(⠀⠀just a number⠀⠀)

"…Oh, it's you, 5012." Fate was a funny thing, sometimes. This wasn't at all how she had pictured their next meeting would go, if they were going to have one at all. Some time had passed since she'd last seen him, though their last conversation often replayed in her mind when she had time to think. It was unfortunate that he'd have to see her like this, in such a vulnerable state. Try as she might to pull herself together, she can hardly stand on her own two feet at present.

❝ ... you should be more aware of your limits, then, ❞ he notes back in turn, knowing a lecture is likely the last thing she wants to hear from him, though it was spoken more in terms of advice than anything. while he, himself, was a workaholic, he didn't have anything that would withhold him from those tasks. though seeing firefly like this... he can only surmise there is something that causes her to fall into such a state. ❝ But you already seem to know that, don't you? The state your in is a reminder. ❞ plainly spoken, he hardly means harm despite how matter-of-fact his words come off to be.

" So. You're the guy, huh?"

HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN SOMETHING LIKE THIS WOULD HAPPEN. rather than a peaceful little stroll he had expected, it had turned into what feels like an accosting of his time. though while it was true that he could keep going, merely walking beyond her without acknowledging her dramatic antics, he knows it would only serve to have her follow him, such was the way in certain mortals who couldn't keep to themselves. and this one? that commentary of hers only served to make him know she had intentionally been tracking him down for something.

SHE HARDLY GOES UNNOTICED RESTING THERE, sticking out relatively easy in comparison to many others, especially given their little, ongoing bet. still, while it is hardly any of his business on what is happening, it still draws his attention to her in a curious fashion. claiming to be fine, offered with a promise, however, was telling enough. he wonders if this is the fated encounter she had thought of when she spoke those words during that day.

"Want it to be me…" she repeats, mulling his words over. It's only fair that she hold him to this wager, that he'll feel differently when he has garnered enough memorable experiences in this city. In her time here, she had met many a disillusioned person, stubborn and unwilling to change. Maybe she would have even considered becoming one of them if she weren't so desperate for a life outside of Elio's predetermined script.

SHORT AS THE REST OF IT MAY BE. these words are not lost on him in the slightest, something weighted in the way she speaks it, mismatched by that hopeful tone in her voice and only further accentuated with the contented nod she gives. some might find themselves cheated in such a way, that it would be regarded as a half-life, never meant to fulfill a whole bargain when one's end was all but guaranteed. and yet he was hardly among those who had such pitiful views, knowing well that each lifespan was unique, belonging once to a single person, even for those who were reborn as he once was. after all, he would not call it the same life when your memories of who you once were all but disappeared upon your awakening.

The table outside the cafe was set and ready for use, donuts were ordered and Klay in a rare moment had set one aside to the ground, before the very sands devoured it in one go. One second and it was gone, missing.

CURIOUS, THE WAY HE FEEDS THE GROUND. reapers were of a wide variety, personalities ones which clash as any mortal on earth, and yet their powers remained strictly similar beyond their glamours. this was a case he had never quite witnessed before, leaving him to conclude one, simple thing: the man before him surely wasn't merely human in any capacity.

Describing their own meeting as a miracle brings her pause. He says it so logically, so matter-of-factly, that it leaves her stunned. An encounter that she may have considered chance, now felt pivotal, in some way. Firefly can't remember the last time she's been at a loss for words, or when she's last felt her heart flutter, only to go away just as quickly. Suddenly embarrassed, she turns away from him, and a hand moves just above her heart to further quiet it. She doesn't answer his question.

IT IS A DEAFENING SILENCE THAT NOW SITS BETWEEN THEM. the flutter of hopes that have once fallen from her lips become quieted, left unspoken in the wake of something he cannot quite perceive, all while a purple gaze observes her as if in seeking that very answer. only none will come to him, unseen no matter how much he looks, nor when she turns away from him. even as she brings herself to speak again, cutting through the hushed air with a resolve incomparable to most others, he can't find himself to be surprised at her encouragement for him to take that gamble. and yet what she says further still only serves to take him aback even moreso.

