Remus Zigadenus's Questionnaire

Travelled around a good bit, but most often I find myself coming back to Santa Fe, New Mexico. The hustle and bustle of places more built up than it are certainly better for getting things done, but personally I don't think that anything beats growing up in the more rural and suburban portions of a place like Santa Fe, and only needing to drive a few miles to see all of that rugged landscape in its full glory. Plenty of historic buildings too, haven't seen anything like the architecture there in any other place I've been to in America.

Suppose I should go to actual Mexico, plenty more to see of it for me to enjoy, but never got around to visiting.

Would be $500 richer if that damn clown didn't get in my way, the freaky thing, means that I'm probably gonna have to pick up some other odds and ends as usual to pay for me to keep travelling. It's what I usually do to be honest, most places I end up stopping in will have some form of work spare, and I'll stick around for a couple of weeks - maybe a month or two at most - to be able to pay my way and move on. Gives me enough time to learn about what it's like to live in a bunch of places all over.

Oh, what kind of work do I actually do? Varies really, if I'm out in the country then there's normally fencing or awful laborious dirty work for someone to get me to do, if not then I pick up a few simple bits at whatever industry the town built up around, factories of all different kinds of odds-and-ends. If all else fails, I've been fine with just sitting there and stocking shelves too. Boring work, awful monotonous, I prefer talking to customers if I have to do retail: but if there's nothing else to do then there's no point sitting there and whining about it.

Can’t say that I’ve ever really had much of a constant routine to work towards, haven’t had any kinda consistent 9 to 5 schedule since I left home. Ever since that mess with those clown maniacs I suppose Priority Number 1 is to get this stupid looking clown makeup off of my face without melting my head off of or something. But outside of that I just wanna get by; see more of the world that I haven’t had a chance to experience while cooped up in a little slice of Santa Fe, hopefully not get seen as some Sons of Salem maniac for running around on the job and flying about with this big old cross I got lumped with.

Would I kill someone, to live my life freely or to get this stupid shit off of my face? I’d prefer not to, unless it’s a demon again or something. I haven’t really killed an actual person before, but lord knows I’ve risked my own life and limb plenty of times by now.

I wouldn’t like to think that I’d do it, but I don’t really know.

Easiest ones to get outta the way are my parents, I guess. My father’s name is Franklin Zigadenus, he was always pretty stern, but he loved me in his own way. My mother’s is Regalia Zigadenus.

(It’s pretty clear that Remus is being intentionally guarded and brief about his parents, even if he thinks that he’s doing a good job of hiding it.)

Didn’t keep in contact with many people on the road until recently, becoming a Contractor changed all of that. I guess once some magic man teleported an extra phone into my hands I probably stopped having a choice whether or not I wanted to keep in touch. Helps that most people I seem to meet these days have powers that could definitely come in handy in a pinch, too.

The Clown:

No, different guy, dumbass. Lot more than just the makeup too: he slathers his mortician getup in all multicoloured paint and acts like one too. Hell, he’s even started getting clowney powers too, scared the shit out of this poor shopkeep by giving him visions of some made-up ‘clown god’ or some crazy shit like that. Think his real name’s Henry, but Mort kinda just stuck, he’s helped me get out of a couple tight spots – but he seems different lately. Real loose cannon type, watched him stab some poor bastard to death with a scalpel for getting in his way. 

Kinda creepy actually, haven’t talked to him in a while for a reason. Starting to wonder whether I should call him back or not…

That Kid with The Bow:

I think his name was Josh or something? He seemed like an alright guy: scrawny and plenty scruffy, but nice enough. He gave me a hand out in Mich- in the Midwest – and by that I mean he sat behind a tree and watched me do all the heavy lifting, but he was alright. Not your usual maniac, at least.

Shit, that was probably his first job now that I think about it. I hope he didn’t see Mort as an inspiration and turn into some kinda killing machine himself. And that the lady with us gave him his arrows back-

Everlong:

Think it was some long nerdy name like that, I mean, the hell kinda parent gives that to their kid? 

