to Chilili. She took a step forward and gripped Chilili's forearm. "And you're not insignificant just because most of us are self-involved." She hoped she could convey alliance, but she new that she was not of Chilili's kind and so could never truly be her ally.

Chilili Crow-Dog knew that she should be comforted by the sympathy of the gods that descended upon her. And if they had been human, she would have felt embarrassed by her display of rebellious emotion. Yet they were not human. Despite their clever disguises and their seamless gestures, they were void. No, not void... too full... The consciousness of a god was overwhelming. The more they were around her, the more she could feel it seep from their bodies. In a day, Chilili could slip in and out like a fish through a stream of consciousness. Some moments like waiting in line or watching TV would dissolve in her brain while others just exploded, taking up space and changing her character. In a person's life, how many moments does anyone remember anyway? Maybe a few. But the longer she stayed in the presence of gods, the harder it was to shut it off. Every moment was important, significant, logged into her brain and she was made aware whether she wanted it or not. Maybe it wasn't that they felt her small but that she really was, and being in their presence, she would eventually burst.

“I agreed to this,” she said simply, “I just didn't think it would feel like this... Like I'm going crazy... And don't get into how small my brain is or something, okay? Just spare me the whole puny human routine. I know I'm small... I just... I just don't need to be reminded of it all the time. I'm... I'm sorry... I didn't think it would be this hard and I haven't even gotten into the first test yet,” and she laughed with a self-affected titter. She crossed her arms and looked away. Outside, the sun flickered through the posters on the window. It dazzled and shimmered in her eyes. Chilili raised a hand to shield her vision, turning her head up towards the wall above the book cases. She noticed a poster above, aged and worn. It was of a kitten hanging off a tree branch. The writing was the same heavy, 70s font with loopy letters and saturated colors. It said, “Hang in There, Baby!” And she smiled for the first time.

Danse Mors, Death 's eyes narrowed with menace as he spied on the others through the book shelf. He pushed aside the copy of Nietzsche's The Antichrist and watched the girls fawn over the human as if she were a pampered pet. Doom decided that was the right time to meow. Danse was not amused by this. Sadly, the cat had also seen the bird but was unable to leap upon the flying food due to its leash. Doom was disappointed when the flying food had changed into a human who were not as traditionally fun to hunt as a bird. Danse was also disappointed. It would have been interesting to see a common cat eat a god despite the inevitable explosion and messiness. Then suddenly, he was reminded again of Sir Hugs-a-lot... He decided he had to insert himself into the conversation. It was clear that too much feminine energy led to passive inertia. And only in this moment, would he side with Infinitious in his kinetic and somewhat aggravating initiative. Yet the nerd had obviously lost them as his presence was absent. He would have to hold it together. It was barely worth the hassle. He turned to Doom, trying to suggest that they were to embark on a serious undertaking. Yet lacking Nyama's natural sympathy for animals, Doom did not get the message. Instead, he licked his back leg, ignoring the obvious need for leadership. “This is why people prefer dogs,” Danse muttered, dragging the protesting cat around to the other side.

Danse Mors, Death Grimaced as he spotted the group. “Are we done with the group therapy?” he sneered. He looked at each one, baring into the whites of their eyes with the intention of intimidation. “Have we all forgotten why we are here? Do we need a refresher course?” he said with a snarling undercurrent in his tone. The black cat simply sat near his feet, staring at Maisie. Danse turned to Edelia, slightly caught off guard that another god dared to show up this time. The first argument setting off the end of the first universe had not been pretty. The fact that more gods were now starting to show made him a little nervous. An emotion that did not sit well with Death. He cleared his throat to buy himself a moment. Admittedly, he had an uneasy relationship with Time. When Time had a beginning and an end, especially an end, Danse was satisfied. It was when Time was eternal, endless that he became uncomfortable. And when things became uncomfortable for Death, he did not exactly react in a positive way. “So,” he started in an unusually high-pitched tone, “decided to join the dialogue here? Pleased to see the state of the universe actually caught someone's attention...” Sarcasm was dripping from his words like venom. “I hope you realize that this isn't a knitting party! We're here to decide the fate of creation itself! Not just this stupid girl!” he snapped, pointing offhandedly at Chilili. “Who cares if she LIKES it!! She agreed to it!” his chest puffed up as he swung his arms in a grandiose fashion. Books toppled to the ground and Doom began to yowl in distress. “And you!” he said, pointing at Maisie. He drew his words out longer in her presence, simply because he had no real argument with her. She had simply appeared and offered sympathy to a girl that needed it. She had done nothing wrong. “We have a job here! I expect you to tow the line, despite how you feel!” his tone had lost their bite. His temper settled to a quiet stew much to the cat's relief.

