[a long, long time ahead]
Dammit, that really hurt! What the hell, immortal truck-kun? In any case, yep, that did it, Preston is finally dead.
…
At least I think I’m dead. But this is not the void. Where is the void? This isn’t like my other deaths. I am floating right where I died. No one else sees me. Looking down at myself, I see transparent ghostliness. What is going on? Is Preston going to get resuscitated or something?
The city is faded into shadow. Silence muffled into existence.
Congratulations, Jacques. You now qualify. You have lived over 70 lives and have accumulated at least 11,000 karma. Preston Blake reached level 50 and gained at least four S-ranked skills. There is at least one each in your primary and secondary class skills, and at least two among your learned skills. Preston lived a truly outstanding and excellent life.
He congratulated “Jacques” not “Preston”, so Preston is dead. But Interface is implying this is truly special. Qualify for what?
Not all worlds have gods, but as you know Rockwell does. Preston qualifies for ascension to godhood here. Should you choose to accept it, it will be counted as a separate life. After 2500 years you may choose to expire. Should you choose to remain longer, you may do so, for up to 10,000 years total. Once expired, you will roll for your next, non-deific, life.
Do you wish to ascend?
Woah. Really? Wow.
Something, check.
I have lived in service to gods before, but I never expected to become one. I knew the maximum level for a normal life was 50, and that gods have the equivalent of being a level anywhere from 75 to 100. I did not know for sure I could ever become a god, nor what it would take. Learn something new every day.
So, the question is, do I want to be a god? I am glad it is an option now. I feel good about what I had been able to accomplish in this past life. Like, really good. But as a god, shouldn’t my primary concern be external to myself? To all the peoples of the world? Maybe sentients too? Could I handle it?
“What do you think, Interface? This is your decision, too. Would you like to share godhood with me?”
Gods are powerful and long lived. With that, comes attendant responsibilities. If you feel you are ready, I shall fully support you.
…
“Yes, I wish to ascend.”
and truly hope we will not regret it.
Very well. You will remember your baselife, Preston’s life, the 18 lives prior to Preston, and 5 additional, ancient, remembered lives, chosen randomly, to the one he knows.
No dice roll. That is the max I could have received on a fresh roll of remembered lives. And that is in addition to Preston. I wonder why.
That kind of massive experience base should be very useful to a god. I know he said “random”, but I wonder if System will choose ones from my ancient lives that might be exceptionally applicable. I hope so. I want to be the best god I can be. And I am very glad I am keeping the one I already know.
The following choice will determine your default form.
Available Godhoods
* Alchemy
* Children
* the Circus
* Parties
* the Seas
It is not a very big selection, but I guess it makes sense that most, um, slots are filled. “Children” and “the Seas” both are very important. I am surprised they have been absent. But then, I lived a full life and never noticed the absence. The world made do. Before choosing, there is something I need to know.
“As a god, will I still only exist on tuesdays?”
Yes. By the way, the technical term for 'slots' is 'stations'.
"That does sound better."
Okay. The two I think are most important are out. I don’t want to be watching over children or the seas and be absent most of the time. If an alchemist were really needing attention, I would hate to be absent for that as well. Interface probably expects me to choose the Seas, but I’m not. It should have a god’s full-time focus. So, it looks like it will be either the Circus or Parties. Maybe people will eventually learn that having those kinds of experiences work out best on certain days. Too bad they have an 8-day week, so it might be hard to figure out. People are clever, though, so they eventually should.
I have never considered myself a “party animal”, and watching over parties does not sound very appealing. Not truly bad, but I think I might learn a lot about rare aspects of life as “god of the Circus”.
“Interface, I choose the Circus.”
Well chosen, Jacques. You will have the base form of a middle-aged male clown. Your effective level will be 83, and it will not change. People will know you as both “Clown” and “the Circus”. You will be ageless, able to manifest as any age. You will have neither a primary nor a secondary class, but you may learn skills over time. Do you have any questions prior to ascension?
That is the second time today he has used my name. Is that respect, maybe?
At least he didn’t make me a mime. And I have never had a fear of clowns. If other people do, I’ll be in the position to change that.
“What about my current learned skills? Will I forget those?”
Yes and no. They will be removed from your skill set, but they will all be available as nascents, with no limit as to recovering them. They will restore at one rank below what Preston knew, and ranking to Preston’s capability will occur at an accelerated rate. Consider it a godly bonus, along with all your regens remaining at S rank. Your mana regeneration will be upgraded to aether regeneration. Over time you will gain the capability to refine aether to mana or ki in order to learn common skills dependent on one or the other.
“Like a monster?”
Yes.
