I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
If ever there were creatures that knew about change, it would be them. Fucking ancient, that’s what they. Not that he could remember half of his goddamned life. Well, more like he didn’t want to remember half his life. Fucking shitstorm that it’d been.
He should’ve died a long ass time ago. Should be just bones and dust by now. Feeding the fucking worms. But who the hell knows how he’d managed to stumble into his particular curse? He sure as shit doesn’t. He just knows he ages. Grows old. Dies. And like a goddamned unwanted fucking miracle, here he is again, a child, perfect and unscarred and fucking helpless, all his memories intact. And there it goes. Again. And again. Repeat ad nauseum.
Can’t even off himself. Seriously, what kinda shit is that? Stupid shit, that’s what.
Let’s just say it changes a man, to be reborn again and again and again until you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve been a wee fucking newborn all over again. Shit, even the most stoic, dauntless of men would get jaded real quick. What a fucking prick he’d been way back when. Shit, how’d anyone ever put up with him? Not that he’s any better now. Probably a whole helluva lot more annoying. But at least he’d developed a sense of humor. Kinda had to, given the mindfuck of a situation he’s somehow found himself in.
Speaking of mind fucks…
He’s just doin’ his thing, wandering through the meadow after waking from a pretty shit nap (he likes napping, who doesn’t? Even if they are shit. And what else does one do with a million fucking lives to look forward to?), when he does a double take. He’d somehow wandered past a pale figure leaning against a tree, silent as a ghost. Honestly, he hadn’t been paying much attention. Why the fuck should he? He’s a bum these days.
But this one catches his attention because it’s familiar. There’s nothing familiar in these god-forsaken lands anymore, so seeing something that brings back memories of a day long gone (a day he’d been a massive fucking dick no doubt), is an exceedingly rare occasion. Ryatah. Well, shit.
It’s not often he remembers the faces of the women he’s known, but he’d always had a damned hard time forgetting hers.
Meandering closer, her narrows his eyes as he nears, trying to discern why the fuck she seems different (not that decades wouldn’t be enough to make one different, but hell, except the wings and his massive attitude shift, he still looks like himself - handsome as shit, right?). But then he gets close enough, and he skids abruptly to a halt when he notices her eyes. Or rather, her lack of eyes.
“Holy. Fucking. Shit.”
Oh. Fuck. That probably didn’t get them off to the greatest start. Such a charming ass these days.
@[Ryatah]