No offence to him of course, he had a noble enough cause compared to some of the ones you hear about, he just seemed more than a little outta his depth with the whole Contract thing – given it was his first and all. Met him while I was fixing to make my way out of the Midwest and he seemed to think pretty quick on his feet for a new guy, must be one of those inventor sorts or something.

Hope he’s doing alright, this line of work can be pretty goddamn taxing sometimes.

Jim Baldeagleton:

Greasiness, truck stop fashion sense and stupid name aside, isn’t a whole lot to say. Imagine he’s been in the game a hell-of-a-lot longer than me, and it shows. Bet he’s great at his job on paper too, but at what cost?

This isn’t the sorta thing I should be saying behind his back, but it’s like something inside him that should be regulating his conscience withered up and died a good long while ago. Hardly seems to flinch about casualties for a job – I mean christ, I watched him gut a woman with a pocket knife just because it was the path of least resistance.

I imagine I’d have been much worse off without him helping out, but I shudder at the thought of ever ending up as far gone as he is…

José:

Shit, almost forgot about him. Feel bad for dumping him outside of that Starbucks, maybe I’m just developing a bad habit of latching onto new guys or something. Big guy too, more competent than most the people I’ve met on their first Contract, if not too reckless for his own good. Might’ve just been the drugging though. Haven’t spoken to him since actually, I should probably check if I’ve got his contact info lying around somewhere…

Damn, really going for my throat, huh?

Fine. Elementary school was real small, so I’d say that I fit in. Hard not to with a class of a dozen or so, you don’t really care about popularity or shit like that at that age. Middle and high school were urban and much bigger, since it took in everyone from all the little places around — long old bus ride to get there too. Took quite a bit of getting used to for everyone in my situation, still wouldn’t really say that I was a loner or anything like that. Kinda kept to myself in middle school, but I’d say I had a reasonable enough group of friends from people I knew back home. 

Branched out in high school when I started filling out and joined the football team, drifted apart from a few of my old friends with different hobbies, but made a lot of new ones. I wouldn't say I was a stereotypical jock or nothing, but I was reasonably popular, a good bit more extroverted by then too.

As for my parents – I already told you their names, Franklin and Regalia, so I imagine you want a bit more out of me.

Well, shit, how do I put this… Childhood was alright, they never really laid hands on me or anything like that, just have a feeling that I never lived up to either their expectations – doubt I’d start now either. Dad hasn't been happy with a decision I made since I decided not to take up some college sports scholarship and start moving about, mom's a pretty big religious nut. Don't know what'd scare me more, that she'd be disgusted with the work I do now, or think that I'm some righteous crusader going around burning witches and nonbelievers and shit like them Son of Salem crazies.

Why, you interested? Nah, I'm joking, it's just– weird question is all.

I'd like to think that I've been in love before, nothing that's ever really been that serious though: I suppose. Mostly just puppy love highschool shit. Kinda destined not to go anywhere at that age: when everyone's in that fickle sorta mentality your hormones make.

By the time I grew up and started moving from place to place, I guess not. I've certainly felt attraction to people, hell - even acted on it if you really need'ta know that much. It's just that it's all been in the short-term.

Even with a fine thing like that, I've just never really liked the idea of all of a sudden being rooted down in some place: chained down in the middle of some desert to watch whatever shitty cable manages to travel that far. Something longer term might be nice in the future, maybe even a family, it's just that I don't feel like that's going to be something that I would want for myself anytime soon.

Hell, if things keep going the way they are, it's gotta be some 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂  lady that I find who's interested in some clown with a big sticky hand on the end of one arm..

I don't wanna sound like some kinda immutable man of steel, 'cause I ain't, but I wouldn't say that I have any conventional fears like heights or snakes or anything like that. Even if I do fucking hate clowns, that ain't much of any real fear.

I s'pose that the thing that I like the sound of the least is becoming the kinda monster that some of those more experienced guys end up being, killing innocent people without remorse so that they can get through life a little easier. Killing that poor bastard in Nevada was bad enough, and he was gonna end up worse than dead anyways. I dunno, I don't really have any true phobias besides...

