Chapter 9
It turned out that talking watermelons can’t really get drunk. That didn’t stop Rinaxis from trying, though he glared at the quickly emptying bottle more and more, like it was somehow betraying him.
“Okay, well how about starting with what just happened to you? You went from sounding like an English etiquette professor to…” Ginny gestured at the melon, who had loosened the collar of his tuxedo and tossed his bowtie on the floor to join the top hat. “This.”
The young man, who a second quick and silent Analyze had revealed to be one ‘Brendon Fouth’ nodded in agreement with her, seeming to have gotten over his nervousness at her blood-soaked appearance at some point. Rinaxis grunted in response, switching his dour expression from the bottle he still held to Ginny.
“Mmph.” He stared at her thoughtfully, before giving one of his little full-body nods. “Yer a Story, huh? Damn, didn’t even notice.” He shrugged, taking another pull off the bottle as he ignored her question. “Can’t really blame me though, if these are the kind of stories your world had already, you’re even more screwed than I thought.” Ginny felt a stab of annoyance at his rude and dismissive attitude.
“I didn’t write it.” She replied in a clipped tone, glaring at the offending melon. Brendon raised an eyebrow and stared at her more intently, while Rinaxis shrugged and took another long pull off the bottle, some of it dripping down along his rind onto his tuxedo. “Well, yer writing it now. Not that it’s gonna matter. If you’re here and not a gibbering mess, it means the Ravagers didn’t think your story was even threatening enough to mess you up early. Unless…” He trailed off thoughtfully in mid-raise of the bottle, “Who’s the Herald for your planet?”
Trying to keep ahold of her rising annoyance, Ginny opened her mouth to answer but was surprisingly beat to it by Brendan. “He said his name was Tryn. Well, technically he said we’d call him Tryn, since we weren’t worth the air it would take to speak his true name.” Ginny glanced over at him, both surprised that someone else knew that Tryn was the Herald, since she’d only found that out from a chance encounter with another Ravager. It also sounded like Brendon had a slightly different conversation with Tryn, than the one she’d had, or the one the kids had had.
Rinaxis finished another drink slamming the bottle back down on the counter with a dull thud. “Names don’t mean anything to more than half of the current batch a Ravagers. What did he look like?”
“He was wearing a black and purple jester outfit.” Rinaxis stared back blankly. “He was thin, skeletal.” Rinaxis shrugged, and Ginny shared a look with Brendon, who shrugged as well. “Uh, he didn’t have any eyes? Just these weird purple flames in empty sockets.” That finally got a reaction, and Rinaxis groaned, shaking his head and taking a particularly long pull off the bottle.
“Oh, that one? Wow. You know, I said it before, but that little detail makes it worth repeating. Your world is completely screwed.” Rinaxis raised the bottle in a mocking salute before pulling it back for another drink. Before he could get the bottle all the way to his already open mouth, Ginny leaned across the bar and grabbed the bottle, pulling it back down to clank against the counter, the green liquid inside sloshing and fizzing wildly. She glared at the annoying melon. “Look, you wannabe pickling project. None of us knows what’s going on, there are literal monsters roaming the woods outside your door hunting people, and I didn’t even exist four hours ago. So how about you ease up on the bottle and help us out here?”
Rinaxis stared back at her, his beady melon eyes steady, and for just a second, Ginny felt the distant feeling of a shiver down her spine being repressed by Survivor’s Will.
You have leveled up! You are now level 3! Luck increased by 3! You receive 2 unallocated stat points!
Ginny blinked. What the heck? Why did I level up off of that? Unless… Her glare intensified. “Did you just almost kill me?” Ginny was thinking about one of her abilities that she hadn’t seen much use out of, even though it stood out both for sharing its name with her Template, and for starting out at “Level: MAX”, unlike her other abilities.
Final Girl: Your story involved you alone surviving when everyone around you perished. The ultimate unlikely survivor in the face of near certain death or worse. You receive experience whenever you survive a situation that was likely to result in your death. The amount received depends on your odds of survival. A bonus is applied for every other individual in the same situation near you who you outlive.
