Cort was walking the mall. More specifically, he was walking and watching all the people he passed. Some people interested him, other just made him angry. Mostly they made him angry, but he wasn't sure why. Just the way they looked.

He paused by a small treeinset, looking around. After a moment, he took a seat on the edge of it. It was relatively comfortable, but he wouldn't want to stay there long.

Clothing store, clothing store, electronics store, food joint. No place he'd want to shop. He was beginning to wonder why he was even here.

Then that feeling in his chest started up.

((Reserved for Jack))

Azrael's appearance can be noted by a couple of things. A sudden slight chill behind and to the left of Cort, that feeling that any human gets when someone is near... the drumming of his fingertips over the solid surface both he and the young clairvoyant are sitting on.

He's leaning back, looking casual, one leg crossed over the other, his white on white eyes resting lightly on Cort's back in anticipation of his turn. He's in red today, for no apparent reason. His jeans are tight bellbottoms, as always, in a shade of dark red. He's wearing a dark red turtleneck the fits snug to his skin and, over the, an unbottoned short-sleeve dress shirt. Hanging from his thin shoulders is a red winter jacket lined with improbable red fur. His hair is cropped close to his skull and bleached white to match his skin. His eyes are heavily outlined in black eyeliner.

Wait. Wait...

The feeling in Cort's chest tightened almost painfully. Turning around, he could see why.

At first, he said nothing. His eyes went wide and his mouth went a slack, hanging open slightly. Then he closed both, rubbing the former with his fists vigorously. He then stopped and opened them again, closing them one last time in defeat.

He was back. Maybe it was his time? He hoped not. Cort wanted to live for a little bit longer.

"What d'you need?" he asked, taking in Az's colorful appearance.

'Gods sure do dress funny...'

"Need?" he asks, as though the concept of needing something hadn't occured to him.

"Oh, nothing. Thought I'd... drop by, to see how you were doing." The god rolls his shoulders and grins at Cort, obviously enjoying the boy's reaction.

"A friendly visit." It was plain Cort was having trouble believing this.

"Been busy?"

"I'm always busy, Cort," Death says with a theatric sigh. He leans back in his position, glancing out into the busy mall and smiling.

"I'm always busy."

"Melodrama, anyone?" he muttered. It made Cort feel a bit better, however, to see Death this way. Maybe it meant he felt some kind of remorse. Ignore overpopulation and all of that.

"Is the mall a usual haunt for you?" He had hesitated in the middle, unsure if he wanted to use the word haunt; it spilled out anyway.

"Not always. I'm around here occasionally."

He turns to grin at the clairvoyant. "You'd be surprised by how many people don't die in a mall."

Cort grimaced, mostly because his mother's voice flashed through his head: Sarcasm's for people too stupid to be a man. He'd never agreed with it, but some things just stick with you.

"Well, you never know. There's armed robbers, some crazy people who live here, and some of those food shops don't look too clean." He's joking with Death.

What next?

"Well," Death says, thoughtfully, a smile still gracing his lips, "I do ahve to say i've been here a few times during boxing day sales..."

Eyes half-closed, he grins and watches Cort.

Unconsciously, Cort scooted away from the god.

"You must meet a lot of interesting people in your -- your line of work." A subject change, sure sign Cort's nervous.

"Interesting ones, dull ones. Mostly dead ones and, after a while, one tires of the same-ness."

The sameness of millenia of collecting dead souls, who really have nothing good to talk about... yes.

Cort wasn't sure what to say. Oh, yeah, I know what you mean. Whew, it's horrible. Wouldn't quite work.

From out of the blue, Cort turned and looked Az right in the eye. "Y'know, I still haven't recovered from our last rendezvous." His voice carries a blame, almost as if he had been scarred forever, irreparably damaged. He's not sure why he said it, though.

"Someday we'll have a rendezvous you'll never recover from. I'm counting it as a plus that you aren't running away screaming."