(A long pause, as he realises that they want more.)

Uhh, centipedes are pretty freaky, I guess. They're all venomous and they've got way too many legs for such tiny bodies. Kinda make my skin crawl whenever I see them in nature documentaries or anything of that kind. Wouldn't realise wanna lose my mind from all the freaky shit that shows up in my job either, but the worst I've seen in that regard was those freaky blue clouds that were floating about.

(Remus grabs the top of Creedence; the enormous cross that matches him in size, covered up in canvas and dozens of belts. He wobbles it side-to-side for emphasis and stares, almost at the sheer audacity that such a question was considered to be worth asking.)

You serious? This, obviously. To be perfectly honest I thought this was a pretty shitty down-payment for my dirty work when I first got it, came in a pretty big and inconvenient form too, but by now it's saved my ass more times than I'm willing to admit...

(He raises an eyebrow at the continued silence that demands further elaboration)

You really gonna make me tell you what makes it special too? I can fly with it, helps me from losing my shit when the going gets tough too. Guess I've just real comfortable with having its utility around, even if it's a big heavy lump I'm always having to heft around..

Uhh, shit, that's kinda a hard question actually. I don't really like to live my life with many strings attached, what with all of the moving around, so there ain't much good or bad consistently sitting in my life for any real period of time. 

Most everything in my life, good or bad, seems to drift away eventually: even losing my hand was a problem that fixed itself in time. Only thing that seems to be a constant in my life is the clown makeup, but I'd say that I've pretty much gotten used to that by now.

(...)

All I can really say is that this job can be kinda lonely, leaves you with your thoughts an awful lot with all of the moving around... Most of the people I've worked with aren't particular constants either, some of them I don't even have any contact info with. Just an awful big revolving door of strange guys coming in and out. 

I guess that's a consistent enough problem..

When I'm not on a job- 

1. Wake up bright and early, then get dressed
2. Brush my teeth and try to scour off the clown makeup again (even if it seems to grow back within a couple seconds)
3. Find somewhere to eat for breakfast close to my room
4. Figure out a place I wanna move to next on my phone and write all of the stuff down that seems important. Places of interest that could be fun to see take priority, then a decent place to stay, then some affordable place to eat that's close enough to it. Then figure out how I can get there easily; Greyhounds are my preferable mode of transport since they usually have the most space to bring Creedence, trains are cramped, I don't really like to hitchhike and I can't comfortably travel long distance on Creedence either.
5. Get moving and settle down in the next place with all of the info I gathered

Well black tie events are kinda the bane of my existence, since I don’t really carry many spare changes of clothing around with me, so I hope that they’re fine with me coming as is rather than in a suit or anything like that. 

If I had to do one, and not for a job or anything like that, I’d have to figure out a safe place to stash Creedence: which’d be a right pain in my ass to manage, given the sheer size of the thing. Way more expensive than it’s worth, but next I’d probably have to rent out a suit too. If that wasn’t an option than I’d probably have to shop around for something decent, maybe run off with it if the worst came to the worst: certainly would be a whole lot better value for money for yours truly.

Would rather just rock up in the whole cowboy, clown and cross getup though, a hell of a lot easier for me that way.

Hmm, haven’t really thought that far ahead to be honest. I reckon I’d probably stop in Nevada or Arizona leading up to the time, since they’re both places I’m more familiar and acclimated to. I think all of the zombies disappeared from there too, if they spread that far.

Then I’d find a decent-sized grocery store, buy myself an actual birthday cake, and celebrate that I’ve been able to survive this long in the business in the first place. Probably take myself to church too, pray to whatever guardian angel has been watching over me this long.

Sounds a lil bit lonely, I s'pose I could invite Douglas - but I'm not really sure who else would be able to visit me. Went looking for my parents but they're not on this plane, their old house had some entirely different family I don't remember seeing growing up, and I'd have said we knew just about everyone growing up in a town of that size.

