James was wandering around campus. Just wandering. A few times, a goal had been set, a destination popping into mind, but they were quickly killed by lack of motivation. He'd even thought of enrolling, of doing something with his extended stay here in life. He couldn't think of a major, however, and so didn't head in that direction.

In hand was a candy bar and, oddly, it was only slowly disappearing. He wore a bright green shirt with a picture of a large rooster splayed across the front, no words. He wore his pair of black jeans with the white seams, his shoes mostly hidden. No coat today, but he wasn't getting the strange looks. It was relatively warm, windy, and mostly sunny. There were a few puffy clouds which obscured the sun every few minutes.

It was a nice day for wandering. James took advantage of it.

((Blah. Anyway, reserved for Jacko.))

"Hey."

The voice is just full of the potential for sullen-- not to mention just the slightest hint of a Russian accent.

"Hey, James," he calls, jogging just a bit to catch up with the guy. Once beside him, Andrei drops into a saunter.

"Haven't seen you for a while," he says, shoving his hands into the pockets on his grey sweatshirt.

Why bother with a coat? It's nice out. He's just wearing the sweatshirt with a faded skull design on the back and a t-shirt underneath, with his usual somewhat worn jeans and sneakers. Physically, he's the same as always-- midlength brown hair brushed back and mismatched eyes hooded and generally cross. He shaved this morning, for once, so no short growth of hair.

James smiled. "Andrei, nice to see you." He took a bite of the candy bar, chewing and swallowing before continuing.

"How've you been? Nothing too exciting, I hope?" At least, nothing nearly as exciting as their car ride together.

Andrei snorts. "No."

Yes, actually... but it just isn't his thing to admit it.

"Though I did meet a god. Says he was a god, anyways."

"A god? Most people would consider that exciting. Which one was it?" He'd forgotten how hard it was to look at Andrei. It made his eyes feel like they were going in two different directions.

"Obviously it was a good meeting, as you're still standing."

"Yeah, well, he threatened to smite me more than once..." Andrei shrugs this off and continues, his tone casual.

"Said his name was Apoth. God of knowledge or something?"

He turns a curious eye on James.

"You know about this kinda stuff. That sound right?"

Well, he assumes that James might know.

James nodded. "I know about it, yes, but never actually experienced it."

Taking another thoughtful bite of the candy bar, he asked, "Apoth... wasn't he incarnate not too long ago?"

"I dunno, I don't get the Weekly Deity News," he grumbles, with a shrug.

He continues walking, silent for a moment. Then gives James a curious look.

And continues to be silent.

"I think they stopped the production on that some years ago," James replied dryly.

He noticed the looks, the silence, and frowned. "Something on your mind?"

"He said something 'bout you."

Well, that was a bit more obvious than Andrei had been planning on. Oh, well.

Andrei shrugs.

"Did he now?" James asked with the air of someone who should be rubbing their chin. "And what did he say?"

The immortal had no idea what could be said about him. He always thought himself rather unremarkable, despite his lack of aging. Why should he interest a god?

"I just mentioned the car accident," Andrei says, waving his hands, "and you came up. He said that poeple who were like you," he eyes the immortal, "really don't feel much of anything."

A shrug.

"Got my curious."

Well, at least he's resisting the temptation to prod James with a pin and see what happens.

The shrug was returned. "So?" He sounded almost defensive. "Not much of a deal, really. Saves on the heating bill in the winter." This was said with the tone of voice that one uses when trying to look on the bright side of things.

"Is that all he said?" Now his voice was almost disappointed.

"Yeah, that's it." he's really curious, now.

"What, like... nothing? Like, actually not feeling stuff?"

Andrei's mismatched eyes inspect his friend.

"Like, if I punched you, you wouldn't feel it?"

"No, that'd be dangerous. I'd feel it, but instead of being here, it's far away. That probably doesn't make much sense. I feel it, but not really. I know it happening, but it doesn't hurt like it should. Or feel like it should." He blinked. "Or... much of anything."

"That's one reason the car crash wasn't a big deal. I went [i]through[i] the door. If I could feel it, I'd probably be dead from the shock of it."

"Mm." He nods, then is silent for a moment.

A thought occurs to him.

Curiosity brews.

And finally bursts. "You wouldn't feel good feelings, either, do ya? You know... good sensations."

James shook his head. "Nope. Don't feel nothing." Obviously faked upbeatness. "But hey, I'm not missing out on too much. I remember." He shrugged again. "I also remember hangovers." He seemed to be weighing the good and bad here for Andrei, but also for himself.

