zephyr
Talking to a bundle of rags with a mask is weird, but not as weird as talking to your dead kid who's actually a bundle of rags with a mask so you know what? You'll take it. You watch the weird little god settle in atop its shrine, trying not to let the word cute flash into your minds. Gods aren't cute, especially death gods. They're tricky, wicked, clever, heartless. They fuck with mortals and leave them in pieces.
And here you are, trying to bargain with one.
"Yeah, sorta," you agree, nodding speculatively. "'Cept readable. So I can see where I'm at, goin', all that." 'Course it ain't easy. Nothing worth having is easy. For a minute you consider giving up on the whole thing because the last thing you need is to be indebted to a god, but man, you came this far - might as well go all in. You suck in a skeptical breath, raising a scarred brow. "How hard we talkin' here?"
And here you are, trying to bargain with one.
"Yeah, sorta," you agree, nodding speculatively. "'Cept readable. So I can see where I'm at, goin', all that." 'Course it ain't easy. Nothing worth having is easy. For a minute you consider giving up on the whole thing because the last thing you need is to be indebted to a god, but man, you came this far - might as well go all in. You suck in a skeptical breath, raising a scarred brow. "How hard we talkin' here?"
burn all the things you have to burn
save all the people you're supposed to save
save all the people you're supposed to save
