"He's God," said Skulduggery, using the same tone of voice he would have used in any similarly flippant comment. In fact, the only thing that made this statement any different from a flat joke was the way Erskine side-eyed Skulduggery in the silence that followed. "You met God in Australia, Dexter. Our all-powerful Lord and Creator. Congratulations."
"Doesn't that count as classified information?" Erskine wondered aloud. "Shouldn't you need our permission to reveal it? Although, as long as we're being so open..." He raised his gaze up to the ceiling and pointed at the bear. "Thanks, really. But don't think that this is a viable substitute for a meeting. Because it's not."
"Why are you so worried about this?" Skulduggery asked.
"Aren't you?"
"Not particularly. I'd live quite happily without ever experiencing a face-to-face meeting. Seeing Him in Rafe's memories was more than enough for me."
"Yeah, all right," Erskine relented with a nod. "I suppose I'm just unhappy no one told me about any of this soo - his memories?"
"Yes." Skulduggery's head tilted. "Rafe decided I was being unfair to both myself and Gabe, and took it upon himself to demonstrate how wrong I was by inserting a memory into my head. It was strange."
Erskine stared. It didn't take him long to recover his voice this time, however. "Does this mean everyone's met Him in some capacity except for me?"
"Corrival hasn't," Skulduggery pointed out. "Fletcher hasn't. Paddy hasn't. I think you're blowing this a little out of proportion."
"I just got sent a teddy bear by God," Erskine muttered. "I don't think I'm blowing anything out of proportion. I'm starting to question if 'proportion' is even a viable concept anymore."
They both knew what they were doing, and neither of them seemed about to stop. Skulduggery had just dropped one hell of a bombshell on Dexter, and now neither of the Dead Men were easing up - continuing their banter as if nothing had changed. Because nothing really had. Banter was how the Dead Men made it through tough situations, so familiar as to be their fallback. Comforting. An indication to Dexter that, yes, the world was a strange place and yes, God existed and it was a bit of a shock, but at the end of the day, it really wasn't worth getting all excited over.
That was part of the reason Erskine suggested Ghastly deliver the several rounds of Earth-shattering news, and why Skulduggery had agreed. The more familiar banter, the better, and Ghastly would have provided the added benefit of trying to break it all gently.
no subject
"Doesn't that count as classified information?" Erskine wondered aloud. "Shouldn't you need our permission to reveal it? Although, as long as we're being so open..." He raised his gaze up to the ceiling and pointed at the bear. "Thanks, really. But don't think that this is a viable substitute for a meeting. Because it's not."
"Why are you so worried about this?" Skulduggery asked.
"Aren't you?"
"Not particularly. I'd live quite happily without ever experiencing a face-to-face meeting. Seeing Him in Rafe's memories was more than enough for me."
"Yeah, all right," Erskine relented with a nod. "I suppose I'm just unhappy no one told me about any of this soo - his memories?"
"Yes." Skulduggery's head tilted. "Rafe decided I was being unfair to both myself and Gabe, and took it upon himself to demonstrate how wrong I was by inserting a memory into my head. It was strange."
Erskine stared. It didn't take him long to recover his voice this time, however. "Does this mean everyone's met Him in some capacity except for me?"
"Corrival hasn't," Skulduggery pointed out. "Fletcher hasn't. Paddy hasn't. I think you're blowing this a little out of proportion."
"I just got sent a teddy bear by God," Erskine muttered. "I don't think I'm blowing anything out of proportion. I'm starting to question if 'proportion' is even a viable concept anymore."
They both knew what they were doing, and neither of them seemed about to stop. Skulduggery had just dropped one hell of a bombshell on Dexter, and now neither of the Dead Men were easing up - continuing their banter as if nothing had changed. Because nothing really had. Banter was how the Dead Men made it through tough situations, so familiar as to be their fallback. Comforting. An indication to Dexter that, yes, the world was a strange place and yes, God existed and it was a bit of a shock, but at the end of the day, it really wasn't worth getting all excited over.
That was part of the reason Erskine suggested Ghastly deliver the several rounds of Earth-shattering news, and why Skulduggery had agreed. The more familiar banter, the better, and Ghastly would have provided the added benefit of trying to break it all gently.