Ennui.

He'd learned that word today. Alex didn't feeling like remembering where exactly, but he had, and it fit the situation perfectly. He was really, horribly, awfully bored. And ennui was boredom and so forth. But that had nothing to do with anything, really.

So there Alex was. Bored. And cold (but he hadn't learned an odd word for cold). And he kept moving in an attempt to not freeze his poor behind off. Wandering through the park and attempting to walk in others footprints so he wouldn't get snow down the black boots that adorned his feet. Didn't work, though, because the snow would fall directly into his boots if he so much as touched the edges of the print. And his socks were soaked. But that, too, wasn't the point.

Alex really just wanted to make a snow angel or have a snowball fight. But he didn't and didn't really know why. Because really, all he had to do was plop down to make a snow angel and find a friend for a snowball fight. But there was a lack of friends because he withdrew himself so much and Alex didn't like getting his clothing wet. Weird little guy, really.

But he could watch the snow. And the snow was pretty. Just falling, landing in his hair, on his eyelashes, on his shoulders, the ground, everywhere. Very nice. Something someone could write poetry about or could be used for a postcard. And it would be relaxing if it weren't so freaking cold.

((Reserved.))

Snow was fun, when it landed on your eyelashes etcetera. When you could pick it up and toss it at others in a playful manner, when you could make snow angels in it.

But when it's falling through you? Now that's not a very fun feeling. Small crystals of ice working their way through your exterior and into your interior, and getting caught and melting with fluctuations of light and shadow.

As such, Rem was a little more irritable than usual. Her form shimmered constantly, the majority of the time a hazy silver outline of a short woman, walking and leaving little to no footprints in the snow. This ghosted image would be visible one moment, gone the next, and clearer yet in another moment.

All that did not change was her voice. Speaking now, to the man next to her, in a dry tone, approaching earshot of the man watching the snow. "...and honestly. Ever just feel like walking around naked, because nobody can see you? I'd have to do it in the summer, obviously. On a clear day. Do it now and I'd freeze my particles off."

"Rem, darling, I do walk around naked, when people can see me and when not."

The speaker isn't naked right now, thankfully. he's tall, thin, pale-- but why miss the perfect opportunity to use the term 'gaunt'? He's gaunt. Despite this thin-ness, he's obviously a young man and not unnattractive, in an oddly symmetrical way. A black trenchcoat covers whatever other clothing he might be wearing, and his hands are buried somewhere in the pockets of the trenchcoat. He's ambling amiably alongside the ghosted figure, speaking with her as though she were an everyday occurance. Other than the black trenchcoat and black eyeliner, he's pale paper white-- bleaches hair, white skin, strangely white eyes.

"I suppose there's a lot more freedom among eternals. Originally everyone was naked, you know."

And here Alex had figured he was pretty much alone. Not alot of sane people wandered through the park when it was freezing. Thin hands remained in his pockets as he continued walking, very anxious to turn around and see who was behind him. But that'd look rude. And looking rude was not something Alex strived for.

But he was curios. And a little confused. Particles? Naked? What on earth was going on behind him?

Snowflakes were partially brushed aside as a phantom hand was waved in dismissal.

"I know, I know. But then humans were all landed with modesty, and to that I'm still bound. I don't intend to be waltzing around in my birthday suit and suddenly have the shadow from a ruddy big cloud or something fall on me. Think of the crowd that would draw, especially if the cloud moved on and I vanished again."

"'The Amazing Disappearing and Re-appearing Dead Naked Lady'," the tall, pale stranger quotes, in a billboard voice. "You'd draw quite the goth-esque crowd."

He leers playfully at Remilyn.

Do. Not. Turn. Around.

Do. Not. Look.

Mind. Your. Own. Buisness.

So many different little mantras in his head as he shut his eyes, trying to ignore the conversation behind him. Darn curiousity, it wasn't fair. Curiousity got poor Alex in a lot of trouble, including a certain something that happened every month. So why look behind himself if it could turn out badly?

Well, maybe one glance...

"Take the dead out of there and I'd draw any crowd. And I'm honestly not the crowd-gathering sort."

A pause, a smile visible just as the one they followed turned around, really a pair of vaguely amused lips floating with a splash of skin as the shadow of a bird passed over.

"Usually."

Well, the the disappearing part out and you'd still draw a crowd, darling." The nickname is just to annoy and it's obvious. "Most humans of the appropriate gender will follow anything naked of the opposite gender, or whatever gender they happen to like."

A subtle stick at her-- you're not human, not anymore, the subtext says.

Person there. Person gone. Talk of humans as though he wasn't one. What was wrong here?

Alex blinked once and focussed his attention to his feet, mind trying desperately to process a coherent thought or explanation. Maybe... maybe he'd passed out because it was too cold and this was a dream. Or maybe he was going insane and there weren't people there at all. Or they could be behind him. Some disspearing person and some guy. Very creepy, really.

And poor Alex was freaked out. It's the typical reaction for him in a situation like this.

"Not just humans," Rem remarked, eyeing Az with an arched eyebrow for a moment before glancing to the guy they were more or less following.

The unimpressed expression left her face as she jogged forward and to the left a few steps to look at him with mild concern. Probably not a wise idea, as she became shimmery visible again just as she tilted her upper body in front of him to get a good look at his face.

