thedispatch | (no subject)

(no subject)

[ It's happening once again - her life, flashing before her eyes.

The shock that gripped her chest, as the demon grasped her face, muttering against her lips that it would erase the pain of her pathetic existence. Meeting William's gaze with excitement as they threw themselves into the throes of battle. Launching herself at him when he'd announced that they would be investigating a case together. Waking up that morning in a cold bed, before pulling herself out of it to piece herself together.

Hundreds of other beginnings like it, contrasting the liveliness she threw into her days, the unusual occurrences that came with her occupation, and the way her heart twists around that one special man. A time of fiery passion, bloodshed, lust - so brief, less than a thousand days of bliss, before reality tore the blanket from her eyes. Thirty-six-thousand like the ones that proceeded them. Love. Meeting William. Rage. Being "reborn," they said. Throwing herself into the ocean from cliffs high above.....

Her body relaxes as it all fades away. It's nearly bliss-- until the beast tears her scythe from her hands to plunge through her chest. Its laugh is wretched, gravely, as it steps on her shoulder to remove the blade and brandish against William.

It slowly walks back, giving the man the unspoken option to pursue it for battle, or approach his colleague. ]

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Honestly, if I understood the answer to that, I wouldn't have brought myself to this afterlife, to begin with.

[ She's treating him just as she did when they first met. You'd think that'd be favorable, but it's more unnerving than anything else. He's silent for a spell, but it's obvious he's deep in thought. He just knows it's going to be his job bringing Grell back up to speed with how this realm works. And apparently remind her of who she even is. ]

It is more of an accepted title versus a literal rank. We are in purgatory, sworn to do a job until we're considered forgiven.

[ Seeing him fall silent like that, her eyes trace his face. Trying to make sense of what he's telling her, wondering what it is that's struck a nerve in him, at last. Also noting that he has impressively sharp features for a dull man. ]

Purgatory, is it? [ She glances about. Everything is awfully monotone, but she'd also assumed that was merely a hospital-setting sort of deal. ] Lovely...

[ Her line of vision flickers back to William. ]

You said you brought yourself here. What did you do?

The same as you, and every other reaper here. We took our own lives.

[ She's been so unenthusiastic about every other bit of information he's given her so far, he doesn't expect to much of a response. ]

[ For a long moment, she is silent, arms settling as her gaze drifts off toward the ceiling once more. Finally, she hums. ]

Do we remember our own lives? How we did it?

Yes. For me it's quite a vivid memory.

[ His voice is rather monotone, but there's a terrible sadness holding it in place. ]

One that was reinforced quite recently.

[ They may not have been off the the best start, but she isn't a monster (so she discovers); his sadness sparks curiosity - empathy. Her features soften just the slightest. ]

How so?

[ He was silently hoping she wouldn't inquire. But he can only blame himself for setting her up to. Perhaps it's better to admit this now, while she's shown no interest in swooning over him for it. ]

I already had one important person in my life taken by a demon. As of yesterday, it was very nearly two.

[ Brows furrowed, lips tugging into a confused frown - indignant that he's given her conflicting information! - she turns her head to regard him fully. ]

You'd said I was merely your coworker.

[ Excuse him Grell, he has zero idea how to express emotions, other than irritation. So she'll be getting a frown right back. ]

Yes, and we've worked along side one another for over a century.

[ At that, her expression slacks! ]

A century. As in, one hundred years.

[ Excuse her a moment as she stares into the void. ]

... I see. So... we're friends, then. Is that what you mean to say?

Edited 2020-08-18 07:12 (UTC)

[ With a huff he relents, as if she was forcing it out of him and hadn't completely set himself up to admit it, all on his own. ]

Yes. A rather turbulent friendship, but not one I was ready to have end so abruptly.

[ His descriptor earns a tick of an upturned brow - but otherwise, she visibly appears to regard him with less hostility now, it seems. ]

Well. I'm sorry to have worried you.

[ She doesn't know why she's feeling a bit embarrassed to say so, but that's silly, right? ]

[ Her response has a rather frustrated look come across his face. ]

Don't do that.

[ A defensive frown etched into her features, in turn! ]

Do what?

Apologize. Honestly, it's unsettling to hear such a thing from you.

[ With a sigh, he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. This is going to be interesting until she finds her old self. ]

[ Rolling her eyes, she huffs at him. That sense of embarrassment flares on her cheeks, now, and she hates it even more! ]

Noted. You won't have to worry about that again.

[ Her fingers comb through the hair at her shoulder with annoyance! ]

Good.

[ He watches her mannerisms, some of them still holding true to her usual self. ]

I assume they will be keeping you here in the ward for a few days longer. We will need to get you back up to speed before you return to Dispatch. I suggest you ask me some questions, Death knows I'm at a loss as to where I should begin.

[ For a moment, she can't believe they would expect her to work when she has no memory of how things work, and her nose wrinkles at the thought. But, of course, this is all meant to be punishment and it's likely no one cares.

Grell's gaze flicks over to William. There's much to ask, but there's one thats come to her more recently . ]

...Did I ever tell you how I did it?

[ He hums, not surprised by her first question. ]

You never explicitly told me. However, I have noticed the scarring on your wrists. And I could fancy a guess as to what drove you to it.

[ With a blink, she turns her wrists to take a look for herself, running a finger over one. It isn't a very brave way to die, she thinks. And then, wonders if that's an unusual conclusion to make. ]

Oh? What, then?

[ He takes a moment to answer, formulating his response, as every way he thinks to describe Grell contradicts another aspect of her personality and interests. ]

I will put it as your flamboyancy.

[ Grell's eyes raise, a knit in her brow, while she attempts to make sense of that. ]

--What? How do you figure that?

People of your type were, and still are, looked down upon. That's why.

[ How do you lecture someone on who they are when you don't really understand it yourself! ]

[ It takes a tick before her eyes brighten with realization. ]

Oh. You must mean homosexual, then?

[ Though, once she says it, she frowns skeptically. Why doesn't that seem quite right? ]

[ He mimics her expression, not sure of it either. ]

Not entirely. I know you've been intimate with at least one woman. There's also the matter of you believing you're actually female.

[ He shakes his head, obviously unable to understand any of it fully. ]

Honestly, I don't know where that leaves your sexuality.