Recuérdame.

[riptorn]

[Those of you who wish to see those who passed on? You'll be directed outside by Zeus, where he raises his arms, and marigolds begin to float around him. They float upwards, and form into a bridge.

It's structurally sound, and it seems fitting that you can cross it.

Eventually, you'll see it. Elysium. The Land of The Dead. Gentle music plays as you cross over into the city.

It's...festive. It's always festive. The architecture is colorful and full of spirit, and your group seems to be the only ones...human in appearance. Even your old friends seem to be a bit more skeletal in appearance. You can spend as much time here as you like, but eventually, that bridge will disappear. And you'll have to leave.

But...they'll never truly be gone. Not if you remember them. And someday, you'll join them. But for now, you celebrate. You've earned your happy ending.]

(ooc: This is the last log for the three canon rounds of Foolish Mortals! Thanks for coming along for the ride - we loved having you, and we hope to see ya real soon!)

Comments

[stanbyme]

That doesn't make it right! Why did you have to go and be a hero, Ford? We could have found another way!

[He doesn't care about that stern look, the one that, with Ford's face less of a mirror of his own, makes Ford look more like their father.]

I'm not... I'm not ready to lose you, Ford. I just got you back...

[sixfingeredstan]

To give you a shot at surviving, dummy. [He reaches out and ruffles Stan's hair, which is unreasonably long, if you ask him.] So you could go back home and finally get a chance to settle down. Be with Leia. Marry her. Adopt a damn dog or something, I don't know what heterosexuals do in their free time. After everything you've done...you deserve that much.

[Ford goes quiet for a moment.]

I know. But truthfully, would you ever have been ready?

[stanbyme]

[Stan swats Ford's skeleton hand away from his hair.]

What, Ford? Name one thing I've done that didn't backfire in the end. How can I- How can I just go back and pretend like everything's okay when my brother's--

[He's brought his tears under control, but his throat sticks on the word "dead," still, and when he can manage words again he has to wrench them out around the knot in his throat.]

Of course I wouldn't ever have been ready to go on without you. Everywhere we go, we go together, Ford.

[sixfingeredstan]

Your brother's going to be there with you. [Ford's voice is uncharacteristically gentle.] I'm never leaving you, you know. I'll be right beside you the whole time. Probably...probably yelling at you half the time, or saying I told you so, but.

[His voice is definitely choked up by now.]

I'll be there.

[stanbyme]

[Oh good, now Ford sounds like he’s crying. Great, just what he needed. Stan has to take a few shaky breaths to not lose it again, still clinging onto Ford’s sweater like maybe if he just holds on hard enough the last 28 hours or so will all just be a nightmare and he’ll wake up back in the manor with Leia in his arms and Mabel sprawled across the entire width of the bed, and none of the awful events that started with Mabel accidentally killing someone and ended with Ford purposefully sacrificing himself would ever have happened.]

At least no one can say I’m not the good-looking twin now.

[It’s a weak joke, but most of his jokes are.]

If Ma could see you right now she’d throw a fit over how skinny you are.

[sixfingeredstan]

Oh, no, I think I'm still the good-looking twin.

[Jokes are good, jokes giving him a chance to clear his throat under the guise of laughing at his own dumb jibe.]

I've still got this jawline, after all.

[He glances down at himself, and, well, he's still got that barrel chest thanks to his ribcage, but the rest of him is...awfully bony.]

I've got chicken legs to match yours now.