...Okay. Okay. Just - just give me one moment to get my thoughts in order.
[Because boy does she have a lot of swirling thoughts.]
-I was terrified of being eaten, growing up. I knew all about the cannibal restaurants in the Backstreets, how the chefs make death as agonizing as possible to enhance the flavor, that any time I left my house I was at risk of being killed and served on a plate.
...And then when you killed me, it was quick and easy. I knew that you were going to eat me, but it didn't seem as important at the time as your feelings. Being eaten wasn't nearly as bad as I'd been afraid of.
So... I guess, if it isn't hurting me, then there's nothing wrong with it, right...?
1/2; and now she's getting to see his ✨trauma✨
[Said with true, actual horror in his voice at the mere thought - he knows she wasn't implying he would, but that they do...]
...
After my own at the hands of Jean, I know that a prolonged death is the worst torture a person could endure. I made sure yours was as clean and fast as possible - I wanted to be certain you would not spend a millisecond awake and alive. As I said, you're precious to me. Such suffering... I wouldn't even wish it on an enemy, let alone a friend as dear as you.
... I don't think... I could kill you even if you asked that of me, at this point.
It isn't about the taste, or the substance, or any of it, anyway. It isn't even about the warmth of your flesh, the beat of your heart. It's...
That I was allowed to hold such grotesque parts of you, to delve inside you where no one else has... to make you a part of myself in ways that not even a living human could possibly imagine.
A Grim Reaper's psychoplasm needs replenishing. In lieu of light, we use food. That food is pulled apart at the most microscopic level, turned into magic, and woven into our being - And as far as our few scientists can tell, so long as a Grim Reaper doesn't end up too hurt or left in the dark for too long... those interwoven bits will remain for years before they need replenishing properly.
You have literally become a part of my magic, Evangeline. It's... an experience I will never forget. And all I have left of it is the taste...
I would, too - why else do you think I'm resorting to lows like bread that is just flavored like you?
[Yeah. He was ecstatic, happy, thrilled to have the bread - but now that they're discussing the real thing, it's a "low".]
I want for something better - something more harmless, yet more personal... but what else is there? The moment something kills me in this world, and I'm forced to revive... all that was interwoven within me would be lost. I wish I could promise that would never happen, but as a Grim Reaper - especially an Orange magician - the possibility only goes as low as twenty percent.
[...]
Probably. I can't do math, but I'm going to assume that's a fair estimate.
[He actively reels back at the suggestion, blinking at her with surprise and alarm.
...
And a little interest, but he quickly shakes that out of his head.]
No - no. No, that is out of the question entirely. Did you miss the part where I said I would rather become part of a train's wheels than harm you again?
[Putting the loaf gently in its bag again, putting it gently to the side. And then he rolls up his sleeve, looking at her with big wide eyes as he shows her...
No, no... not something so simple as that, no. Blood and ashes can both be mixed into tattoo ink with ease.
[...
He is, in fact, suggesting they bleed her a little to add to ink. For a tattoo. The ashes part is more of a fun aside - that would need him to harm her, which, again, no.
But surely blood would be fine, right?]
Likely, I would come up with a design of my own preference, but based upon elements of yourself... tattoos aren't something we lose upon dying here in Ellipsa, are they? They are, back among the dead... but if I can keep a tattoo without issue, here in Ellipsa...
Well... to be honest with you, small designs such as this are something I enjoy whipping up from time to time. I recently designed the business cards for the three of us in Victoria Housekeeping, for example...
Which isto say, of course, that you can trust whatever I design to look beautiful and fit you perfectly. I was thinking... something a bit like a seal of your own?
[Pausing. Thinking.]
Have either I or Chipp shown you one of our seals yet?
Then your own, you shall have! And I will have it tattooed upon me to remain for as long as I can keep it! Are there any themes in particular you would like me to focus on?
[Anoooother pause, and he digs out his notebook from his bag - something he's already gone and burned his own seal into, flipping to the back page where it remains and showing it to her.]
...I think that if you made me a seal that was supposed to be as cool as yours and Chipp's, and you drew like a dick on it or something, my feelings would be a tiny bit hurt...
[The kiss gets him to perk back up instantly, of course, because he is nothing if not a sucker for affection in all forms - And he picks up that loaf of bread, taking it back out of its bag.]
Do you wish to try it...? Is that what you suggest? I'll happily allow you to indulge, if you'd like.
also fun
[Because boy does she have a lot of swirling thoughts.]
-I was terrified of being eaten, growing up. I knew all about the cannibal restaurants in the Backstreets, how the chefs make death as agonizing as possible to enhance the flavor, that any time I left my house I was at risk of being killed and served on a plate.
...And then when you killed me, it was quick and easy. I knew that you were going to eat me, but it didn't seem as important at the time as your feelings. Being eaten wasn't nearly as bad as I'd been afraid of.
So... I guess, if it isn't hurting me, then there's nothing wrong with it, right...?
1/2; and now she's getting to see his ✨trauma✨
Never.
[Said with true, actual horror in his voice at the mere thought - he knows she wasn't implying he would, but that they do...]
...
After my own at the hands of Jean, I know that a prolonged death is the worst torture a person could endure.
