"I've had time." With their coat off, it's easier to feel the cold of their body through the fabric of their sleeve - always so cold, like a clay urn kept in the morgue.
"You can call it a hobby, if you like. I've seen so many years...I like to mark them."
And that is the difference between them, isn't it? The reason why they get on. Der Tod is all urns...Fran is all popsicles.
They chuckle.
"I do have a few places, yes. I don't need a home, exactly...but it is good to have a place to return to."
The door opens with a soft click - the wide eyed Angel from outside slips through the door, meeting Der Tod's gaze with an apologetic bow before shuffling off into another room, fiery orange wings faintly trembling.
Der Tod shrugs it off, turning to face Fran again.
"...Is there any sort of thing you'd like to see first? I collect all sorts of things."
Fran watches the angel go with a curious expression, but lets them go without question nonetheless. Her friend is speaking to her, and they deserve her full attention.
"I want to see what you like most. What makes you happiest? What makes you smile whenever you see it?"
"I feel a bit like Bluebeard's wife," she admits, following them down the hallway. Keeping her hands to herself. "Are there any places I ought not go?"
Coming to the end of the hall, they turn to the left, resting a hand on the doorknob. Understanding her concerns, they look to her - grinning their angular grin, but voice soft and soothing like a graveside prayer.
"Outside of the door in the garden to leave this realm - no. I trust you. You are welcome here. And you can touch things, just know that many of them are...very old."
"I promise to be on my best behaviour, then, and be very careful with anything I'm tempted to touch. Keeping in mind the age of things." She gives him a playful smile, reaching out to pinch his arm teasingly.
"At least I don't have to worry about breaking you. Even though you're very old."
At that, they actually laugh - a good natured sound, not as dark as what one might expect. "I'm older than anything here, and...no, you certainly will not break me."
And with that, they open the door.
The room beyond is a fair size, loaded top to bottom, wall to wall with...music. Music players, instruments, a whole shelf of music boxes, books of sheet music...every kind of thing one can think of.
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"You can call it a hobby, if you like. I've seen so many years...I like to mark them."
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"A little something from every era you've been through? You must have dozens of houses filled with things, then."
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They chuckle.
"I do have a few places, yes. I don't need a home, exactly...but it is good to have a place to return to."
The door opens with a soft click - the wide eyed Angel from outside slips through the door, meeting Der Tod's gaze with an apologetic bow before shuffling off into another room, fiery orange wings faintly trembling.
Der Tod shrugs it off, turning to face Fran again.
"...Is there any sort of thing you'd like to see first? I collect all sorts of things."
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"I want to see what you like most. What makes you happiest? What makes you smile whenever you see it?"
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They think for a moment...and then nod, beckoning as the walk towards a hallway laden with lanterns and hung dried flowers. "This way."
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"Outside of the door in the garden to leave this realm - no. I trust you. You are welcome here. And you can touch things, just know that many of them are...very old."
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"At least I don't have to worry about breaking you. Even though you're very old."
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And with that, they open the door.
The room beyond is a fair size, loaded top to bottom, wall to wall with...music. Music players, instruments, a whole shelf of music boxes, books of sheet music...every kind of thing one can think of.
"Here. One of my favorite collections."