They live in the same building. Oh, they’ve never met, not in any formal or meaningful way. They see each other on the elevator, maybe hold the door for one another if they’re coming or going at the same time. They bumped into each other once in the basement laundry facilities. Barely muttered ‘hellos’ and ‘good mornings’ are the only words they’ve ever exchanged.
Matthias is perfectly content to keep it that way. He’s not a neighborly sort. He chose this apartment because it suits his needs and his aesthetic, not because of the other people occupying it. And while he can occasionally get a sip of delicious sin from those in closest proximity, Matthias adheres to a ‘don’t shit where you eat’ policy. Meaning, he’ll typically leave his neighbors out of his games. He has no designs on them. That’s just to keep additional complications out of his life. Secure access means someone he’s jilted or angered or otherwise ruined can’t come knocking on his door at some ungodly hour (not that he sleeps) or worse, when he’s with someone else.
But something changed that rainy morning when Matthias spots a familiar face in a nearby coffee shop. Ah, yeah, the guy he quite literally bumped into doing his second least favorite chore: laundry. That’s where he knows that face from. Maybe it’s something about seeing him outside the usual, expected environment that shifts Matthias’ thoughts on him. Truly, he’s never given him much thought at all. Like all his neighbors, the demon’s allowed this one to simply be vague and faceless, without any rich inner life for Matthias to ponder.
Suddenly, he’s an actual person.
One who’s done nothing to deserve garnering the demon’s attention.
Their orders are called out one right after the other. By merit of being closer, Matthias gets to the counter and accidentally-on-purpose takes the other’s cup and makes his way toward what he refers to as the sugar station. He waits a beat, then two, enough time for someone to maybe peel the lid off to add cream and sugar and whatever else they like. Enough time to notice that this isn’t what they ordered. When he turns back, his neighbor is the only other person standing on this side of the counter. Turning the cup in his hand to read the name, he comes over, affixing a convincing sheepish grin to his face.
Usually, the mess in the kitchen is due to Hurricane Matthias intentionally being a careless thing while preparing a meal or a snack. This time? He was fussing over a bag of Frosted Flakes. The bag tore magnificently and a rain of cereal flakes cascaded around before his eyes. Before his eyes!
The color fades from the world as he watches, hypnotized, while the flakes seem to move in slow motion from the air to scatter across the kitchen floor. Something in the very core of him snaps and an irresistible compulsion grips him. It claws up from somewhere deep inside, wrapping around him with a vise-like force. Of all the things Matthias can do, to be held hostage by such a thing as this!
The empty bowl and the rest of his breakfast forgotten, Matthias follows the impulse that now controls him and sinks down to his knees to start counting those damnable Frosted Flakes. And there he sits, hunched over and wholly focused when someone else finally wanders in.
There was a pattern to some deaths. They could be caused by creatures like demons at times and he'd been there to take away plenty a soul fed upon until there was nothing left. Usually they were just a husk of who they were when he claimed them but in death they found peace. At least, that was the intention. There had been some who had the energy to still try to fight against Death himself to keep living.
A pointless task. No one could fight Death.
But today he'd taken away a soul and found it was near one who could be the cause of these deaths at times. Not this one but it was enough for him to take notice. So he moved like a shadow through the building to enter the dwelling.
To find the demon counting cereal on the floor. Curious.
Quietly Death watched him, intrigued as to why this demon was living in this particular building. Was there a victim nearby? Or in this very place? Well none of that could be revealed until after this counting was completed. Demons could be very focused on the matter and interrupting it could be...impossible.
Impossible, perhaps? Maybe if Death were a more noticeable presence, Matthias would’ve looked up at the intruder then gone into a rage over having to start over with his counting. Perhaps it was best for the demon that he was so highly focused and his visitor was so unassuming.
And inhuman visitor. Something that wasn’t like him, something that was a force of nature. Something old and patient. It was certainly saying something when Matthias acknowledged something as old. But it was all in the back of his mind, focus laser sharp on moving each individual cereal flake to indicate it was counted.
The thing about Matthias, though he was an endlessly hungering creature made of greed, he didn’t enjoy killing his victims. They could live without guilt. He never took it from them completely – it didn’t behoove him to have the world filled with psychos who didn’t feel remorse, regret, and that delicious guilt. He’d starve if they didn’t feel bad over their sins.
But sometimes, yes, they died. After he wrung everything he could from them, after he played whatever part they wanted to make himself an integral part of their lives, then vanished without warning. After he made his promises (lies), ruined the things they loved so that they would forever remind them of him, after he grew bored of them… Yes, sometimes they didn’t want to live anymore, but was that really on him?
That sounds like a them problem, not a Matthias problem.
