GOD OF DEATH AU

[enigmaster]

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[enigmaster]

[And an exit he'll find. He'll manage to get out, with a little work. And he'll find himself out in the streets.

His ankle, miraculously, not burdening him.

...Better use that and run.]

[agoodname]

[At first, it's all blind panic. And Osvaldus is bolting through that exit, down the streets, thinking of his mother, his mother, did she get out alright--]

[enigmaster]

[It's disorienting. There's people everywhere, though even if Osvaldus stopped to look, none of them seem to have any identifying features. Faces either indistinct or reused, his memories filling in what blanks he can.

And as he keeps running, a cloak, black, far blacker than the smoke could ever be, a flash of a weapon--]

[agoodname]

[a black cloak--and Osvaldus slows to a halt, despite the smoke, despite the people, despite his mother, and stares at it, after it--] ...Enygma?

[enigmaster]

[The figure turns. And it certainly looks like Enygma, but there's no familiarity in his eyes. Simply that cold, disinterested look he had the first time Osvaldus got a proper look at his face. As if Osvaldus is no one in particular. And his scythe is at the ready.]

[agoodname]

[Osvaldus frowns at that, confusion, a frisson of unease snaking down his spine. Wait, that's not right. Something doesn't add up here. He tries to focus on what seems wrong; what seems out of place, but it's just out of his grasp, and it's so hot and so hard to breathe--]

1/2

[erotematic]

No, no, that can't be right... [The voice sounds almost more like an echo than anything. Ethereal, unnatural, far-away, and Osvaldus will have trouble placing it. Not that he'll have time to consider it, as the next moment, the scythe swings forward and--]

2/2

[enigmaster]

[--And Osvaldus is stuck in the pantry, as screams ring from outside.]

[agoodname]

[he barely has time to suck in a hitch of breath as the scythe swings towards him--and suddenly, he's no longer in the burning streets, but in the pantry, and there's screaming and his mother's out there--and Osvaldus puts his shoulder to the door and tries to ram it open] --mother--!

[enigmaster]

[The screaming doesn't stop. And it's only louder now than it ever was in reality. Then... that chill.

The sight of a black cloak visible through the gap at the bottom of the door.]

[agoodname]

[Osvaldus pounds on the door, trying to open it--and then, that chill, and he freezes again, looking down, staring at it] --Enygma. [Osvaldus's frown intensifies, and that feeling of wrongness returns. This isn't right. It's too loud, too noisy, though it feels muffled as he tries to reach for what's wrong now, actively trying to grasp at it, because this isn't right--]

1/2

[erotematic]

[Everything flickers around him for a moment. And... that voice again.] Oh, let's just skip ahead a little, shall we? [And everything shifts, surroundings changed, suddenly, and Osvaldus won't even realize it at first, mind simply accepting things at first. The way dreams seem perfectly natural as they happen. And...]

2/2

[enigmaster]

--your bones look fine to me. [It's dark, lit by candles, and Osvaldus is lying down. Curled into a blanket. And Enygma is right there, touching his face, trailing over his cheekbones. Gently, but the touch oddly muted.]

[agoodname]

[and instinctively, without thought, Osvaldus is leaning into his hand with something like a small chuckle--the terror and horror of a moment ago replaced by warmth, affection, fondness] You're sweet, as always. [he lifts a hand to hold Enygma's against his face]

[enigmaster]

I'm... just stating a fact... [Enygma looks confused and thrown, not sure what he said that was interpreted as "sweet".]

[agoodname]

Maybe so, but it's still the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. [he nuzzles into his palm a little, cool and soothing as it is against his warm face] Your hands are cold. [he doesn't say it like it's a bad thing]

[enigmaster]

As I said, the chill of Death. I... can't help that.

[agoodname]

I don't mind. [his fingers gently trace at the blue veins at the inside of his wrist] I like it. [he closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a small, contented sigh] M'glad you're here.

[enigmaster]

You shouldn't be-- [and things shift, once again, and suddenly they're on a bench and Enygma is biting into a sandwich.]

[agoodname]

[Osvaldus watches as he bites into it, anticipation, nervousness, a bit of excitement all warring in his stomach to make butterflies] So--what do you think? [there's a lingering chill on his cheek, and he blinks, reaching up to touch it. The skin feels warm but... He frowns, slightly. Something's...off?]

[enigmaster]

Mm... [Enygma blinks, as he slowly begins to chew.] This is... I can't even describe it.

[agoodname]

Good, right? [he says it--but it almost feels scripted, for a moment, and everything feels not...solid. Not exactly. Once again, his mind tries to reach for what isn't exactly right here, even as he keeps speaking] You should try the hummus next.

[enigmaster]

[He tilts his head.] What's... hummus?

[agoodname]

That--on the plate, there. Here--[and he tears off a bit of the bread, reaching out to dip it in the hummus, offering it to him] --open up. [He's...happy. He is. They're just spending time together and Osvaldus is just showing him the wonders of food, and yet...it still feels off kilter. Just a little to the left. And he struggles to right it, to find what's different]

[enigmaster]

[...And, dutifully, Enygma opens his mouth. Without any comment or protest.]