Re: dock: atticus and mal
Glanced back at the fireglow on the shore of his island home. "At the risk of sounding inconstant, maybe not. Building a fire has plausible deniability. Throwing in sacrifices is active. Can't deny it if the wrong god comes calling." Said it with a straight face. No reason to believe a multitude of gods weren't just hanging around, ready to descend on Repose.
Was 26. About to turn 27. Not so young. Wasn't unheard of to have kids into a woman's 40s. Knew that was pushing it, but wasn't interested in invalidating the people whose lives he'd ruined. Not any more than he'd already done. Didn't clarify. Just chuckled when the man said he wasn't sure he'd be a happy Repose haunt himself. "Met them. Interesting terminology. They communicate via old radio air waves. Assuming there's a radio on that military jet that went down. Old equipment on the abandoned base on the island. Eerie place with eerie sounds. Like a Joker's ransom letter, but composed of other people's dead voices instead of letters."
"Mal. Malachi. Biblical," he theorized with a quirk of brow. "Atticus. Atticus Finch. Mother loved To Kill a Mockingbird. Have the name to prove it." Sat back more comfortably. "No worries about the handshake. But, have to tell you, not very interested in cultivating mystique. Seems unnecessary. Just like being out on the water. Going to be cold soon. Lake will freeze," he explained. Then grinned, somewhat lazy and smug. "Think you shouldn't judge. Walking around in a hoodie looking at big houses. Reason for that?"