Once all the Frosted Flakes were scooted to one side, Matthias heaved a small sigh and craned his neck in an almost birdlike fashion to stare up at the intruder. There was no surprise at seeing him there. But no recognition either. Death wasn’t a thing that could touch him. Not naturally, anyway. Not without Divine intervention. So why would he recognize it when it stood before him?
The voice that spoke was like that of a whisper. His lips moved but it was more like the words were felt rather than heard. He watched the demon another moment before shifting his dark gaze to the cereal that was on the floor. After a moment, he blinked and the bowl and cereal was as it was, as it should been. On the table rather than in a pile on the floor.
Moving over to it, he lifted up a piece to look at it, curious about this as well.
"You often are tied to the souls I see. I wondered if perhaps another soul was tied to you in this building." Just to see. Not to interfere. It was never his place to interfere. No matter how pure or tainted the death was it was only his job to collect the fallen.
Though he does sometimes let his playthings know where he lives, he has a strict rule about eating where he lives: don’t do it. It’s much harder to ghost someone when there’s a very high chance of bumping into them in the laundry or ending up in an elevator with them. And oh, the knocking on his door at all hours! Not that he sleeps, but still! That’s precisely why he lives in a secure-access building. If someone wants to wail and scream for him, they can do it outside the building, not his door.
Matthias looked from the intruder to the bowl of cereal. “That was on the floor. You don’t really expect me to eat that, do you?”
Matthias is a very minor sort of demon. Minor in that his isn’t a name one would find in any books on demonology. All for the best, given how superstitious humans and their ilk can be. And for such a minor thing as himself, a creature who feeds on the guilt and sin of others, well, he doesn’t need to be some big shot, does he? Even without him and his kind whispering in the ear of humanity, they make enough of their own troubles to keep the sin-eaters well-fed.
There aren’t many of them in this part of the world. Not yet, anyway. Perhaps, in some future when travel is faster, there might be more. But for now, Matthias hasn’t seen one of his own breed in solid centuries. All the better for him. It leaves this particular region of this particular peninsula all to Matthias.
He’s not some kind of natural predator. That’s why it’s always been easier for him to nudge others into committing those little sins, encouraging them to do those small things they find taboo than go hunting. He doesn’t go hungry most of the time. But recently, he’s caught a whiff of something... absolutely delectable. Something that sends him out searching for the source of that delicious guilt. Oh, sure, he could sense it from afar, but it always tastes better up close and personal.
(( Staying up all night won't be a problem for Matthias. He never sleeps, quite literally. It makes for hours of unrivaled boredom almost every night, pity him! So, having company throughout the night until the morning is an opportunity he's jumping on.
It doesn't take long for him to get everything set up — one of the many perks of being able to teleport instead of hauling things up and down the stairs. Within less than twenty minutes, he has blankets and cushions laid out to make the spot he's picked on the roof more comfortable. In addition, there's a little picnic: breads, fruits, cheeses, little tea sandwiches, some sweet treats, and, of course, champagne. Because that's romantic, right? Matthias even tunes his phone into some soft jazz station. ))
[ Unfortunately, Chiaki does sleep. However, it generally starts some considerable time after sunrise, which is much different from most of his friends and even his brother. Usually once people start dropping off, all he can do is find some way or another to entertain himself until it's time for his morning ritual before bed.
Therefore, he's excited to be able to pass the time with someone else, and especially excited to spend it with Matthias. He doesn't expect anything quite so fancy as the setup that greets him as he rises up over the edge of the roof, seemingly floating on the air. He does have to concentrate to settle down properly, but once his feet are on the solid surface, he gives Matthias a bright smile and a wave. ]
(( He's fluffing one last pillow when Chiaki's voice grabs his attention. Turning to see him already on the roof, a brow lifts and a broad smile splits across his face. ))
Are you Spider-man? Did you scale the building?
(( He's only half serious. Though, he's also intensely curious as he doesn't see any equipment that would allow Chiaki to climb. Waving him over to their cozy little spot, he laughs quietly then asks: ))
[ He is incredibly proud, grinning happily. It's a fairly new skill and he's very excited to impress with it. He even decides to do it again, looking around briefly before shuffling a little to the side, then closing his eyes until his feet leave the floor, at which point he gives Matthias the most pleased-with-himself smile. ]
See!
[ And like that, Chiaki heads over to the spot, only landing again with a small wobble once he reaches the fancy setup. ]
Other things I like about you, hm? Let's see, you're very fun. I adore how expressive you are. IDK if it's weird or not but I like the sound of your voice. It's relaxing, like music.
I don't think so. I'm not human. [ can puppets get motion sick? he actually has no idea. ]
... [ maybe. maybe not that hand. left hand back down, switching over to the right, lifting up and ... hesitantly ... nervously? grasps that offered hand, hopefully not too tight. should he hold tight? he does not know. ]
(( Interesting, that left hand. But Matthias doesn't inquire... yet. If his companion is able to feel differences in temperature, he might notice that Matthias' hand is warmer than the average human's. ))
You may want to close your eyes, just in case.