Rinaxis shook his head, which involved wiggling his entire torso back and forth. “Nah. Not really. I mean… not really.” Ginny stared back at him suspiciously, and he crossed his thin vine arms in front of himself. “Lemme guess… you’ve got some kind of Danger Sense ability that just went off?” Ginny shrugged in response. “Something like that. It’s an ability that gives me experience whenever I survive a ‘situation that was likely to result in my death’.” She said, reading off the last part from the skill’s description. She kept the last part to herself; about the experience she received increasing with every person nearby who didn’t survive whatever she did. Rinaxis nodded in appreciation. “Nice. That’s got its pros and cons with a more traditional danger sense ability, but more… experience, is never a bad thing.” His mouth twisted strangely around the world experience. He gave the bottle that Ginny was still holding onto another half-hearted tug, then leaned back on his stool with a sigh. “Okay, okay. Only so much help a poor Tickat turned melon can offer, but I’ll do what I can. Could be interesting.” There was a flicker of excitement in the melon’s eyes when he said the last part, but he plowed forward quickly before Ginny could comment on it.
“Alright, we’ll start with that ability of yours, that I assume gave you some experience just now?” He continued after waiting a beat for Ginny to nod in confirmation. “Okay, based on what you said it does, what probably happened, is you did something that would normally get you killed. In this case, you grabbed my bottle here.” He wiggled the bottle in question, that Ginny still had a grip on. “To understand why that was a very bad idea, aside from just being rude, you need to know a bit about my role in all this.” Rinaixs released the bottle and gestured around him. “I’m part of the Depths, and the part I’m playing in this version of it, is that of a humble Shopkeeper.” He glanced around at the bare wooden walls and crooked floorboards and made a disgusted face. “An extremely humble Shopkeeper. Now, Shopkeepers are here to help you guys, the poor bastards in the process of being exterminated by the Depths. We offer a variety of services, although the two most used, and the most useful to you all for now, are first, that this room is a safe space.” Brendon opened his mouth to say something, and Rinaxis quickly cut him off with a roll of his eyes. “As safe as you’re gonna find. Once monsters start spawning, they won’t come in here. The Depths makes them with a kind of… instinct to avoid going through Depths Doors, especially the ones that lead into shops.” The melon tapped the counter with a vine for emphasis. “That’s important, really important. The kind of important that could save your lives, since if you’re about to get torn apart by something, and you can get to a Depths Door, they usually won’t follow you through it.” He paused in consideration, then shrugged. “Usually. Course, you all won’t be allowed to go through all the Depths Doors you find, and even if you can’t go through, if the door doesn’t lead to a shop, there’s no guarantee you won’t end up somewhere worse. Now, the other reason shops are safe zones, and the one relevant to your ability going off earlier, kid.” Rinaxis nodded at Ginny, “Is that Shopkeepers aren’t allowed to attack you all. And when I say not allowed, I mean it’s literally impossible. The Depths won’t allow it, and any abilities we have won’t work. Unless!” He held up a vine for emphasis, “The Shopkeeper in question is defending a direct threat to either their shop or their person. Then all our old abilities get turned back on, and we’re allowed to go wild. And just what constitutes a ‘direct threat’ to our shops or persons, is surprisingly broad. For example…” Rinaxis gestured at the bottle that Ginny was still holding. “As soon as you grabbed the bottle while I was still holding it, that constituted a direct threat in the eyes of the Depths.” The melon grinned widely at her. “At which point, I was free to utterly mess you up. When I decided not to, since I’m such a nice guy, that met the requirements of your ability for you surviving a situation that could have easily resulted in your death.” The melon nodded, absently retrieving the tophat from the floor, the vine of his arm extending out from his sleeve to grab it. “Really easily. You all are new enough that any shopkeeper you meet, no matter how humble, and no matter how much they may look like a ridiculous melon in a tuxedo, has more than enough experience to kill you without too much trouble.”
Once again, Rinaxis’ mouth twisted strangely around the word ‘experience’, and Ginny opened her mouth to ask about it, when she was cut off again, this time by Brendon.
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“Holy shit. Holiest of most holy shits.” Ginny winced slightly, regarding him with annoyance as he stared at her in open mouthed shock, excitement rapidly covering his face. “Dapper Dan said you’re a Story, and that shirt, and the blood…” He trailed off, staring at her in awe. “You’re Virginia Christianson, aren’t you? You’re really her.” Ginny leaned back, a little unsettled by the excitement and awe on Brendon’s face in a way that Survivor’s Will did nothing to repress.
“I’m, uh… going by Ginny, but… yeah, pretty much.”
Ginny leaned back further when Brendon let out a loud and surprisingly shrill noise of excitement. “Holy shiiiiiiit!” Brendon bounced in place, grinning, and then adopted a serious pose, holding up one hand in front of him and gripping an imaginary knife. “Go back… to BELOW!” He intoned dramatically, before his serious expression gave way to a wide grin again.
Ginny stared back at him incredulously, and behind the counter, Rinaxis snickered to himself, taking advantage of her distraction to tug his bottle from her grasp.
