[ It explains the pain, at least— why it had been increasing with no cause that Vanitas could pick out. His eyes cut away eventually, going to the liminal space between them as he tries to categorize this new radical change to his existence. Was it just this world that did this to him? Maybe the question is moot: it's not like he'll ever have the chance to find out otherwise.
The packet flies at him but years spent being alert to anything launched in his general direction make him snatch it from the air without fumbling. Another man had made this same suggestion, before, in the general store, though Vanitas had shrugged him off. It's embarrassing, that he'd been right. ]
I thought death was supposed to be easy.
[ Quiet, and dark, and warm. He scowls, but at least for the moment, it seems he isn't going to lash out again. Actually, with his attention diverted to opening the crackers, he almost looks like he's sulking.]
no subject
The packet flies at him but years spent being alert to anything launched in his general direction make him snatch it from the air without fumbling. Another man had made this same suggestion, before, in the general store, though Vanitas had shrugged him off. It's embarrassing, that he'd been right. ]
I thought death was supposed to be easy.
[ Quiet, and dark, and warm. He scowls, but at least for the moment, it seems he isn't going to lash out again. Actually, with his attention diverted to opening the crackers, he almost looks like he's sulking.]