Danse Mors, Death turned to Chilili and discovered a hunger that he sat inside him like a toad waiting for a fly. Perhaps it was her mortality. Being around other gods was frustrating because he could not simply end them. There was no sense of relief for the struggle of existence. But Chilili was so refreshingly vulnerable to him. It made him almost eager in her presence. “Maybe I'm taking the wrong approach,” he said, gazing into her eyes. “Perhaps it's too difficult for me to understand you... What am I to you but some unknowable concept? What is Time to you but an idea? What is Fate and Fortune to you but notions? And in that respect, what are you to us but an impression? It's a little frightening to see those abstract thoughts suddenly become real before your eyes, isn't it?” he continued, “I admit, I'm a little intimidated too,” His tone grew slick and unnatural. Often in his incarnations he had been confused with a devil and bargained with. And other times, too, he had to convince those that refused to let go of their lost lives to turn to him. Ghosts were his failures. Chilili was his new challenge. “Chilili,” he said, in a familiar tone, easing closer to her, “In the end... there is nothing to be frightened of... Whether you succeed or fail, the end always comes. The very people you save will die. This very universe will one day die, either naturallyor preternaturally. You fight a lost cause. That is something I understand because I fight for you... And in the end, whether you win or lose, you'll come to me, Chilili...” As he came closer, his tone grew lower, darker; a lurking beast in the shadow ready to leap. “It's effortless, really... to die... No test, no gods, nothing... a beautiful void...” he said, and left it at that. No matter how big or small, every living thing understood the language of Death. He was giving her the illusion that she had a choice and all he needed to do was wait for the answer.

Chilili Crow-Dog raised a quizzical eyebrow at Danse. Death didn't usually give her the creeps. She had seen animals die and knew that she would someday be the one to give death to them. Chilili considered herself well-versed. However, to be offered death by Death, himself, was a whole other matter. It didn't sit well with her. In fact, it made her quite sick to her stomach. Her mother chose to end her life because the burden was too much but this was cowardice. Chilili would not allow herself to be poisoned in this way. She would be better. She promised herself that she would be better. Chilili would live her mother's unfinished life and flourish. And like a match to a flame, a fire was lit from within her. She wasn't only creeped out by Death... she was furious with Death. “What the hell did you just say to me!?” she snapped, startling the few people that had wandered aimlessly through the bookstore. “You have NO business, NO RIGHT to speak to me that way!” she continued, waving her arms wildly around her. “I haven't even started yet! You can't win that easy!! My life means something! And right now it means the whole universe so if you think I'm giving up that easily, you have another thing coming!!” And in a fit of rage, she pointed her finger at Danse, making a move to poke him right in the shoulder and said in a low, boiling voice, “You'll get me on my own terms, bucko, and not a second before, you little twerp!” She stormed off incensed.

Danse Mors, Death was stunned. He held the spot where Chilili had struck him and let out a howl of agony. "Ow!!" he said indignantly. He spun on his heels and glared at the back of the petty human. "OW!!" he said again, punctuating his point. He couldn't decide whether the assault was insulting or simply irritating. He couldn't see how he could have provoked such behavior. Usually a deal with Death was met with more ceremony and fear... not POKING! He rubbed the wounded spot and found the injury to his ego hurt more than the miriad of scars and injuries to the body. His host body had never known pain such as this and niether had Death. He would take this poking incident as the most gravest of insults. His mind was made up. He wasn't going to play nice anymore. Unfortunately, he could not call upon an army of the dead in his host body but he would find a way. He was not without influence...