“So, so screwed.” He said quietly, shaking his head as he took another drink.
***
Brendon was, apparently, a fan. After asking Ginny to say a couple of lines from her movie (which she’d refused to do) and to look at the Blood Drinker’s Bane (which she’d even more firmly refused), he’d settled into a strange sort of barely contained bouncy excitement, his head bobbing slightly as he watched her interrogate Rinaxis with a grin.
“So… she’s not real?” Ginny was stopped before she could ask Rinaxis more questions by the shaky voice from the corner. Mark, who’d been watching this exchange from over in the corner with that familiar sense of barely holding it together, had been looking at Rinaxis when he asked the question, but he kept glancing sidelong at Ginny as he did it. She felt the sensation of Survivor’s Will repressing a sick current of anxiety that appeared in her stomach at Mark’s word, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to cut off Rinaxis before he could answer. Before she could decide, the melon snorted, which came out muffled and wet sounding, before waving off Mark’s question.
“Don’t be that guy, kid. I don’t see any blood on you, and enough to fill a couple buckets on her. Since you arrived together, I’m guessing that means she saved you and your friend there from something out there. Being a jerk to her now is not a look you’re gonna do well wearing.” Mark’s face flushed in response, and he shot a guilty look at Ginny. “I-I wasn’t, but you said…” Rinaxis waved him off again. “I said she’s a Story. That don’t mean she’s not real.” The melon paused long enough to take another quick pull off the now mostly empty bottle, Ginny having been too distracted to reclaim it from him. “In fact, in the eyes of the Depths, she’s probably more real than anyone in this room right now.” He paused again and his rind split into a wide grin. “Well, aside from yours truly. Always need extras.” He laughed again, but the sound had a harsh edge to it.
Mark scowled but remained silent, as Brendon took over, his excitement over meeting Ginny fading somewhat, replaced by uncertainty. “Uh, why? Like, I’m not a punk, Virginia-“
“Ginny.” Ginny interjected firmly, and Brendon quickly nodded.
“Right, Ginny, seems just as real as the rest of us, and just as much of a badass as she was on the screen, but why is she ‘more’ real? What does that even mean?”
Rinaxis blew out a long and wet sounding breath, considered the mostly empty bottle, then placed it back on the counter. “Alright. You are all lucky, normally this isn’t the kind of thing a shopkeeper can explain to you all, especially not this early in the story. But…” He tipped the top hat, that he’d absently put back on at some point, to Ginny. “Since the Story over there already knocked me out of character, my lips are a bit more unsealed.” Rinaxis paused, reaching up to run one vine over his split melon mouth, confirming that he didn’t actually have lips. “Side note, you need to be careful doing that in the future. You got lucky with me, but a lot of people will not react well to getting forced out of character like that. And some of the ones that are happy about it are not the kind of people you want being their true authentic selves around you, if you get what I mean.” Ginny stared at him intently as he continued rubbing his lipless mouth absently.
“I really don’t. Get what you mean, I mean.” She responded.
“Right, okay.” Rinaxis dropped his vine to his side and focused back on the conversation. “Let’s see if I remember how to give the company pitch, it’s been a while.” He fell silent, seeming to get lost in thought for a moment, before shrugging. “Okay, Stories.” He pointed one vine at Ginny. “The girl here is a Story. She is literally a physical embodiment of a story, a legend, or whatever form your world’s stories take.” Brendon opened his mouth, presumably to explain movies to the melon, and Ginny frowned at him slightly, and he closed it again, before giving her a thumbs up. “Now, usually, a Story takes the form of the hero of their legend or story. I assume that you were the hero of your story? The focus of whatever was happening?” Ginny considered that for a moment, then shrugged uncertainly. “I was the only one alive at the end?” Rinaxis nodded, somehow managing to flick the end of a vine enough to make a sound remarkably like snapping fingers. “Right, or that. Explains that ability you mentioned earlier. Anyway.” He turned back to address the room on the whole, as opposed to focusing on Ginny specifically. “It’s pretty standard for the Depths to create a few of a world’s existing stories, to give a world a bit of help in the beginning, when things are just getting started.” Rinaxis wrapped his vines around his torso as he continued. “So, the Depths System, or just the Depths as most people call it. You’re probably wondering what it is.” Rinaxis shrugged. “No idea. And honestly, I don’t think you’ll find anyone who does. The Depths is those blue screens you’ve been seeing, the energy that created her physical form,” He nodded at Ginny, “that is going to give you all the abilities you’re hopefully going to develop in the coming days, the doors you use to enter shops or other locations. But!” Un unwrapped one vine enough to hold it up in front of them. “The Depths is NOT just a mindless system. Thinking of it that way is easy, but don’t make that mistake. The Depths is alive. It listens, it watches, and it wants.” Rinaxis stared at them intently, his tone harsh and serious. “And what it wants are Stories. Everything it’s going to do and let its sycophants do to your planet in the coming days, is to get the Stories it wants.”
