2

[death_of_terra]

[Kuja is sitting in the middle of the woods, cross-legged, with his chin resting in his hand. Ordinarily he'd be worried about his tail, but right now it just doesn't seem worth bothering to control, and it twitches back and forth behind him in a gesture of half-hearted annoyance.]

My magic isn't working here. There must be some kind of dampening

Comments

[imbalancing]

I'm sure you'll get used to life here soon.

[death_of_terra]

I certainly hope not. It is my intention to leave this listless miasma as soon as possible.

Forgive me - I'm not usually so morose. My name is Kuja.

[imbalancing]

I-I'm afraid there's no way out of here, though.

I-It's nice to meet you, Sir.

[death_of_terra]

Pity we could not have met under more pleasant circumstances.

How long have you been here, to give up hope so completely?

[imbalancing]

I've been here for a while, I suppose? It isn't a nice place, but you get used to it eventually, like I said. It's an, u-um... acquired taste?

[death_of_terra]

I have yet to speak to anyone who believes escape is possible. [it's possible he sounds bothered by this, but only idly]

[imbalancing]

That's because it isn't, Sir.

[death_of_terra]

Do you have a theory as to how such a thing is true?

[imbalancing]

The Reaper said so, Sir.

[death_of_terra]

'The Reaper', oh my. [smile] How ominous.

Who is the Reaper?

[imbalancing]

A physical anthropomorphization of death, Sir.

[death_of_terra]

Physical? You've seen him?

[imbalancing]

...Kind of.

[death_of_terra]

But you do not doubt his title, or his power.

[imbalancing]

There's no such thing as no such thing, Sir.