“That all sounds more than fair. I don’t know enough to know what other questions to ask. On the job training should be sufficient, and I should have my stuff together within the next 5 years. I will value your advice whenever you choose to share it. Wait! Will those years be world-years, or tuesday years?”
It will be years of experience. So 5 years for you will be 35 years to the world at large. Serve wisely.
Thus, as far as the world is concerned, I’ll be around for at least the next 17,500 years, but no more than 70,000. I should be able to make my mark.
Suddenly I find myself in an ethereal circus, as the ringleader clown. A voice proclaims with joy, “The Circus, he is back!”
----------------------------------------
[about 1000 years later]
I have been really enjoying this life. Realizing and learning my powers took a long time. In a sense, it is not even ‘powers’. A better word might be ‘scope’. I am a piece of the world, one of many. My host have proved invaluable in continually picking up the slack left in the wake of my ignorance. I remember learning that my big tops serve as shelters in times of disaster.
Recently, there was a significant zombie outbreak affecting a large island. Fortunately a circus was there at the time, and the people were able to gather in the big top for both shelter and cures from the zombie infestation.
Who would have thought flying monkey spit would cure a zombie virus? I mean, besides the flying monkeys.
Maybe a, you know, god?
“I would have figured something out.”
Next time you might be even quicker than monkees.
I clowned around outside, laughing the unfortunate shamblings to final rest. Their souls had already abandoned dead flesh, leaving only the cursed, animated remains of corruption. It took me five hours to clear the whole island, scanning each little cave, grave, and hiding spot.
War and Nature helped insure the outbreak was eliminated, which had originated on a nearby continent.
The potential loneliness of a land devastated by zombies brought back a memory. Many lives ago I met ‘Chuk’. He was an immortal mysterious stranger, and the first other immortal I met face to face. It really wasn’t much of a meeting. By his nature, few others will get to know him. He can have three friends at any one time. If he makes a fourth, the first of the other three forgets him. He didn’t want to lose the friends he had, so we shared a drink and moved on.
I thought tuesday’s wildcard was pretty limiting, but no thank you to that.
● ● ● ● ●
[about 27,000 years later]
After my sixdays ended, I put out a call to Trebor to see if he and his “owner” would like to visit.
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That Quenton dude clearly fears me. I really hope I can get him past it. I know he is young, barely 18, and Trebor has only been his bonded pet for two years. Still, I get the vibe that Quenton is never comfortable in his own skin. I don’t remember ever being that alone and awkward. (And that is a lot of ever.) He has Trebor, for heaven’s sake!
Trebor can make anyone smile, as he has been doing with me and at various circusses for over 300 years. He is an immortal in his seventh life. I’m such an idiot! I should have realized it when I first saw the archetype “alley cat” on that list. It could have meant being a sapient pet. I don’t think I would have chosen it, but it would have been worth a second thought.
Trebor makes it work. His secondary class is one of the limitations of the alley cat. It has to be shapeshifter. His default form is always the world’s closest equivalent to a housecat, but he can morph into almost any type of being he wants. That capability alone easily allows him to be our unofficial headliner.
He chose Diffusionist as his primary class. While a shapeshifter changes their mass to match their new form, being a Diffusionist adds to that capability immensely. In whatever form, he can become extremely dense down to almost totally diffuse, with the capability to pass through sufficiently porous walls. He can also change the density of non-living objects that he has contact with. It is almost unfair what his primary and secondary allow.
He is a natural (re)born entertainer. He loves to fly, all around the arena, into the audience, and hover in front of a child's delighted face.
He makes people feel happy.
Who am I kidding? He makes me feel happy. Tens of thousands of years is a really, really, long time, even if it is just the Tuesdays. The weight of Rockwell is something I feel even during my sixdays. I’m sure I would have moved on by now if not for Trebor’s company.
His previous two owners would have been circus folk even without Trebor. I first met him along with Lilly, the Singing Juggler, but she only lived for 20 more years, and died peacefully. With his alley cat nature, his owner’s death does not mean he dies also. After many years with Lilly, though, he was heartbroken. Fortunately Granders the Animal Tamer had been a friend of both. When he asked Trebor if he would be his co-star, light rebloomed in his eyes. Granders was a beastman turtle and lived for centuries.
His eventual death was also peaceful, Trebor spent several years alone. We had many conversations, building a deep friendship. He is the first immortal I ever had a chance to spend significant time with, and I swear the little cat made every second count.
Quenton is his third owner. He was just sort of traveling the world, connected to nothing. Visiting a circus one day with a distant cousin, something must have switched on. Trebor the (un)bonded pet and Quenton the petless summoner somehow realized they were a match, without knowing anything about each other. They got to talking, Trebor agreed to the bond with excitement. I hope Quenton was excited too, but I kind of think he just went along because it would be expected for a summoner to do. Trying to avoid scaring the kid, I have slowly been building for the two to achieve a bond by heart, not just circumstance.
