(Untitled)

[no_justice]

Death is in the bar. With a candlestick.

Not with a candlestick, per se, but there's a candlestick on his table. Also wine, and curry.

Yeah, Death's having a candlelit supper for one.

Life's hard, for an old bachelor.

[The three little tags: Sabriel, The Russian Astronaut, Stark]

Comments

[aimedforthemoon]

Smoking is not something that Esfir has indulged in for...years. But given the jungle outside is stopping her from her daily run, the dead astronaut feels somewhat justified in, well. Indulging.

Of course, if she isn't careful the cigarette is going to burn her fingers.

It's so hard keeping these things straight when there is a seven-foot skeleton having dinner.

By candlelight.

[no_justice]

That habit will... Death starts.

Oh no it won't. I'm sorry.

[aimedforthemoon]

A crooked smile.

"I've heard that."

[no_justice]

He grins - keeps grinning.

Why do humans do it?

[yeeeeeeeeeeeeee]

"Aaaaaall our times have come
Heeeeeeeeeeere but now they're gone"

Death's candlestick has company.

[no_justice]

Hello, says Death.

[yeeeeeeeeeeeeee]

They wave happily at him.

(With their tails.)

"Seasons don't fear the reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain
We can be like they are!"

They like Death.

[no_justice]

How can you be like the wind?

[walksindeath]

Sabriel will probably realise that she's staring rudely soon, but it might take her a moment. On walking down into the bar, her Death-sense - which had been a strange but muted hum before - had gone literal on her, screaming out the fact that Death is right here and yet she isn't there.

And it's a skeleton. Having dinner.

[no_justice]

The dinner, by the way, is a curry. Not the kind of curry one might find in India, Klatch, Thailand, or anywhere that invented curry.

It's more water than spice, and there are sultanas in it.

Death dips a Keema Naan into the curry and looks up.

He grins.

Curry drips down his fingers.

Hello.

[walksindeath]

Odd, it smells rather like something Sabriel might have had at school when Mrs Umbrade was feeling adventurous.

"Hello," she says faintly, swallows and tries to sort out her senses. No Free Magic, or anything that reminds her of the Charter, either, just Death. But no apparent threat either. That's reassuring.

You know, a bit.

[no_justice]

It is a pleasant evening, Death tells her.

He doesn't mean to, but it does seem like he won't take any argument.

[mysideyourside]

The Banik is attuned to death.

So when he sees Death, well... he headtilts.

[no_justice]

Death looks up from his meal after a few seconds.

Hello.

[mysideyourside]

"What, what are you?" Stark asks.

[no_justice]

I am Death, says Death.