(no subject)

[nothome]

have i ever really been here, though?

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Nineteen Oh Three

When the dog, Allen, died, so did the one boundary separating the Fourteenth from the young child's mind. He took over, but Mana still died.

Ten years he's been in this body. Eleven, and the war is not over-- but the Earl is dead. For now.

So is Allen.

So is he.

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[contravene]

[You know what really sucks? What truly, beyond all reason, just... sucks?

Dying does.

Though, the Fourteenth would probably know a lot about that.

And it wasn't like Allen hadn't seen it coming, either, really. It wasn't like it was easy to miss his world literally ending with him still in it. But it really figured that by the time he finally learned how to live, he only had about seven months before the end.

Just like that, the life of Allen (Walker), and the lives of everyone else on that world ended, and they all passed on to the afterlife.

Well, that whole thing was probably awhile ago. It's not like he could find wherever the hell the Fourteenth spends his afterlife on his first day there. He's probably been dead for at least a year, but he finally found the corner of this place that the Fourteenth is in.

...so just where are you, Fourteenth?]

[nothome]

[he's in a hall that looks.. suspiciously like one of the dressing room's halls. lined with stone bricks and seems to stretch on for a while, but it's warm enough. the window he's looking out of shows a city bustling with noise and activity.

inside, the fourteenth has a pot of still steaming tea in one hand and his other is jammed in his pants pocket. he can't really place where he's sensed this presence before, but he knows he has company approaching.]

Can you imagine the audacity of it all? Fresh tea [a vague gesture with the arm holding the pot.] and no cup to drink it from.

[he thinks it's a bit funny, really.]

[contravene]

[...Well. He's a little surprised to see a hall like this, and he lets his normal hand trail over the brick as he walks. All the places in all the worlds, and you came to a place like this...

It takes a little while, but he makes it there eventually, standing just outside the doorway and looking in.]

Ah... [Two arms. He shouldn't be surprised to see them, but he is, at least just a little.] ...That does seem rude.

[He doesn't wait for an invitation, and just steps inside, over near the window so he can peer out it. Definitely different from the Dressing Room... it's not a city he recognizes initially.]

[nothome]

[it's the place where all worlds seem to come together and at the same time the simplest thing to draw from memory. long hallways with doors and windows, courtyards, magnificent rooms.. almost like the ark. except that has a sky and a tower to go with it, and no windows. and an exit.

there's no exit when it comes to death. just an eternity of watching all the cities he's ever been to mingling together outside these halls.]

I could look for one, but then I'd feel silly walking around with a pot of tea. [and for some reason, he doesn't want to use or look at the other hand, the left one. he doesn't know if he can, or if it's still made of innocence, and he doesn't want to find out.]

[contravene]

[It kind of sounds like a lonely eternity, if you asked him. But then again, he's not really used to the idea that this is forever yet-- Hobo lived most of his life knowing he had a few years before dying. Even as a vampire, that never sunk in, and he's only been dead for so long, too.]

You could just wait for it to cool down, and drink it from the pot.

[After a moment of looking out the window, he looks back at the Fourteenth, and tilts his head a little. Allen's own left hand is still Innocence, but he doesn't look at the Fourteenth's. It doesn't matter if it is or isn't Innocence.]

...You're usually silly regardless of what you're doing anyway.

[A beat. He smiles.] You don't know me, do you?

[nothome]

[living forever (relatively) and being dead forever.. they sound about the same. but he'd always known he wouldn't live forever, even if he might be reborn into another body.]

That's entirely improper! [but he's smiling, if only mildly sardonic, because he can imagine himself doing something like that while he was alive. he watches the city go by for another moment, then turns to look at allen over his shoulder.]

..I know your voice, and I know your face. I've known many of you, haven't I?

[contravene]

[Hah. Allen actually lets out a bit of a laugh at that. As far as he knew, the Fourteenth's existence had been practically made up of doing silly, improper things.] That never stopped you before.

[Allen hums an agreement, and lifts a hand to tap the scar on his face. He's not sure what to think about it not being a good indication of which one he is.] I guess you probably have... by the time I met you, though, I think you only knew me.

I'm a little insulted. I thought I annoyed you enough to be memorable.

[nothome]

[10 years of his life he spent doing odd things, 2 of which were in the dressing room.. doing so many things he would not do in his home world. could not do, mostly, because while the ark was just as big and just as confusing, it had no potion storage rooms and no sunsets, no vampires, no exorbent amount of exorcists. no abundance of noahs.

...no strange tasting tea that turned you into a ferret.]

..True. But even I wouldn't drink tea straight from the pot. [unless, perhaps, he was a ferret.

the scar does catch his attention, but it could be any number of reasons. he's trying not to look at eyes for the time being, as much as he wants his collection back. he's afraid he won't be able to keep any he tries to take, and that would just be a waste of effort.]

I don't get annoyed, Allen. Irritated, but not annoyed. You've never irritated me~

[...just don't ask him his definition of 'irritated'.]

[contravene]

I'm pretty sure you would if the circumstances were right. [Like, for example, if he happened to be a ferret for a day. Though he's sure the Fourteenth would sooner make a nest in a pot than drink from it, at that size. But there's a laugh in his voice as he says it, and Allen moves to lean against the windowsill a bit - not enough to block the view.]

I know I've never irritated you. [Because he's seen the flickers and heard the stories of what it truly meant to irritate this particular Fourteenth, and he was frequently grateful that he never managed to do so himself.

It makes him wonder, though, if the Fourteenth really does remember him, or if he just didn't get irritated by Allens.

...It doesn't much matter. He still lifts a hand (the normal one, the one that was attached to a bum arm when he was alive but that didn't make any difference now) to flick the Noah in the forehead.]