There is no answer to my call.
Then —
No, no it can’t be. “No! How? Why?” I shout with desperation to my attendants at the ethereal circus, and to no one as well. I instantiate somewhere in a wood. Trebor is dead, stabbed. Quenton lay near him, also dead, poisoned. I can tell it was a murder suicide. No one else has been here.
That kid, that stupid, hateful, bastard kid.
That lost boy, never comfortable in his own skin. Why didn't I see it coming? I could have prevented this. I should have prevented this. I … am … a … god.
Teal is gone, too.
Teal was Trebor’s interface. I had forgotten momentarily that Interface had lost every bit as much as had I.
“I am so sorry. For us both.”
Look. Force yourself to look. What happened?
I scanned the minds of nearby creatures, listened to the silent voices of trees. None had any awareness of what led to this, although certain insects were already feasting.
I can see it was quick. Quenton must have acted while Trebor was asleep. He quickly stabbed him in the chest, then slit his throat.
No signs of torture. No mutilation. Efficient and almost clinical. This was not an act of hate or spite. Yet, he had the poison with him. It was premeditated. I think it was an act of emptiness. Quenton was incomplete, and he could never be complete. Trebor’s love might well have felt like an ongoing attack, which he could not comprehend. He must have striven, and part of him wanted, “to be normal”. He tried, and he tried, and he snapped.
I see, but I’m blind as any mortal. Tears? I’m crying. I’ve been crying. I have not been seen as a cryer for over a dozen lives. Dammit!
Since burial is not a thing here, I burn both bodies and the blood to ashes. The grass remains untouched.
“Goodbye to you, my trusted friend.”
Goodbye, Trebor. Goodbye, Teal.
I was frozen in place while Interface played the song1.
Dammit, why is it hitting me like this? The point of view is even backwards.
That’s it. That’s it. That’s it! 4000 years is enough. This is enough. I don’t want to play god anymore.
Back home, now. Speak from the heart.
“Dear friends, you have known me for over 28,000 years. And we have all worked tirelessly to add joy and happiness to the world. You have earned my eternal love and respect. But you saw. You know. I truly hope you do not see me as weak, a quitter. I have endured more than enough, even for a god. There will come a time of rebuilding. A time of joy again. The Circus will return.”
“I ask one thing of you. Build statues of Trebor and display them near the entrance to every big top for at least the next 1000 years. Let people remember that wondrous soul.”
A voice responds. It feels like all the voices. “As you will, Most High Clown. We loved Trebor also. You, we have revered and honored during every day of your presence. You have our eternal respect and love, not because we have to, but because your actions and returned respect have made it easy. Go with a calmed and easy heart.”
I look upward, and command, “Let all the world hear my proclamation.”
“The Clown must go. Seek happy, peaceful lives. Strive to understand simple joys and those who have special talents. Respect those who are different. I bless the world with one week of peace, where no one may take up arms against the other.”
War can go fuck himself.
“Remember The Clown fondly.”
With these eyes shut for the final time, “Interface, I expire.”
----------------------------------------
Oh, thank the System. The blessed void. And a full blue screen. No calendar. No clock. How I have missed this almost Nothing.
Very well done, Jacques. Know that I am crying with you. You did not merely do your best. You did the best. And that is from a superior being. Barely superior, in all honesty.
You will not respawn on Rockwell at least not in the foreseeable future. Your legend will live on. In you too.
Establishing memory of your first deific life as permanent.
You have had 84 lives since immortality.
You have accumulated 16,880 karma, gaining 2000 (capped) during your previous life.
Roll for number of remembered lives:
3d6 + 2D4
[Roll]
“That is different. The ‘1D7’’ had become ‘2D4’.”
The you which is the eternal you has transcended. You will now always have memory of your baselife and Clown’s deific life. These will remain the core you forever into the future.
Terrific. Both with lousy endings.
But terrific, truly. I respect those selves of me.
The core “you” is now more expansive even than you have yet realized. Preston did not die. He ascended. Preston ascended to become Clown. Think of Preston’s life as Clown’s baselife.
Preston had experienced over 215 years, spanning 15 centuries on Rockwell. He had chosen to be a half-elf fisherman and treasure hunter. He incarnated as a 21-year old and stopped aging at 48, mid-20s by Jacques’ standards. He took life slowly at first, enjoying the role of a fisherman in a moderately sized hamlet. He did not bother explaining where he kept vanishing to, but the people assumed he was treasure hunting. He had helped many of them find lost heirlooms and the like, While he seemed strange, he had their full respect. After experiencing that for 40 years, he moved to a larger town and joined an adventuring guild. He never joined a specific party for long, but when there was a tough, long quest in the seas or other waterways, parties would seek him out. They knew he would only be with them once every 7 days, but his value in such extended quests was priceless.
