...nice day, isn't it?
[It's not, really. Yuca is staring absently out the window, somehow deep in thought.]
Spring is coming soon. I want to plant more flowers with Rain- show him how. He'd like that, I think.
[He takes a deep breath, seemingly- not there. To those who don't know him extremely well, he just looks sleepy, or like he's just
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[It's a voice bound to be sympathetic if she knew, but of course she doesn't know Yuca well enough to pick up on the tension.]
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[He smiles at her.]
I don't remember very well, but I think last year, there was a grand ball that lasted for almost a week about this time. I think I still have my dress clothes from it.
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Some of the angels say He is dead.
The truth is that he's never cared so much as people think he did. He's a scientist; he's the kid stomping on the ant hill to watch them try to put it back together. And he's so very, very bored with you all.
So you get me. But Yuca...I can help you more than he ever would. You think you're the only one who longs for peace? For true death? I was banished for it.
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...what do you mean? You... wanted to die as well?
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Peace. No time, no space, just....
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[It... makes sense, that the devil would hate mankind. Yuca swallows hard- there was never hatred on his part, not toward man. Apathy, yes, but never outright loathing.
He nods in understanding, and hesitates just a moment, before he simply can't anymore- the question that's haunted him for ages, lifetimes, eternities, finally bursts forth-]
Why? Why am I like this? Please-
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What's wrong?
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...you said you knew of the devil in your world. Tell me more about it?
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[He asks quietly.]
I can meet up with you there. Try to get the others out of the house though- I don't-
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