"A-Are you not supposed to? I thought that was the best way to get to know someone." At least with how they go about their hobbies. After all something as simple as that could really get a clearer picture to how one acted. Or maybe that was a tactic geared more towards people her own age rather then individuals like him.

AND THAT WAS THE PROBLEM IN ITS ENTIRETY. where she seems eager to make connection, he was one who as more averse to it, the want to be left alone more apparent than not. when had such a thing served him in his lengthy life? none that he can recall, those years serving as a reaper conglomerating together as one, even to the point that his exact age has become lost to him. all that remains of any possibility is the weighted ring that hangs upon his neck by a silver chain, nothing else otherwise to ground him to this world but his own convictions.

the sudden, unknown voice doesn't cause olga marie any alarm. the forests lack most natural woodland sounds and even if the other made none in his approach, she could feel him. neither human nor servant but nothing like the large beasts which roam in the eternal night. cordial, at the very least, given his willingness to call out to her. "Not many, indeed." she offers in response, turning her gaze away from depths of the woods to face the other.

THIS REALM, TOO, HAS ITS UNSPOKEN LAWS THEN. it is hardly unexpected, mortals and those unlike them similar enough as to pave a structured life, some guidance to follow so that the world around them may function efficiently. nor are there those willing to part with their ways so readily, following its every letter to the proverbial t, whether it would be beneficial for them or not. but here, in this twilit forest which brims with naught but silence and beauty, he cannot imagine a change would be a good thing. were it to be anything, it would be a destructive force, imbalance surely to follow if it was not preserved, not unless there was truly something diabolical that lurks beneath its peaceful surface.

"the cliche answer of, it depends." Of course such an answer would even be unsatisfactory even to him. of course there was little else to say about the matter, as much as he started it. It was a weak conversation to be had after all.

IF HIS ANSWER WAS DEEMED CLICHE, then so be it. that was merely how this world works, based much upon factual evidence and how those choose to view it, twisting it to their own whims or otherwise. but he allows this man the last say in that regard, no reason to carry on a dying, pointless conversation when neither would acquiesce to another point of view.

"Wow, you're that good?!"

OF COURSE HE WAS THAT GOOD 一 or so he likes to believe given his numerous missions and successful soul retrievals. were he not, surely they would not bother him to train the newbies or to discipline those who have strayed from their paths, teetering far too close to the line of insubordination. nor does he think it's bad to be so confident in one's capabilities, thus his mentality, as she so puts it. whatever the case was, he hardly takes offense to what she blurts out, figuring if she had wished to snuff him in any way, it would have been far less exaggerated.

Brief, yet perfect to encapsulate what any unfortunate enough to be faced with the Abyss were undoubtedly consumed with. Even one as energetic as Charlie would be whittled away the longer he stayed — and having been condemned there by a figment that was once a source of distress for him wouldn't have helped. The thought of he, or others she knew to be resilient yet bound by the limit of mortal strength, tormented in those depths chilled her blood.

SO THIS CITY WAS ONCE A RUINOUS WASTELAND. how peculiar, hiding away these so called locals until its construction, leaving him to wonder, just as she, where they may have been kept in waiting. was it a possibility that only once the city became one proper that they were brought in? though that still makes little sense to him the more he pours over it in his mind, leaving no reason for outlanders as them to recall a desolate island, only to populate it thereafter. no matter how much he attempts to unravel this strange, woven tapestry of mystery, it continues onward without relent.

"Rockets only happen once every few years. Cakes are a wonderful human invention that can be enjoyed all year around and bring more joy then other big projects going around."

❝ Would that not make the point that rockets more valuable than cakes? ❞ that's what his opinion on the matter is, at the very least. were inventions as those so scarce in comparison to something easily attainable, he finds it strangely incomparable. things such as medication and technological advancements were a little different, garnering breakthroughs after decades of research and searching for the answer than a simple recipe.

@fivezeroonetwo