His only remembered ancient life was of Forrest Rhodes, my first life as an immortal. Forrest was so ignorant and afraid at first. Everything was so new, so different, so overwhelming. His first friend and day-one brother was Arrjee Silverstone, a totally remarkable born awakened. His original life had been as a hive creature, whose primitive species was just entering into sapience and individuality. It was a plain, repetitive life with very little room for growth.
When reborn into a more advanced wolfman species, he began regaining his memories at about two and a half years old. He realized how much greater, how much more, this new world offered. He was tremendously thankful every day that he now had opportunities and could choose to grow. Grow, and strive, and succeed he did, more than anyone any of my remembered lives ever knew. Preston had followed Arrjee’s example There were no blockades, only new opportunities. He also strove to excel at everything he could. Gaining his S-ranked class and learned skills with only 215 years of experienced life is almost unheard of, but Arrjee would have done it. Preston had semi-retired 4 experience-years prior to his death.
So Clown, who is now me forever, is also Preston forever. Preston is not simply one of my past lives. We will never forget him because he is integral to Clown. I think I have got it. And you know what? Preston’s life was fulfilling and did not have a lousy ending. It was just a sudden, unexpected one.
Stupid truck-kun … whose action led to my ascension, and my ascension to transcendence. Well, okay. “Thank you, Truck-kun.”
Hello Preston? Hello Clown? Do we talk to each other, or just be each other? … They are not talking. Must be “be”. I’ll get used to it. We’ll get used to it.
“You know what? Transcendence is confusing.”
You know what? You have transcended, and therefore will fully understand. I have one more boggle-bomb for that transcended mind of yours. Remember that Clown’s experience was boosted from the beginning with the 18 life memories prior to Preston, in addition to 6 total curated ancient lives.. Over his centuries, Clown would consider the lives of those people. Due to his deific nature, those memories continue. They are not complete life memories as all the rest, but memories of their memories. In some cases these are vague and perhaps out of context. In others, the memories contain the profound details and wisdom Clown was hoping to find. In summary, the permanent-you has gained Clown, Preston, and memories of memories of 24 previous lives.
“Curated”, yep. Memories which System felt would serve a deity well. And Clown’s memories of those memories will remain with me. Us. Geez, I can use the “royal we” and not have to feel self-conscious. I wonder if System had realized that having Forrest Rhodes in Preston’s memory, as well as Forrest’s memories of Arrjee, would become the core of Preston’s drive to excel and eventually ascend. Now those memories of memories (of memories, in Arrjee’s case) have become permanent.
Clown adds so much. It would be too much, as you are no longer a god. Everything you learned from galaxy-net has been forgotten. It is no longer in your purview to know the mechanics of galactic cosmology.
That is a weird feeling. Forgetting stuff I did not even know I knew.
Yet, you are greater. “Merely Jacques” no longer exists. I may know more of the galaxy and the System than you, but you are my full equal considering the life resources you have at your disposal. I feel I am greater as well, through the many lives we have shared. Thank you. I look forward to remaining your partner forever.
“Then let’s get on with it, partner. I roll.”
Congratulations. You remember your base lives, your deific life, seven lives previous to Preston, and two ancient lives.
The two ancient lives will be new to us. But there will be overlap between our memories of memories and the seven previous full life memories. I wonder if Clown’s godhood sometimes delved deeper into one’s memories than they themself remembered. Being a former god is confusing.
Well, that is unexpected.
The System has just told me something odd. He has a problem for which he feels you are qualified to help, although it may require a lifetime commitment. It seems there is a certain immortal who refuses to cooperate in his next roll. The alley cat just keeps saying, "I need a minute." This has been the situation for over a day.
Can a single substanceless smile fill the entire void?
Yes, I believe it can.
Single, though? “I” feel three of “us” now, not as life memories, but as me. All smiling. Hell, Interface is smiling too.
“Interface, I’d like to be a summoner youth, with a soul singer secondary. Please make him a hawkman who can fly. I’ll leave the details up to you.”
Do you not even wish to choose your name?
“Uhhh Just call me ‘Jack’.” About time I had another nickel.
“And have System tell that stupid cat to get his ass in gear. Clown will be waiting for him.”
[and the immortal life of Jacques Preston Clown continues to continue]
- - - - -
1 Seasons in the Sun © 1974 Terry Jacks. Released by SME and others
Originally Le Moribond © 1961 by Jacques Brel. Translated by Rod Mckuen and adapted by Terry Jacks