(( Once he curls his fingers around the puppet's hand, there's a brief sensation like falling, as if the ground simply drops out from beneath their feet. There's a rush of air and a loud whooshing sound. And then their feet are back on solid earth. Definitely earth, as they're now standing on a gravel path leading up to a little farm hosting the petting zoo. ))
Accidentally-on-purpose
Matthias is perfectly content to keep it that way. He’s not a neighborly sort. He chose this apartment because it suits his needs and his aesthetic, not because of the other people occupying it. And while he can occasionally get a sip of delicious sin from those in closest proximity, Matthias adheres to a ‘don’t shit where you eat’ policy. Meaning, he’ll typically leave his neighbors out of his games. He has no designs on them. That’s just to keep additional complications out of his life. Secure access means someone he’s jilted or angered or otherwise ruined can’t come knocking on his door at some ungodly hour (not that he sleeps) or worse, when he’s with someone else.
But something changed that rainy morning when Matthias spots a familiar face in a nearby coffee shop. Ah, yeah, the guy he quite literally bumped into doing his second least favorite chore: laundry. That’s where he knows that face from. Maybe it’s something about seeing him outside the usual, expected environment that shifts Matthias’ thoughts on him. Truly, he’s never given him much thought at all. Like all his neighbors, the demon’s allowed this one to simply be vague and faceless, without any rich inner life for Matthias to ponder.
Suddenly, he’s an actual person.
One who’s done nothing to deserve garnering the demon’s attention.
Their orders are called out one right after the other. By merit of being closer, Matthias gets to the counter and accidentally-on-purpose takes the other’s cup and makes his way toward what he refers to as the sugar station. He waits a beat, then two, enough time for someone to maybe peel the lid off to add cream and sugar and whatever else they like. Enough time to notice that this isn’t what they ordered. When he turns back, his neighbor is the only other person standing on this side of the counter. Turning the cup in his hand to read the name, he comes over, affixing a convincing sheepish grin to his face.
“Hi. I think this might be yours.”
Counting compulsion
The color fades from the world as he watches, hypnotized, while the flakes seem to move in slow motion from the air to scatter across the kitchen floor. Something in the very core of him snaps and an irresistible compulsion grips him. It claws up from somewhere deep inside, wrapping around him with a vise-like force. Of all the things Matthias can do, to be held hostage by such a thing as this!
The empty bowl and the rest of his breakfast forgotten, Matthias follows the impulse that now controls him and sinks down to his knees to start counting those damnable Frosted Flakes. And there he sits, hunched over and wholly focused when someone else finally wanders in.
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A pointless task. No one could fight Death.
But today he'd taken away a soul and found it was near one who could be the cause of these deaths at times. Not this one but it was enough for him to take notice. So he moved like a shadow through the building to enter the dwelling.
To find the demon counting cereal on the floor. Curious.
Quietly Death watched him, intrigued as to why this demon was living in this particular building. Was there a victim nearby? Or in this very place? Well none of that could be revealed until after this counting was completed. Demons could be very focused on the matter and interrupting it could be...impossible.
He could wait though. He was used to waiting.
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And inhuman visitor. Something that wasn’t like him, something that was a force of nature. Something old and patient. It was certainly saying something when Matthias acknowledged something as old. But it was all in the back of his mind, focus laser sharp on moving each individual cereal flake to indicate it was counted.
The thing about Matthias, though he was an endlessly hungering creature made of greed, he didn’t enjoy killing his victims. They could live without guilt. He never took it from them completely – it didn’t behoove him to have the world filled with psychos who didn’t feel remorse, regret, and that delicious guilt. He’d starve if they didn’t feel bad over their sins.
But sometimes, yes, they died. After he wrung everything he could from them, after he played whatever part they wanted to make himself an integral part of their lives, then vanished without warning. After he made his promises (lies), ruined the things they loved so that they would forever remind them of him, after he grew bored of them… Yes, sometimes they didn’t want to live anymore, but was that really on him?
That sounds like a them problem, not a Matthias problem.
Once all the Frosted Flakes were scooted to one side, Matthias heaved a small sigh and craned his neck in an almost birdlike fashion to stare up at the intruder. There was no surprise at seeing him there. But no recognition either. Death wasn’t a thing that could touch him. Not naturally, anyway. Not without Divine intervention. So why would he recognize it when it stood before him?
“What do you want?”
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The voice that spoke was like that of a whisper. His lips moved but it was more like the words were felt rather than heard. He watched the demon another moment before shifting his dark gaze to the cereal that was on the floor. After a moment, he blinked and the bowl and cereal was as it was, as it should been. On the table rather than in a pile on the floor.
