[ Dream // 006 ]
The screen flickers a little for a second, indicating that this is a portion of a larger dream which had its first portion cut off. Shinigami is hanging out in his Somarium residence, surprisingly, thoughtfully regarding an abstract, and yet obviously death-related painting on his wall which seems to have tilted conspicuously to one side.
With his left hand--the right being rather clearly occupied by a glass of pale, bubbly liquid--he carefully slides it back into position when--
"Makaaaaaaaaa..."
Death opens his door just in time to allow Spirit to crawl pathetically inside and cling to the leg of the nearest chair. He continues sobbing like a five year old for another moment or so before Shinigami's usually good nature turns rather sharply and a huge hand comes down on his hand in what looks like a karate chop.
"Must you be so loud?"
Spirit seems to recover pretty quickly upon seeing the glass in his boss's hand. Suddenly he's on his feet again, looking like an entirely different person. "Ooh, great timing. You have no idea how much I could use one of those after a long day of being caught at the cabaret dedicated investigation!"
Sigh. "Very well, very well." The black-clad entity grabs for a bottle, uncorks it, and pours some of the foamy liquid into a waiting glass on the table nearby. "But don't drink it all at once!"
Spirit practically sparkles with gratitude. "Oh man, finally." He takes a sip, looking clearly pleased with himself for a moment before something clicks. "Wait, is this drink--?"
"--Sparkling apple juice? Why yes it is~ ♪"
"Hurray," says a deflated Spirit. "Refreshing."
"And also much better for your health~"
"My life sucks."
===
I wonder if it's really necessary for me to always dream about myself in this place~
And with Death Scythe always making a racket, too.
With his left hand--the right being rather clearly occupied by a glass of pale, bubbly liquid--he carefully slides it back into position when--
"Makaaaaaaaaa..."
Death opens his door just in time to allow Spirit to crawl pathetically inside and cling to the leg of the nearest chair. He continues sobbing like a five year old for another moment or so before Shinigami's usually good nature turns rather sharply and a huge hand comes down on his hand in what looks like a karate chop.
"Must you be so loud?"
Spirit seems to recover pretty quickly upon seeing the glass in his boss's hand. Suddenly he's on his feet again, looking like an entirely different person. "Ooh, great timing. You have no idea how much I could use one of those after a long day of being caught at the cabaret dedicated investigation!"
Sigh. "Very well, very well." The black-clad entity grabs for a bottle, uncorks it, and pours some of the foamy liquid into a waiting glass on the table nearby. "But don't drink it all at once!"
Spirit practically sparkles with gratitude. "Oh man, finally." He takes a sip, looking clearly pleased with himself for a moment before something clicks. "Wait, is this drink--?"
"--Sparkling apple juice? Why yes it is~ ♪"
"Hurray," says a deflated Spirit. "Refreshing."
"And also much better for your health~"
"My life sucks."
===
I wonder if it's really necessary for me to always dream about myself in this place~
And with Death Scythe always making a racket, too.