Sixty-Fourth Rebirth [Video]

Nov 27, 2011 02:54

[Yuca is cutting potatoes in Kurotsuchi's kitchen when the feed clicks on- he's humming softly to himself as if he didn't really have a care in the world, despite this last event. Sure, he looks tired, but he always looks tired. The PCD is apparently on the countertop, set to record him, but without distracting him from his cooking.]

All I'm going to say, [he finally murmurs, focusing on the potatoes as he slices them, a hair too thin,] is that reality is nothing but a clutter of memories, with new ones added as you experience them. We are defined by our memories, shaped by the experiences we still hold inside of our minds. As long as you remember the kiss of Adstringendum- the snows of it on your cheek, the sweat from the sun dripping down your back- then it was real to you, regardless of whether or not anyone else believes you. That aside...

[A long pause, and he seems satisfied with that, slicing another piece. It takes him awhile to speak again; and when he does, it's almost to himself-]

One less angel. I can hardly say I'm surprised. I didn't believe in angels anyway.

[The knife slips, Yuca slices through his thumb, and blood seeps out, ruining the piece of potato he's cutting. He stops then, gently sets the knife aside, and looks at it, as if it didn't hurt at all. After a long pause, Yuca pops his injured thumb in his mouth, sucking at the blood, and reaches over with his other hand to absently turn off the PCD.]

[Text || Some time later || Private to Kurotsuchi]
Johannes Cabal is gone as well. He was the only other scientist here worth a damn. You have been, and now remain, my only way to find death. I am going to raid his lab for any equipment soon, if you'd like to join me.

i'm also a priest on sundays, here comes the crazy train, *event, not exactly as planned, yuca knows everything(or maybe not), calling all the angels, not a big deal, michael come kick ass for me, not all angels have wings, this is not my true face, thanks mayuri, too many memories, web of secrets

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