Taking that contract in Nevada. I thought it'd be nicer to be back in more familiar territory closer to home, but things went to shit faster than they did even in Ashleydale. I took on a job for my own gain, and killed an innocent man in the process.

I try to tell myself that it was an inevitability: that the person we were hunting would've been out there anyways, and that if we weren't there then it probably would have been another bunch - one even more heartless than us and causing a greater amount of collateral damage. It doesn't do much to ease my mind. 

I hope that I've been able to make up for that in Alternate Wisconsin. Surely helping to save the lives of an entire country should make up for killing a single man, but the math sure doesn't feel as cut and dry in my head.

To be honest, I dunno. I don't think that this sort of thing is really an exact science, and I ain't much of a scientist myself. Creedence started off as an awful peculiar downpayment for getting into this business. Pretty much every power since has revolved around it, Creedence getting stronger or me getting better at using it. Hell, even braining myself with it seems to give me a hand these days, it's awful cumbersome but it's starting to turn into a real Swiss army knife; between the flying and whatnot.

Only real exception to that theme would be the Sticky Hand, I guess. That's probably related to the creepy clowns that gave me this permanent makeover, and some kinda freaky leftover magic that awakened when my hand got crushed? I'm not really sure, I hope it's not a sign of anything else strange to come, hearing the way Mort was acting the last time he called me gets me worrying about that sort of thing when I think about it for too long.

Probably won’t surprise you, given my hometown and the other stuff I’ve said, but my parents were pretty Christian. There weren’t many days where we missed church on Sunday, and I’d be sure to hear it from my mother if I ever did for a reason other than my arms dropping off.

I went to Sunday school, but I’d say that reading the Bible made me awful less religious, then History class did the rest. I never listened the most in school, or got the best grades in anything that didn’t have “Sports” in the name, but I understood enough to know why’d you offer to forgive sins in return for a bag of gold.

I don’t think that people should be forgiven for their sins because they sat in a booth and rattled off a tell-all to a guy in robes about how sorry they feel. If you want any sorta chance at some kinda forgiveness, you should spend your life working towards righting the wrongs of your misdeeds, and creating more good in the world than there was when you began.

Even then, I don’t think some charity and a couple good deeds’ll do anything to get you through the pearly gates, if they exist. Said something in the Bible about doing good deeds solely for the sake of your soul not doing you any good either, if I’m ‘rembering right.

Do I believe in God? Well, I s’pose if demons and fairies and magical powers like these can exist, there’s certainly room for him too. With all the cruelty I’ve seen across worlds, he certainly must not’ve gotten any kinder through the years though.

Don’t think I’ve got much of a chance with him either, if he watched me run that priest through with a crucifix a couple weeks back.

Oh what the hell, he was a Contractor, he’d turned his back on his morals a long time ago anyway…

Oh, goddamn it, I thought we were back to reasonable questions, quit it with this shit!

..Okay, fine, if this is meant to help me get ‘closure’ on all of this or whatever.

.

You hear conspiracy theories all the time, let alone in my old home, so the idea of Contracts and Harbingers was never something that rocked me to my core or anything. I help some otherworldly guy deal with some supernatural shit they don’t wanna interfere with themselves and they give you powers for compensation. Wasn’t exactly expecting the risk to life and limb from the start, since the stuff in London was relatively bloodless: but started to wisen up to it while I was in Michigan, and everything kinda steadily got worse from there.

What rattled me more were the kinds of things I ended up doing, things that I never thought I would be able to bring myself to do to another person in all of my life: and how frivolously others around me would seem to dole out the same monstrous shit or worse, all without a moment’s thought.

I killed an innocent man, and that’s something I will never be able to take back. Someone I once considered an ally suggested to me that we should destroy an entire world of people who had done no wrong, while stood in a country just like our own. The genocide of billions was something that was reacted to with “Well, that’s what drinking’s for.” And the worse part?

Most seem to agree with them!

I don’t know what I would’ve done with myself if Douglas hadn’t been there to help ground me. If there’s anyone who can come out of this living a normal life, I hope it’s him..