He's probably had this debate with himself many times before. The good, tha bad, but neither winning out. At least, he doesn't let the good win.

"Mm. Sounds like it sucks."

Andrei wouldn't want to live without 'good sensations.' He's never really had a hangover, so he has nothing to weigh it against.

"A lot."

"Your comfort is well noted." James took a consoling bite of the candy bar.

"Besides, trust me, somethings don't need to be experienced."

"Yeah, I guess not."

He walks in silence for a bit.

"I don't think you ever told me how you got, you know. That way."

Andrei, shying around words? Only the ones that involve 'magic.'

"I made someone angry." It's said with a finality, like he doesn't want to talk about it. "A long time ago."

Involuntarily, his hand went to the charm at his neck.

"How long?"

Prepped by television and popular fantasy, he continues, "Two hundred years? Three?"

James let out a bark of laughter. "No, not nearly that long." He shuddered. "I'm afraid of that age."

He shrugged. "No, I'm closer to one hundred. Not quite, but almost there. I made them angry about eighty years ago."

"Oh."

Well, it's possible, anyways. Eighty just isn't as cool a number.

"Yeah, I guess the big Triple Digits is a bit scary..."

"Yeah, a bit. Especially since I don't have the nice buffer of senality." James tapped his head. "This doesn't get any older either."

He took another bite of the candy bar, finishing it off. "But at least I look better than anyone else my age." He grinned. "Most of them are dust."

"No fucking kidding."

Andrei jerks his chin to a small smoking area against the brick wass of a nearby building and begins heading in that direction.

"You seem pretty modern, I guess."

"Gotta be," he replied, changing direction. "Wouldn't be too great if I still walked about in the style of my teenaged years. Wouldn't fit in. Too much attention."

James looked at Andrei as directly as he could. "What about you? How long do you think you'll last?"

Andrei shudders, just a bit, and pulls the pack of cigarettes roughly out of his sweatshirt pocket. A few shakes and he has one in his hand. A flip of a light and it's lit.

He takes a drag before responding.

"God, I don't know. I really don't want to fucking think about it."

"You'll have to sometime." James leans back against the wall, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Everyone will. Just like everyone'll die. You'll just go on a bit longer."

He grinned. "Better make plans now."

"What, and you made plans, when you got the person with the perverse sense of punishment pissed off?"

This is said with a rather derisive wave of his hand towards the older immortal.

"I don't care. Who the fuck knows."

"No, I didn't. Not at first. Which is why I'm telling you. Don't make my mistakes." He shrugged. "However, if you want to figure it all out for yourself, be my guest."

James pulled out a small foil covered piece of chocolate from his pocket and after unwrapping it popped it in mouth.

"Wouldn't I be figuring it all out myslef anyways?" he challenges, sticking the cigarette back in his mouth and dropping his hand to his sweatshirt pocket.

"Yeah, but if you planned now you'd have something to fall back on if things went wrong, as they have a habit of doing." He glanced over. "I have to admit, though, improvising is much more fun."

"How would I plan, anyways? I mean, I wouldn't know where t'begin."

The cigarette wiggles as he speaks, slightly muffling his words.

"I mean, s'not like I got a crystal ball and can tell what's coming."

"No," James said, "but you can buy stocks. Make investments. Doesn't sound fun, but if you choose the right one you'll be set. Of course, you can cheat, I'm sure."

He grinned. "Just as long as you cheat with style, no one seems to care."

"Mm. I guess." A thought seems to occur to him. "Fuck."

He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and taps the ash off the end, meeting James' eyes seriously.

"I'm gonna have to move in a few years, right? Like, when it gets to be a long enough time that people are suspicious. Not for a while, yet, but... fuck. Eventually."

"Mm, depends. If you make a lot of connections with people who'd get suspicious, then yes. But if you meet with people regularly who know, then not really. Of course, you could just pretend to be your son." James shrugged yet again. "I haven't moved for a while. Most of the people I know already know."

"I guess... if anyone asks... no, wait. Fuck." He scowls and gestures angrily to the left side of his face-- the white eye, the white hair.

"It's just a little too fucking obvious."

James made a dismissive wave. "Just call it heredity. How many people do you think will live that long that a memory that well? People believe what they're told."

"I guess," he mutters, shoving the cigarette back into his mouth.

"'ve you had a lot of problems with it?" With immortality.