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[morrer]

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[morrer]

I did.

[Say that. Mean it, too. He looks at Dom and he wonders how he could possibly take some of this assertion and transplant it into Iggy; they're such opposites under his wings and yet from both of them he sees just as many flaws as he does talents. Sullivan chuckles.]

I can do that. Will you do something for me, in turn?

[wicka]

[ He hesitates for a second, but he's in too deep already. He wants this too much. The alternative will get someone else hurt, if not himself. ]

What do you want me to do?

[morrer]

[Not unlike his other half:]

A favor, redeemable at a later date. Can you promise that?

[wicka]

[ Oh. Oh no. ]

—what kind of favor?

[morrer]

Yet to be decided. Does that bother you?

[wicka]

I mean... you're not gonna tell me to hurt someone, are you?

[morrer]

Do you think I'd do that?

[wicka]

[ Well. ]

I don't know what to think, dude. You're ... you're a death spirit.

[ And death, regardless of being inevitable, merciful or necessary, always hurts someone, somewhere. ]

[morrer]

It's a favor, or a donation. Would you prefer to give me one of your bones?

[Most people would not, so.]

[wicka]

[ ]

What the fuck, dude. No.

[ So... a favor it is. But also: what the fuck. ]

impending 🎀?

[morrer]

[Just this face, ok.]

So, circling back. You want to be fucked?

🎀

[wicka]

[ Just a quiet nod. He looks around, gains back his determination, starts to get undressed because he's not sure if this is gonna be a mess from the start again. He hopes it is. ]