I made sure yours was as clean and fast as possible - I wanted to be certain you would not spend a millisecond awake and alive.
As I said, you're precious to me. Such suffering... I wouldn't even wish it on an enemy, let alone a friend as dear as you.
... I don't think... I could kill you even if you asked that of me, at this point.
2/2;
It isn't about the taste, or the substance, or any of it, anyway. It isn't even about the warmth of your flesh, the beat of your heart.
It's...
That I was allowed to hold such grotesque parts of you, to delve inside you where no one else has... to make you a part of myself in ways that not even a living human could possibly imagine.
A Grim Reaper's psychoplasm needs replenishing.
In lieu of light, we use food.
That food is pulled apart at the most microscopic level, turned into magic, and woven into our being -
And as far as our few scientists can tell, so long as a Grim Reaper doesn't end up too hurt or left in the dark for too long... those interwoven bits will remain for years before they need replenishing properly.
You have literally become a part of my magic, Evangeline. It's... an experience I will never forget.
And all I have left of it is the taste...
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That... kind of makes me happy?
[It's a very bewildered kind of happiness, and she's questioning herself, but.]
I think - that I would like to always be with you, in some way.
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[Yeah. He was ecstatic, happy, thrilled to have the bread - but now that they're discussing the real thing, it's a "low".]
I want for something better - something more harmless, yet more personal... but what else is there?
The moment something kills me in this world, and I'm forced to revive... all that was interwoven within me would be lost.
I wish I could promise that would never happen, but as a Grim Reaper - especially an Orange magician - the possibility only goes as low as twenty percent.
[...]
Probably. I can't do math, but I'm going to assume that's a fair estimate.
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My heart would be out of the question, but a chunk of arm or something could be fixed right up.
[What the hell is she suggesting.]
1/2; againnn
[He actively reels back at the suggestion, blinking at her with surprise and alarm.
...
And a little interest, but he quickly shakes that out of his head.]
No - no. No, that is out of the question entirely.
Did you miss the part where I said I would rather become part of a train's wheels than harm you again?
I would rather --
2/2;
[Putting the loaf gently in its bag again, putting it gently to the side.
And then he rolls up his sleeve, looking at her with big wide eyes as he shows her...
His tattoo.]
...?
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[That's also touching, in a way less weird way than the cannibalism.]
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Blood and ashes can both be mixed into tattoo ink with ease.
[...
He is, in fact, suggesting they bleed her a little to add to ink. For a tattoo.
The ashes part is more of a fun aside - that would need him to harm her, which, again, no.
But surely blood would be fine, right?]
Likely, I would come up with a design of my own preference, but based upon elements of yourself... tattoos aren't something we lose upon dying here in Ellipsa, are they?
They are, back among the dead... but if I can keep a tattoo without issue, here in Ellipsa...
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-And I kind of want to know what design you'd come up with, now that you've brought it up.
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I recently designed the business cards for the three of us in Victoria Housekeeping, for example...
Which isto say, of course, that you can trust whatever I design to look beautiful and fit you perfectly.
I was thinking... something a bit like a seal of your own?
[Pausing. Thinking.]
Have either I or Chipp shown you one of our seals yet?
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Are there any themes in particular you would like me to focus on?
[Anoooother pause, and he digs out his notebook from his bag - something he's already gone and burned his own seal into, flipping to the back page where it remains and showing it to her.]
This is mine, for the record.
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That will always fall to the dandelion.
But they rank quite high on the list, regardless.
[He's also going to jot that down in his notebook, since he has it out!]
Anything else you can think of? Or do I have full artistic liberty?
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[Also the only other thing she can think of is her eye symbol from Chipp's helmet and she's not suggesting that.]
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[A pause, and he taps his cheek with the end of his pen.]
... Would you prefer that I am mature with it?
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I could easily make a dick look as cool as my own seal...
[Muttered, of course.]
Fine, then, fine - I will be mature. It will be stunning and beautiful and without anything you may consider flaws -
As you rightly deserve.
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[Cheek kiss!]
.......I'm morbidly curious about the bread now.
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And he picks up that loaf of bread, taking it back out of its bag.]
Do you wish to try it...? Is that what you suggest?
I'll happily allow you to indulge, if you'd like.
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...Honestly, I'm just okay. Like I don't know what I was expecting from raw unseasoned meat.
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[Somehow he sounds?? Offended??? He's even frowning about the idea.]
... I suppose that would be how others would think of it, hmm. Raw, unseasoned meat... how...
Lacking in romantics.
At least dress up the terms you use, if you must disparage your own flavor in such a way.
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cw: just... casual mention of abuse...
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... this is real for the area ftr, im not making this up for drama,
hissss
hissing well deserved
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1/2;
2/2;
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love that she's not questioning why he can think of all of those w/o any issues
"that seems like something he would know about, sure"
yknow what. she's not even wrong with that assumption, he watches enough true crime documentaries
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1/2;
2/2;
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ah right NSFW
im so sorry he's like this.
she's also like this so,
it's why they make such wonderful friends
weirdoes! (two of them)
a matching set!!
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"pan does he really say *brassiere* of all things" yeah. unfortunately.
yeah he would
unfortunately for all!
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1/2;
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