Let's die and get on with our lives.

Don’t even ask their name, that’s a terrible idea, don’t think about how easy it would be, don’t do it. “So, um… This is like, weird and stuff, right? Or is that just me…” She looked away, fiddling with her ponytail. “Is there somethin’ I can do to like, make it up to you? I feel kinda bad… Your skirts are all dirty and stuff.”

After a short lull, and they did mean short, the stranger seemed to scramble again. Maybe their social skills had dulled after talking to themselves so much, but they really didn’t think it was that awkward. They just smiled up at her, trying to bring them both to some level of normalcy. “I mean, you don’t need to, but if you’re offering, I could go for a coffee. Or a white chai. Or.. You know what, I’ll just pick later.”

Harry George Theaker (1873 - 1954) - A song of love

Palau de la Música Catalana, Barcelona

mimmopellicola

She tore out of her reverie and licked her lips as she listened to the person on the ground. “Should I, uh, get that for you…? Take you to the hospital or somethin’?” She blinked as they asked about her. Obviously she wasn’t writhing around on the sidewalk, she was fine. “I’m alright, I think. Thanks for, um, askin’, I guess?” Now she just felt bad.

With only a minor grimace, they pulled themselves from the ground, dusting their many skirts off. Most of this muck would probably stick around until the next wash; the ground here was perpetually soaked. “Hmm? Oh, no. We’re mostly just bitching for the sake of it.” They certainly noted the weird expression on the girl’s face, but they didn’t comment. “Well, that’s good. I know it’s sparsely populated around here, but christ, you should try slowing down when there are other people directly in front of you. If somebody gets hurt, there’s a long list of people who’ll probably have your head on a plate for it.”

“I know, I’m real sorry! I’m kinda a clumsy mess, I didn’t mean to, uh, decimate like this… Usually it’s just mutual scraped knees, I’m sorry.” She frowned, kneeling down next the the person she had sent flying. “Is there, like, anythin’ I can do for you? Do you need whatever the equivalent of an ambulance is in this rinky dink town?”

“It’s uh, pretty okay, man. Everyone needs to get barrelled into every now and then. There’s some deep meaningful statement there about the fallibility of life there.. I don’t know, ask me later.” They sighed, finally rolling off their front and sitting up. They cracked their neck, “An ambulance on this island is a scooter, or a scooter-drawn wagon.” The sixth soul, with no desire to take control, was quick to assess the damage: face destroyed, scraped knees, bruised backside, small headache. “I’ve had worse. I’ll be fine with an ice pack. What about you?”

Sio looked down at the person she had run into, silently thanks the gods that her head was still on. “Uh.. This is probably a terrible question to ask, but, uh, are you okay?”

“Okay? Dude, you kicked my ass.” Almost literally, too. Though, that felt more like a knee than a foot. They maneuvered a bit to get a good look at their attacker, who was.. no one they’d ever met before. The reaper hoped their introductions with the rest of the new residents would go smoother. Or at the very least, less painful.

The kettle screamed and Rei jumped, ears flattening and tail puffing up. She grumbled as she went to get glasses, talking to herself about "that damn kettle always scaring the living shit outta me, why don’t I ever get a new one, and the stupid oven at the cafe, noisy pieces of shit…” She had mostly recovered by the time a teacup was slid across the counter to the reaper, the only sign of distress the annoyed position her ears were still in. “Am I in for another intro now?”

“Ah, yes. It’s the Tenth driving our will now, we should have said as much before now.” They smiled politely, hoping to gloss over the impolite oversight. “And the one before, is who the rest of us affectionately refer to as ‘loverboy’. A week after the Ninth was joined, he was testing the waters of steering a body with other occupants, and fell down three flights of stairs. It was killed, so he brilliantly led the other souls to his girlfriend, thus the Tenth body was found and occupied.”

Jerri Finch (Belfast, Ireland) - Burning Off, 2011    Paintings: Oil on Canvas

As she slept, her hair slowly turned pink from root to tip, though not much else happened. At least for a few more minutes anyway. There was a semi-bright flash of light then, and suddenly there was (still sleeping) Bella, curled up in an oversized t-shirt and shorts next to Nao.

Sighing, they -very gently- tossed the girl on their bed, and retreated back to their cushion pile to collapse into. Problems solved.

Holland cupped his hands over his mouth, eyes screwed shut in pain. “…ow.” He blinked wetly and decided to take a seat in his desk chair. Today, apparently, wasn’t really his day. At all. His hands eventually dropped back into his lap so he could stare forlornly at the tip of his tongue. His mama always did say he rushed too much…

They bounced around, inspecting a plain looking, empty beer bottle. They wondered how in the hell that could be in a collection like this, as Holland shouted mid sentence, then seemed to excuse himself from his explanation. “Uh, Kyā tuma ṭhīka hō? Are you alright?” 

She blinked slowly then yawned. Makers was she tired. Of course when you’re five and it’s the middle of the night, you’re bound to be tired. She’d stopped tearing up the furniture, sure, but that didn’t mean she’d put it back. In fact, she looked as if she were very content in the fort-like structure.

They slumped out of the arm chair onto the floor next to the toddler. Nao was also pretty tired. The reaper had been crawling into bed when they first spotted her roaming the streets of this godforsaken island. They went into work early today, and didn’t get home until well past sunset. The only other employee in the post office couldn’t come in and close up so the responsibility had fallen on them. A yawn, then, “You really should grow up. It’d help me out a lot.”

On the other end of the line, Bella’s ever cheerful voice sounded off. “Hi! You’ve reached Bellarmina Greyling. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”