Moving over to it, he lifted up a piece to look at it, curious about this as well.
"You often are tied to the souls I see. I wondered if perhaps another soul was tied to you in this building." Just to see. Not to interfere. It was never his place to interfere. No matter how pure or tainted the death was it was only his job to collect the fallen.
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Though he does sometimes let his playthings know where he lives, he has a strict rule about eating where he lives: don’t do it. It’s much harder to ghost someone when there’s a very high chance of bumping into them in the laundry or ending up in an elevator with them. And oh, the knocking on his door at all hours! Not that he sleeps, but still! That’s precisely why he lives in a secure-access building. If someone wants to wail and scream for him, they can do it outside the building, not his door.
Matthias looked from the intruder to the bowl of cereal. “That was on the floor. You don’t really expect me to eat that, do you?”
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cw: suggestions of suicide
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The historical option
There aren’t many of them in this part of the world. Not yet, anyway. Perhaps, in some future when travel is faster, there might be more. But for now, Matthias hasn’t seen one of his own breed in solid centuries. All the better for him. It leaves this particular region of this particular peninsula all to Matthias.
He’s not some kind of natural predator. That’s why it’s always been easier for him to nudge others into committing those little sins, encouraging them to do those small things they find taboo than go hunting. He doesn’t go hungry most of the time. But recently, he’s caught a whiff of something... absolutely delectable. Something that sends him out searching for the source of that delicious guilt. Oh, sure, he could sense it from afar, but it always tastes better up close and personal.
Overflow
for @thrashingdragon
(( Staying up all night won't be a problem for Matthias. He never sleeps, quite literally. It makes for hours of unrivaled boredom almost every night, pity him! So, having company throughout the night until the morning is an opportunity he's jumping on.
It doesn't take long for him to get everything set up — one of the many perks of being able to teleport instead of hauling things up and down the stairs. Within less than twenty minutes, he has blankets and cushions laid out to make the spot he's picked on the roof more comfortable. In addition, there's a little picnic: breads, fruits, cheeses, little tea sandwiches, some sweet treats, and, of course, champagne. Because that's romantic, right? Matthias even tunes his phone into some soft jazz station. ))
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Therefore, he's excited to be able to pass the time with someone else, and especially excited to spend it with Matthias. He doesn't expect anything quite so fancy as the setup that greets him as he rises up over the edge of the roof, seemingly floating on the air. He does have to concentrate to settle down properly, but once his feet are on the solid surface, he gives Matthias a bright smile and a wave. ]
I told you I could get here myself~
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Are you Spider-man? Did you scale the building?
(( He's only half serious. Though, he's also intensely curious as he doesn't see any equipment that would allow Chiaki to climb. Waving him over to their cozy little spot, he laughs quietly then asks: ))
Did you fly? That would be a neat trick.
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[ He is incredibly proud, grinning happily. It's a fairly new skill and he's very excited to impress with it. He even decides to do it again, looking around briefly before shuffling a little to the side, then closing his eyes until his feet leave the floor, at which point he gives Matthias the most pleased-with-himself smile. ]
See!
[ And like that, Chiaki heads over to the spot, only landing again with a small wobble once he reaches the fancy setup. ]
This is really nice... Did you do this for me?
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for @insistently
And where can I pick you up?
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[ she sends the address of a safe location. ]
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if you prefer prose, I'm good with that, too. I'll follow your formatting :3
this is great, thanks!
Apologies for any weird typos; phone tagging from the hair salon
been there! ^^ sometimes you gotta tag
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for @purrmiliar
I don't believe you.
There's an alternative, tho~
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( no, he shouldn't. )
im very believable
( not in this instance!
... but also. )
what is it
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for @brattiness
Not that it matters. You're adorable now, that's what counts.
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i would not be mad
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Let's see, you're very fun. I adore how expressive you are. IDK if it's weird or not but I like the sound of your voice. It's relaxing, like music.
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for @strangiz
(( Matthias offers a hand with a smile. ))
Do you get motion sickness?
(( It may seem completely random, but the question will make sense soon enough. ))
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I don't think so. I'm not human. [ can puppets get motion sick? he actually has no idea. ]
... [ maybe. maybe not that hand. left hand back down, switching over to the right, lifting up and ... hesitantly ... nervously? grasps that offered hand, hopefully not too tight. should he hold tight? he does not know. ]
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You may want to close your eyes, just in case.
(( Once he curls his fingers around the puppet's hand, there's a brief sensation like falling, as if the ground simply drops out from beneath their feet. There's a rush of air and a loud whooshing sound. And then their feet are back on solid earth. Definitely earth, as they're now standing on a gravel path leading up to a little farm hosting the petting zoo. ))
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Choose your own adventure