Mark licked his lips and then asked, “Like her? But didn’t the Depths make her? Why does it need to do all this stuff if it can just do that?” Rinaxis let out another wet sounding sigh and shook his head. “That’s the thing, the Depths didn’t make her. Sure, it whipped up a physical body, and some energy to give her what it felt were appropriate abilities, but the Story that she is was made by your people.” He made a sweeping gesture at Ginny, indicating the entirety of her, from bloodstained sneaker tip to the top of her bloodstained head. “Someone came up with the idea for her. Gave her a name. Every detail, from the color of her eyes, her hair, her height, all born from someone, or multiple someone’s minds. The events and circumstances of her life. Everything about her was already here when the Depths arrived. All it’s done is give that form, so that the Story can continue.”
Ginny considered the melon’s words, ignoring the discomfort from having her origins laid out so starkly as the others processed what they’d been told. After a couple of minutes, Mark cleared his throat. “Okay, so why does the Depths want stories? And why all the monsters and stuff? And what does that have to do with normal people like us?” Rinaxis rolled his beady eyes in response. “In order, how the hell would I know, because good Stories need conflict and adversity, and as to what it has to do with you…”
“It’s because it wants us to become Stories.” Brendon cut the melon off, who glared at him in response, before grudgingly nodding. “That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why it’s giving us these Paths and stats and abilities, isn’t it? So, we can live out, or tell the kind of Story it wants? Be like her?” Brendon pointed at Ginny, his words coming faster and faster. “That’s why you said she’s the most real, right? Because she’s already a Story.”
Rinaxis flailed two vines together in his approximation of clapping, although barely any sound was produced. “You got it, kid. A bit oversimplified, and way more optimistic than you have any right to be, but you’ve got the gist of it.” He leaned back on his stool, taking the mostly empty bottle off the counter and transforming it into a full empty bottle in one long pull. “Too bad it doesn’t matter. You’re still screwed.” Brendon and Ginny both frowned, and she leaned closer, speaking before the excited young man got a chance to. “Why? If they know what to do, and if all you need to do to become a Story is something on the level of the writing in my movie, I doubt it’s going to be hard, that’s a very low bar.” Brendon looked strangely offended by that, giving her a betrayed look. “It’s a classic.”
Ginny looked over at him, meeting his eyes. “It’s my movie, and it’s incredibly stupid.”
Rinaxis cleared his throat before the two of them could devolve into an argument. “It might very well be. The Depths doesn’t know anything about a world’s stories, which is why it asks to inhabitants of a world it arrives at for recommendations, essentially.” Ginny turned back to him with a blank look, but Brendon pointed at him excitedly. “The hero thing, that Tryn asked us about, about heroes and fighting monsters. That was the Depths finding good stories?” Rinaxis nodded in confirmation. “Sounds about right. It’s a little different for each world, but it’s usually something like that. But just because a story comes recommended, doesn’t mean it will succeed in capturing the Depths interest. Some Stories end early, and violently. Some Stories never do anything interesting enough to progress, and up forgotten, or sacrificed to some other, more interesting Story. And if your story isn’t interesting enough to the Depths when it moves on to another world, well…” Rinaxis trailed off and then drew a vine across his torso where his neck would be if he had one. Everyone on the other side of the table stared back at him silently, before Brendon swallowed heavily and opened his mouth.
“Is that why you said we’re all screwed? You don’t think we’re going to be able to do anything the Depths would find interesting with our Stories?” Rinaxis shook his torso in response.
“Nah. Couldn’t tell you just what exactly the Depths will find interesting, much less if your Stories are going to be able to fit the bill. No, you all’s problem is that the Depths already has a collection of Stories, its personal favorites that it has accumulated over the years and dragged them along with it to who knows how many worlds.” Rinaxis looked at them, and instead of looking grumpy or amused, he just looked weary. “And those Stories know that any new Stories that get picked up and catch the Depth’s interest, means maybe when it’s done with this world, that their stories aren’t interesting enough anymore.”
The melon shook himself sadly, drooping forward enough that his top hat slid off his head and onto the floor once more.
“And that’s why the Ravagers are going to make sure none of your Stories get very far.”
