John glanced back at Dorian at Markus's words, arching his brows, then turned back to Markus. "We aren't stalking. Just checking. Things get worse once the incumbent knows, even if they won't recognize the truth." he replied, shrugging a shoulder. "Didn't want you to die or anything. There wouldn't be a replacement for you."
Markus sighed. Control the anger, control yourself. “Fine. What do you want from me, then?” he asked, letting out a long breath of air. He didn’t know how he was going to handle this, but it certainly wasn’t being made better by how these two were acting, all smug and rude in his eyes at least. “What does this king of hell job entail?”
"The underworld, it's not hell." Dorian interjected. He had been raised there; naturally he was a bit defensive of the place. "You'd have to move into the Sors permanently. You can't have a double life. Time moves a bit differently between the two. And second, you…you take care of souls and the barriers between the worlds."
Markus rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I have anything to live for here. Half the time, I’m seriously considering offing myself and being done with it.” he said, words flat and toneless. “Look, it’s just me and Flotsam and Jetsam at this point. I don’t know what to do. I hate my job, hate my life, my ferrets are the only thing keeping me going and that’s slim even then.”
Dorian winced. "Then what have you got to lose? Come with us. You can keep…Flotsam and Jetsam." he didn't even konw what or who those were. But Torvin wouldn't mind pets, if that's what they were indeed. He just hoped Markus wouldn't off himself. That would be terribly inconvenient.
Markus shrugged. "Okay. You guys probably know where I live, so… could you take me to my place to pack? And maybe sleep a little?" he could feel a spike in depression rising up, and he knew it wouldn't be long until he just wouldn't be able to do anything. Might as well get stuff ready now.
Dorian nodded a little. "You want the front seat? John will move." he replied, smirking faintly when John gave him a wounded look. "Or you can have the backseat, up to you." whichever would make Markus feel safer? He didn't particularly care which seat Markus chose.
Markus shrugged, climbed into the backseat, not bothering with the seatbelts. He wasn't so concerned about all that, instead he was more concerned with what he was even supposed to do. Nobody had told him he was the king of the underworld now, and nobody had told him what he was even supposed to do with that information. Now, Markus was lost and confused, uncertain of what to do next.
Dorian hesitated for a moment. "Buckle up, please." he requested, looking back at Markus in the rearview mirror. "I don't want you flying out of the car if anything happens and we have to stop suddenly.
Markus shrugged, buckling up. He didn't want to be confrontational right now, not when he was so damn tired and in need of getting home. "So, what even is this weird job thing?" he asked, yawning a little bit. It was almost… cute, a small squeak! hidden in the yawn, vulnerable and almost pathetic if it wasn't endearing before that.
John turned to look at him as he explained, letting Dorian focus on driving. "You're the Lord incumbent to the Sors, technically, but for simplicity's sake we'll call it the underworld. Don't call it hell, it doesn't like that." a strange sentence, to be sure, but a true one. The Sors highly disliked being called hell, not when there were other worlds, other places, that fit that description far better. "Your job will be to upkeep and maintain the barriers between the worlds, along with guiding human souls to the correct dimension after death. You will occasionally have to deal with the denizens of said other dimensions, which may be difficult."
"And what is the correct dimension, then?" Markus asked, this was a lot to take in but he needed something to ground him. He was too tired to deal with this shit, but hey, he might as well entertain the idea that he's the king of not-hell now.
"It's…complicated." John replied. "The souls themselves will often have some form of marker or tell that you will be able to sense. I don't know. Lord Torvin can explain better to you than Dorian or I could, as neither of us has ever experienced it personally." he looked back at Markus again.
“Wait, so like, there’s different dimensions for people right? Is there a dimension for bad people?” he asked, mind racing. “Do they get punished? How am I supposed to just condemn somebody?!” he said, energy suddenly lifting and becoming more frantic.
"There are, yes." John confirmed. "As for…bad people…it's sort of a sliding scale. And it's not that you condemn anyone. Their souls are usually already marked out for where they're going to go. Your only job is ensuring that they get there and don't wander off instead. Some of them tend to do that. Usually out of either forgetfulness or brain fog, or just because they don't want to go where they're supposed to go."