This is said quite casually.

"Only because I don't trust my legs at the moment." The tone was that of someone who's stuck.

"If I did I'd be out of the mall by now."

"Haven't you ever heard that you can't run from Death?"

He grins widely at Cort.

"That's very comforting, thank you." His mother's voice flashed through his mind again.

"Some people do run, though, don't they?"

Death laughs.

"Before they die and after, yes... they run. It doesn't work."

The laugh sounded wrong coming from him.

"That's depressing." His demeanor didn't change, however. Still nervous and jumpy. "Do you ever let anyone go?"

"To you, it's depressing... but you're mortal." Death shrugs.

"I don't see as how it's any business of yours... but yes." A grin re-appears. "Keeps things interesting."

That would be interesting, since the image that came to mind was that of a half rotted corpse trying to go about its normal daily life.

"I'll bet it does..." Cort wa silent for a minute after that, trying and failing to ignore the presence next to him.

"So what's with the get-up?" It looks very pimp-like to the teen.

"The what?" Death asks, seemingly oblivious to what the kid could possibly be talking about. If it's an act, he's not letting on.

"The outfit; your clothing?" Cort looked it over again.

Yep. It looks very much like something a pimp would wear, especially from the 70s era.

To him, anyways.

"Well," Death says, thoughtfully, "I didn't think running around nude was appropriate for out in public. Clothing sort of goes with taking on human form-- you take one, you take the other. Under most circumstances."

Cort stared. He was trying to figure out if the god was joking or not.

He could never tell.

"...Nevermind," he said finally.

"You mean that wasn't the answer you were looking for?" Death asks, looking curious.

He leans closer to the young man, as if asking for an answer in gesture.

The boy leaned back, keeping the distance just about the same.

Cort shook his head. "Not quite, but it doesn't matter."

"Just making conversation?" Death asks. now he sounds amused.

"You'd prefer the traditional Black Cowl/Scythe arrangement?"

"Kind of..."

Cort shook his head vigorously. "No, no black cowl and no scythe is a good thing." He looked around the mall. "It'd kinda cause a panic," he added hasitly.

"Only you can see or hear me right now," Death explains. With a grin.

Which means that Cort appears to have been speaking to a potted plant for the last five minutes or so.

Cort raised a hand, as if he was going to try and touch Az, just to see if he really way there. After hesitating a moment, he stopped and put his hand back down.

"Only me, huh? Specially blessed, or something?"

"No, I just felt like being an asshole."

No one ever said Death was subtle.

Of course. Death's never subtle.

"How nice. And you must have so many friends because of it."

"You'd be surprised how attractive some people find Death." NHo, he's not speaking in the third person... exactly. It can be hard to tell, really. He is Death and yet there's death, small d, as a separate... idea.

Cort does know some people like that, but they can't make very good friends, could they?

He wasn't sure.

"Attractive, huh? Suicidals, and all that."

Azrael shrugs.

"Them... and the dark and drear of the mundane world. Thrill-seekers, too, adventurers. Vampires and others of the not-so-mundane world."

Vampires?

Vampires? As if gods weren't enough, now he had to deal with vampires and who the hell knows what else.

"Vampires?" Cort was trying to get his mind around that. Vampires. Almost unconsciously, his hand went to his neck.

Maybe that homeless guy hadn't been so homeless?

Death nods, casually.

"Why not? Vampires are all about death and attraction, really." Obviously, he's taking the question as meaning 'why would vampires find you attractive' rather than 'You mean vampires exist?'

Cort clarified.

"You mean vampires are real? Does that mean werewolves and all that, too?"

He may be innish, but just barely. Until now he thought it was just gods.

The god grins, amused.

[i]"Vampires, werewolves, fairies, elves, mages, witches... half a dozen legends and even more myths. Yes. Real. All around you, all the time, Cort."

He waves a hand at the hordes of people walking through the mall, each absorbed in their own life.