Kaisel
Haters on my back like a backpack
His arms fold over each other, mindful of the flowers he's holding, as she passes him one of her classic looks. "How do you know if I've been in love or not," he scoffs defensively, though there's still a light enough edge to it to suggest he isn't actually insulted. Maybe he hasn't been able to be in it freely, openly, but he's had Love.
It all breaks though as he follows after her, hands tucking behind his back as he laughs faintly. "Right now? No, definitely not. But let's assume you're an old old woman, you don't think going quietly in your sleep is not only possible, but preferred?" If he doesn't go out in a blaze of glory in his youth becoming a hero, that sounds like a nice way to go, and one he wishes for her, because then it means her life would have been long and full enough to finally rest peacefully.
"Hmm, I'd hate for my wife to be sad and miss me every day," he counters with a low hum. "If she doesn't join me in eternal bliss in the afterlife too soon, then I hope she'll move on and find someone new to spend the rest of her days with together here." That might complicate things later in Mort's realm, but that'd be worth it, if she could enjoy more of life while she had it. Love is big enough to be found more than once, he thinks.
As for a headstone, he's rather in agreement. He'd want something big, shiny, loud. Something that people could admire and climb on and love just as much as they cried over. No marker though? "So what, just prop your skeleton up in the living room?" he asks with a grin, because he's certain he already knows the answer.
It all breaks though as he follows after her, hands tucking behind his back as he laughs faintly. "Right now? No, definitely not. But let's assume you're an old old woman, you don't think going quietly in your sleep is not only possible, but preferred?" If he doesn't go out in a blaze of glory in his youth becoming a hero, that sounds like a nice way to go, and one he wishes for her, because then it means her life would have been long and full enough to finally rest peacefully.
"Hmm, I'd hate for my wife to be sad and miss me every day," he counters with a low hum. "If she doesn't join me in eternal bliss in the afterlife too soon, then I hope she'll move on and find someone new to spend the rest of her days with together here." That might complicate things later in Mort's realm, but that'd be worth it, if she could enjoy more of life while she had it. Love is big enough to be found more than once, he thinks.
As for a headstone, he's rather in agreement. He'd want something big, shiny, loud. Something that people could admire and climb on and love just as much as they cried over. No marker though? "So what, just prop your skeleton up in the living room?" he asks with a grin, because he's certain he already knows the answer.
Blowin' up I'm fucking flawless
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
