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Fifth Floor Common Room - Friday Evening

Tim decided to put Claire's lesson to use and make himself some dinner. He found the pot she'd been using, boiled water and added the pasta. And then added some more because he was pretty hungry and it didn't look like it would be a lot of food. And a little more, in case someone else wanted some.

[Open with food, 'cause he's making way more than needed!]

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"It's the Realm of the demon-dead," Karla said, casually. As one did. "Blood who die, but have too much psychic strength to fade into the Darkness. But they can't really remain among the living Realms--it saps their strength. Hell is the Realm closest to the Darkness and provides more ambient power, allowing them to live longer. Well, 'live.'" Ahh, air quotes.

"If you're interested, head over to GodCon this weekend. Uncle Saetan's there--" she couldn't suppress a slight grimace "--and will be giving some talks, I think. He can probably answer your questions about Hell a lot better than I can."

"Uncle Saetan? GodCon?"

See, and she'd thought she was adjusting! Or at least managing to maintain an even keel.

"Go with it, go with it, go with it... I think I'll skip that. And just assume your uncle has an unfortunate name for this dimension," Scully said, determined. "Don't tell me if I'm wrong... Okay. Your Hell, your other realm, is a death-dimension, if I understand you right? Nothing at all connected to the Christan idea of eternal damnation and torment. Yes?"

"Finally!" Karla said with relief. "Someone who understands. I mean, yes, Saetan is the High Lord of Hell and all, but our Hell is nothing like this world's Hell."

It wasn't stupid, for one thing. Not that Karla was biased. "It's just where all the demon-dead live. And Uncle Saetan rules it. Nothing about gardens and Trees and ribs and wars or anything nonsensical like that."

Nonsensical. Pot paging kettle.

Scully gave her a jaded look, and said dryly, "You realize those are all myths to explain concepts of creation and moral redemption to historic peoples who had no scientific way of understanding how the sun rose every day, right? Some of the poetry is quite beautiful. Most people don't take it literally any more."

"Tell that to the people who freak out and avoid me because I mention my uncle or his occupation," Karla retorted. "Tell than to the ones who automatically think I'm evil because I worship something called the Darkness, which your people believe is bad."

"You tell them," Scully said, her eyes steady. "The same way you just told me. And I told you." She looked thoughtful. "Harder on you, being in the minority here. But you can't expect people to react rationally the first time they hear something like that in this place, where anything frightening seems to be possible. If a real person claiming to be Lucifer showed up here, I'd be more likely to believe them. And be terrified."

"I do tell them," Karla said, shrugging. "Though the common reaction seems to be either fear or dismissal. Though you are, of course, free to make your own judgment on that, should you care to meet him."

"Interesting." Scully raised her eyebrows, then shrugged mentally. "I certainly wouldn't object. As long as he doesn't have the traditional horns and forked tail. I'm afraid I might laugh if that's the case. So if the opportunity ever comes up..."

"Horns and a forked tail?" Karla looked confused--she'd never seen any of the traditional representations of the devil. "Why would he have those. And he's here this weekend. GodCon. At the hotel. Let me know should you wish an introduction. Though he's nothing like your ancient poets would have you believe. But then, he's not of this world either, thank the Darkness."

"Some of the iconography of Satan depicts him that way.... And seriously?" Scully looked intrigued. "I'd like that, actually."

"Sure," Karla said shrugging. "He's only here to be bossy and overprotective anyway. Maybe if I get in embroiled in a philosophical discussion with you, he'll forget to grill me about what I've been up to recently."

Scully gave her a dubious look (she had a whole catalog of them: this one was flavored with amusement and speculation) and said, "I won't ask what you've been up to. I'd hate to have to lie to your uncle."

"Nothing bad!" Karla sputtered. And then paused to reconsider. "The charges couldn't stick. And it's not like we were properly arrested anyway. And all the flamingos were fine! I went back and checked!"

Scully stared at her and then facepalmed, trying not to giggle. "...I'm so glad to hear that."

Karla was glad to hear Scully laugh. She was so serious all the time. "Well, I did. I was a bit worried. Though I had to promise Professor Cabot that I wouldn't need her services in a professional capacity for the rest of the session before she'd name me her TA."

Scully coughed, still grinning, and nodded soberly. Well. She tried. "So I shouldn't bring that up when I meet your uncle? He's not the kind of Prince of Hell who'd think the flamingos deserved it... whatever it was?"

Heeeeeeeeee.

"Ooohh nooo..." Karla was wide-eyed. "He wouldn't be satisfied with just that, either, and he'd want the whole story, except he wouldn't like the whole story even though I had permission, plus he'd want to know where the catsuit came from and I can't even explain all that Fandom craziness to him."

The word 'catsuit' stood out from all that, and Scully suddenly wished Mulder were there to give her a significant look. Then she was glad he wasn't.

"So, no telling your uncle that there's anything to question you about. Check." She paused. "Although I think I'd like to hear it after he's gone."

Karla laughed again. "It's a deal," she promised. "Next time we meet up and Uncle Saetan's safely back terrorizing the coven, I'll explain. It all makes perfect sense once I explain it, really."

Though neither Vimes nor Cabot had seemed to think so.

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Fifth Floor Common Room - Friday Evening

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