Dorian continued to drive quietly, his right hand resting on the stick shift to move the car through its different gears. He had been asking his father for years if the car could be upgraded to an automatic transmission; the car's appearance wouldn't otherwise change, it was just that Dorian was tired of driving the stick.
"Yeah, but do they get punished? Like, in, like, actual hell?" he asked, feeling worse about this by the second. "I don't… I don't like this. I can't just doom someone to an eternity of suffering, even if they like, eat babies or burn down orphanages. I can't not give someone the benefit of the doubt." he leaned back, closing his eyes.
"They get the afterlife that they deserve." John replied, clearing his throat softly. "Like I said, it's a sliding scale. A mass murderer isn't going to the same place as, say, a petty thief. It's not like the whole Judeo-Christian narrative that you're used to. It's not just the great place or the terrible place. There are all sorts of places in between, better, and worse." he hoped this was making sense.
Markus nodded, slowly. This felt… wrong. "I don't think I can do this. Whatever chose me… it was probably wrong. I'm not one to, y'know, deal with souls. The existential shit." he said.
"The Sors is never wrong. And there's not…we don't have a choice." John drummed his fingers on the dash, grimacing. "We all thought the Sors would pick Dorian. He would be the logical choice. No offense meant to you, of course, but Dorian's grown up around this. We all expected it to be him. And then…it wasn't." his eyes flickered to the brown-haired man at the wheel, then up to the mirror to look back at Markus. "It was you. And, like it or not, you're stuck with it. If you choose to ignore it, the barriers are going to deteriorate, and the apocalypse could– and likely would –begin."
"John." Dorian's voice was firm. "Don't scare him. Please. You always do this."
"I'm not scared of the apocalypse. But I am scared of you, asshole. You could just kill me and usurp my supposed great powers at any time, couldn't you? And yet." he said, crossing his arms. "Look, whether the apocalypse happens or not, I want a straight answer. Why wait so long to tell me? You've been stalking me for a good while now, why not just tell me upfront? I'd probably have believed you after some coaxing." he said. "And why do you feel the need to dance around everything, Mr. Dorian what'syerface? And you, John. You're no better, acting all freaky. Do you just get off to being annoying?" he said, shifting in his seat to be more comfortable.
Dorian parked, sighing softly. "I'm not dancing around everything, I'm just trying to be cautious and not scare you off. Dad said that was the best way to go, and someone has to temper John's…" he waved a hand vaguely at the black haired man, who snorted and rolled his eyes.
"Neither of us can…well, we could kill you, but we can't take your powers. It doesn't work like that. The Sors picks one incumbent. That's it. If you die…we're all fucked." John shrugged his shoulders, looking back at Markus.
"We waited because we wanted to make sure you were the right one. Sometimes the Sors doesn't do the best path-finding, and will give one person's name and another person's, uh, face. So we had to make sure that it was all the correct information before confronting you." Dorian added.
Markus shrugged. "Just my luck. I can't even die and pass the stupid job over to you." he said, a little disappointed. They were nearing his apartment, and he unbuckled as he saw them pull up. "Well, if you wanna come up for some hot chocolate, I'd say you could use it for dealing with me and my bullshit."
Dorian shrugged faintly, taking out the key from the ignition and pocketing it. John put on his sunglasses to cover his eyes, and they both got out of the car. John popped his knuckles as he waited for Markus to lead the way. "We can help you carry anything that needs carrying." Dorian said, as he came around the car to stand with the other two.
Markus nodded. He got out, and suddenly tiredness hit him like a brick. He'd had a high emotion day, had forgotten to take his meds, and overall was not doing great. "Right. Can we… can we just hang out at my apartment for a little bit? I'm tired, you guys can work on whatever you need to but I… I cant, right now." he sighed.
"Sure." Dorian replied, locking the car up. It couldn't be stolen; the magic from the Sors kept that from happening, but he still locked it just to be safe. He and John both followed Markus, letting the smaller man lead the way.