I don't know where I'm going but I'm on my way.

“...Magic. Safety. Security... A life filled with music and love and things that make you feel whole and healed. That’s my hope for all my kids.

For Connor, specifically? He’s my oldest son, and I think he’s real hard on himself. I think he has this idea of what he should be like and I... I hope more than anything he’ll give himself permission to just be... Him. I have... a lotta regrets. Now, I can’t go back and time and I do want him to make his own mistakes and learn from them because that’s how we grow but what I’m sayin’ is: He doesn’t have to be me, or his mother, or anyone else. I want Connor to be Connor. I lost a lot of time by tryin’ to be somethin’ I wasn’t.

Anyway, I’ll stop blabbing on. I just hope he finds true happiness. Whatever that means for him. He deserves that.”

Kerry Halloween ‘20 Costume - George Harrison aka The Best Beatle, 1969 Rooftop Concert Look

“Oh. Sorry. You didn’t tell me,” Noah said, wondering if he shouldn’t have said all that so nonchalantly. “I guessed. I’m a reaper, so I know when people have died. You’ve died before, but you’re still alive, and not possessed, so that must mean you’re a phoenix. Sorry if you didn’t want me to know that. But now you know what I am, so I guess we’re even?” He hoped Kerry wouldn’t get upset with him about it. He looked down at the guitar in his hands, hesitating before holding it back out to Kerry. “Here’s your guitar back. I’ve thought about taking guitar lessons. The phe-guy who owns the record store in town teaches lessons. I always wanted to ask him, just an urge I had, but I haven’t set them up yet. I guess I was nervous. I didn’t want to be bad at it.”

///

A pause, leaning back in his chair, taking a moment to process what he had just been told, “...That’s kinda heavy, brother.” But like most things, Kerry took the information somewhat in stride, “Nah, no need to apologize, saved us an awkward conversation later.” He patted Noah’s shoulder then took his guitar back, slinging it over his shoulder. It was a nice guitar but still not one of his absolute favorites. He didn’t often perform with an acoustic, and when he did it was most likely a custom Martin D18 or a Gibson Hummingbird if he was in the mood. This one was a Seagull Original. Maybe he’d used while recording an album he didn’t remember. And he had, like, two more that he used much more at home. Still, it probably sold for a pretty penny online.

“--Oh, you mean Myles? Hell yeah, Noah. Great kid. Real talented too. Go for it. I’ll even get you started...” Kerry just didn’t see the point in letting the guitar collect dust when Noah could use it so he handed it back to Noah, “Treat her well. And if you ever wanna sell her let me know, I’ll sign it for you. You’ll get more money for it that way. Anyway.” a salute.

“Thanks for the help, young blood. I know Myles, so I’ll know if you don’t go on and sign up for some lessons. I’ll nag you about it, that’s a promise.” 

Marcus shrugged. “Am I? I’m just explaining where my sigils come from because I get asked so often and hear ‘ohhh cool tattoo’s’ all the time.” He rubbed the fresh one on his neck. 

The demon grinned at Kerry. “That’s why I’m fantastic at my job, because I’m unreadable.” He laughed at that as they walked away from the building, Marcus was fine to leave a comfortable silence between them, until he mentioned Ori. “Ask it.” He looked over at Kerry then laughed again. “Maybe I am. I know Ori would be fine with that, we never said that it’s a closed marriage after all.” 

///

He watched the man run a hand over the sigil on his neck, “...So... you get those when you fuck anyone or..?” But his train of thought was interrupted by that look on the demon’s face. Marcus was also fantastic at getting a rise out of literally one of the most laid-back, unbothered people in town it seemed.

“You can’t answer maybe to a yes or no question, Marcus!” He grumbled, “That, basically, means yea, y’know? So why not just say yea, huh? What if I said: ‘hey, Mark, baby, how’s about I suck you dry’ would you answer maybe to that? I don’t want a ‘yea’ I want a ‘hell yea,’ motherfucker.” It was moments like these where Kerry’s rock & roll war flash backs flashed before his eyes. “-- Jesus. Sorry.” A deep inhale, then exhale. “You always get me all hyped up, man...”

He let his voice trail off, lifting his shades now to push back hair out of his face, “...Hold on...” glancing this way, then that... This wasn’t the route to get back to campus, “Where are we goin’?”