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thenearshore2017-12-31 07:55 pm
somakemelaugh) wrote in thenearshore2017-12-31 07:55 pm
Entry tags:
[open]
who: Undertaker and whoever happens across him during this time
what: Undertaker is now a god and he's seeing that
when: Sept 30
where: The temple of Anubis/Undertaker
warnings: None
That morning when he awoke, nothing felt right and everything was just as it should have been. He sat up with a start, as if something had jolted him like a touch from a power line, eyes wide and wild and staring straight ahead of him. But what concerned him was nowhere around him, slinking in the shadows of the rising sun, only inside of him.
He knew.
Every waking moment, from his birth to his untimely death and the noose around his neck to his bastardized revival and training as a grim reaper to his abandonment of it all and the parlor and Claudia. The Phantomhive estate. The bodies in his morgue. The fire.
The boy.
The demon.
He knew. It all had come flooding back to him in the night as if it had been there all along, waiting for him to wake to it. His unnatural life, his eyesight, his fighter's reflexes. The weight of his death scythe, how well he danced with it. His mortician's hands that knew the touch of dead flesh so well, the smell of paints and formaldehyde and cleaning fluids. And he knew something else, too, something he hadn't known in his past life. There was something waiting for him now in this world, something calling to him.
Curious and unafraid, he stood and stepped out of the room he had been in and landed right in front of the temple. Like his newly rediscovered ability, the temple looked like it had been here all along, but he couldn't remember having seen it before. Something this large and this color in this place would surely have caught his attention, poor as his vision was. Still, here it was all the same.
The statues seemed to watch him as he stepped inside, taking it all in, but he paid them no heed and they seemed to welcome him in. It was almost comforting. Past the doors, he turned his head, following the pull inside him, and ignored the rest of the structure until he came to a shrine of sorts. There, he couldn't help the grin that split his face, or the giggle that started in him, quiet at first until it became full blown laughter. By the end of it, as he calmed down, he needed to seat himself on the foot of one of the statues nearest to him to keep himself from falling over, hugging his aching sides.
The statue across the room stared at him - turned its head and stared at him - ears perked, and Undertaker stared right back. "So it's you, is it?"
The dark stone did its best not to respond, only tilted its head as if in question.
"Just like old times." He lifted a hand, pointing a finger at the towering figure. "Only because you made me laugh, but don't get any ideas about keeping me around forever like the other one did."
The statue of Anubis slowly lifted its head back up to its original position and moved no more, and that was the only answer Undertaker would receive. He snorted, just this side of giggling again.
"Gods."
what: Undertaker is now a god and he's seeing that
when: Sept 30
where: The temple of Anubis/Undertaker
warnings: None
That morning when he awoke, nothing felt right and everything was just as it should have been. He sat up with a start, as if something had jolted him like a touch from a power line, eyes wide and wild and staring straight ahead of him. But what concerned him was nowhere around him, slinking in the shadows of the rising sun, only inside of him.
He knew.
Every waking moment, from his birth to his untimely death and the noose around his neck to his bastardized revival and training as a grim reaper to his abandonment of it all and the parlor and Claudia. The Phantomhive estate. The bodies in his morgue. The fire.
The boy.
The demon.
He knew. It all had come flooding back to him in the night as if it had been there all along, waiting for him to wake to it. His unnatural life, his eyesight, his fighter's reflexes. The weight of his death scythe, how well he danced with it. His mortician's hands that knew the touch of dead flesh so well, the smell of paints and formaldehyde and cleaning fluids. And he knew something else, too, something he hadn't known in his past life. There was something waiting for him now in this world, something calling to him.
Curious and unafraid, he stood and stepped out of the room he had been in and landed right in front of the temple. Like his newly rediscovered ability, the temple looked like it had been here all along, but he couldn't remember having seen it before. Something this large and this color in this place would surely have caught his attention, poor as his vision was. Still, here it was all the same.
The statues seemed to watch him as he stepped inside, taking it all in, but he paid them no heed and they seemed to welcome him in. It was almost comforting. Past the doors, he turned his head, following the pull inside him, and ignored the rest of the structure until he came to a shrine of sorts. There, he couldn't help the grin that split his face, or the giggle that started in him, quiet at first until it became full blown laughter. By the end of it, as he calmed down, he needed to seat himself on the foot of one of the statues nearest to him to keep himself from falling over, hugging his aching sides.
The statue across the room stared at him - turned its head and stared at him - ears perked, and Undertaker stared right back. "So it's you, is it?"
The dark stone did its best not to respond, only tilted its head as if in question.
"Just like old times." He lifted a hand, pointing a finger at the towering figure. "Only because you made me laugh, but don't get any ideas about keeping me around forever like the other one did."
The statue of Anubis slowly lifted its head back up to its original position and moved no more, and that was the only answer Undertaker would receive. He snorted, just this side of giggling again.
"Gods."