It isn’t very often that the reclusive ghost king ventures out from his domain in the sea. He prefers to remain uninvolved in the matters of others unless they dare encroach upon his territory. On occasion however he ventures back to land. Sometimes it is to Ghost City, sometimes it is to Fu Gu, and other times its simply wherever he happens to go. But even then he usually keeps to himself. He doesn’t expect to cross paths with Qi Rong. ( Or anyone for that matter. )

   Gold eyes flick downwards to the bowl that is offered up to him, half eaten and certainly towards the cannibalistic side. Although, he is not one to speak on such matters when he’s devoured other ghosts, torn them apart when lost in the raging tides of hunger and just as merciless as the hungry sea he rules over. ( And, on occasion, simply because he has need of a particular ability that the unfortunate ghost holds. ) Frankly, he's not sure it even counts as cannibalism once you became a ghost, or simply luck like birds feasting on other birds.

   Unlike Hua Cheng, He Xuan neither greets the other with disdain nor with particularly enthusiasm. “  . . . “  He cannot say that the antics aren’t to be expected from what he knows of the other. Big talk and show for one who isn’t a king. Engaging such behavior only encourages it – attention is attention, be it good or bad.

jacob's ladder sentence starters

Dead leaves tumble across the path, caught in a gust of autumn's final breath before winter seizes control. He stares at them, watching how they dance as a final swan's song before they flutter into the pond and fall still under the additional weight of water's grasp. It's a calm sight, one he might otherwise have enjoyed and reflected upon.

He does not today.

Chrollo's lips curve slightly, a smile that is a ghost as much as the one beside him is. In truth, Chrollo is not sure which is worse. To never be able to give a final goodbye, or to be able to when she should be resting in peace. There is, of course, the chance this is nothing more than a Nen trick - but there is also a chance Nen offers her a wobbly bridge back from the other side. Chrollo knows his spiders ; this is Pakunoda's soul.

He does not ask about the other side. He does not ask if she has seen Uvogin on the other side.

" I was told your funeral was quite beautiful. " Chrollo says instead, grey eyes staring ahead at the landscape rather than at her. " I'm sorry I could not bear witness to it. " Though she had disobeyed what he had desired for her to do, she had been true to herself. Ultimately, that was the heart of the Phantom Troupe. He could admire those who knew themselves well enough to follow themselves, even if it was in opposition to his own ideas or desires. It pains him to know that he could not be there for Uvogin or Pakunoda. It is a guilt that will linger in the halls of his heart.

Only now does he turn to face the ghost that lingers by his side the same way she had in life. He wonders if she appears the way he knows her best, or how her own soul has decided to shape itself to her whims. She looks lifelike if not for the faint outlines of the background that could be seen through her. However, it does nothing to fool Chrollo. Even should she be solid entirely, he would not be deceived to the truth of her passing.

" I can see you. " Chrollo chuckles, only a handful of notes that die out like the fading resonance of an organ in a cathedral. Grey eyes hold a knowing glint to them, meeting her eyes before he looks away. " You don't need to worry, Pakunoda. " He assures her spirit with the same calm tone he's always offered up, unshaken in the face of death and despair. " I know there is little that I can do beyond offer your soul solace, or fulfill any wishes so that your spirit may rest. "

Death is not a foe to beat, and Chrollo has never feared for the day the scythe might come to claim him. He walks peacefully with that knowledge - much to the horror of some like that musical hunter who'd despaired at the sound of his heartbeat.

" The goal is to keep the spider alive, not the individuals. Any of us may pass and be replaced. " Such was the motto of the Phantom Troupe. But that did not mean its head did not grieve for the loss of each of his spiders. To lose any of them was to lose a piece of himself. It was to lose a fraction of his identity when the only identity Chrollo had was as The Spider. But in him all those who were gone would find immortality for as long as he lived. They were never to be forgotten.

Freminent makes many mistakes.

He doesn't speak up enough, and even when he does sometimes he says the wrong thing. Despite double and triple checking his machinery, there are times they still sputter and steam before grinding to a halt. Yet still his siblings have always been patient with him, helping with a guiding hand instead of a scolding one.

He'd like to help Lyney the same way, and he's sure with some proper thought the terrible mistake will become a little one, the same way rough tides settle down. That is, until he hears exactly what the terrible mistake is.

"...Lynette is going to kill you," he agrees, with a solemn nod. If Lynette's tea had joined the ocean of Lyney's stage props there was no guarantee that it would be found in time, even with the two of them looking."I think... if we leave right now you can run to buy her more tea."