"If you were on display naked, Rem darling, i'd be miles away..." He follows her curiously, just now seeming to see Alex. Sauntering along being the shimmering, translucent Remilyn, the God of Death and Dreaming eyes the mortal up and down.

Talk about startling.

"Holy --!"

No one knew if he was going to swear or call out a holy name or something, because Alex didn't really finish, just sort of stumbled back in suprise, tripping one foot over the other and falling back into the snow painfully. And cold. But that didn't really register. Shock and confusion was all that was there right now. Alex couldn't really bring himself to speak, but his mouth did open and close a number of times.

A shimmering wince as the specter girl backed off a pace or two.

"Eheh. Whoops. Sorry, sir. Didn't mean to startle you... more..."

She looked to Az and sighed slightly. "Help him up or something useful, will you?" She didn't expect him to do so. At least not usefully. Worth a try, anyhow.

"How useful are we talking, here?' Azrael asks in amused, mischevious tones. he rubs his chin and quirks an eyebrow at Remilyn.

Turning to Alex, he says, "You'll have to excuse her," pause, "Sir, she's dead and, besides, has no common sense." She has more common sense than she does, but he's teasing her again.

"S-She's de-dead?"

He spluttered helplessly, blinking. Well. Alex was certain he was insane now. He pushed away from them a bit and stood up, brushing snow off himself and glancing between the two. Now he had no idea what to say. And felt... really short. Really, really short. And freaked out.

"Not that kind of useful," Remilyn sighed, running her fingers through her hair in mild annoyance and knocking her hood off in the process.

She tried to smile reassuringly to he-of-the-freaked-outness, but she wasn't quite sure how much of it was visible. "I like to call myself semi-dead, actually. Mortally challenged? Hm. Either way, there's nothing to be afraid of, or worried about, I swear."

"Except for the fact that she sucks the souls out of the living through touch," Azrael lies solemnly.

He manages to pull of a straight face.

"She what!?"

Squeak. Voice crack. Adorable and embarrassing at the same time. He took two more steps backwards, wide-eyed and very obviously more freaked out than before. That wasn't reassuring at all. Particularly to a twitchy fifteen year old.

Sigh.

"You're a bastard, Az. Really. I mean it. You should get a tattoo that states the fact."

She turned again to the boy. "Honestly. I have absolutely no reason to suck out your soul, or anyone elses. And do I look like I could touch someone?"

To demonstrate, she took a swing at Azrael, and her shimmering silver arm went right through.

In response, Azrael blows Rem a kiss.

"Will this do?" he asks, passing his palm over his face. The word 'BASTARD' appears in its wake, tattooed on his forehead.

Ignoring the mortal for the moment.

And it took every ounce of his strength to not faint.

This was weird. No, this was beyond weird. Weird was Alex's own special PMS the week before a full moon. This was nutcase-strange. And as far as he was concerned, Alex decided he'd gone off the deep end.

Either that or this was actually all happening.

"Now make it pulse red every so often, and yeah, that'll do," Rem agreed dryly, wondering how badly they were scarring the poor kid.

Azrael does the little nose twitch popularized by samantha of the old sitcom Bewitched. This looks particularly strange on a tall, pale gothic-ish guy.

The 'BASTARD' begins blinking on and off in red.

"Quite the fashion statement... don't you think?" he asks, turning to Alex.

A grin. He knows the kid is flipping out and is basking in the anxiety.

Trembling hands held trembling elbows in an attempt to keep them still (it didn't work, mind you) and a muscle in his left shoulder kept twitching. If Alex was twitching, it was never good. It was either a specific day of the lunar cycle or he was thoroughly freaked out.

Freaked out.

And his mouth continued to open and close with a lack of noise.

"Yes. And now, it's quite out of fashion. Turn it off," Rem sighed, pondering why she even bothered being sarcastic around him.

Ah, right. Because some dark part of her was amused by it.

Tossing a mock pout her way, he wipes the flashing tattoo off of his forehead and glances towards Alex.

Glancing back at rem, he jerks a thumb in the kid's direction and says "I think we broke the mortal."

Maybe they had. Afterall, his shoulder was twitching like crazy over there. Alex blinked a few times, then stopped to try to make sense of situation, couldn't and just sort of watched them. And prayed to God he'd live to see another day-- where he was perfectly sane.

"Oh-ho. No. If we cracked another, it's almost entirely your fault this time," Rem stated, approaching the mortal slowly, hoping not to startle him all over again.

"Hi. My name is Rem. What's yours?" If he could recite his name back to her, that was promising.

"The mortal goes by Alex," Azrael supplies helpfully... or unhelpfully, as the case may be. The tone suggests that he's being helpful, but he knows damn well he's not.

He turns and offers the kid a white-eyed wink.

About to say Alex, then caught off. Goes by Alex? How the heck did he know? Who were these people? All he had been able to make out was that it was probably a good idea to stay silent and not say anything stupid because it would be a bad idea to tick off the vanishing girl and a guy who can make 'bastard' flash across his forhead. Which would have been amusing when it had occured if he hadn't been so confused and nervous.

But Alex just kept quiet.

Death glare at Death.

"I'm from England. Are you from the city, or just visiting?" Persistant semi-visible smile, with her accented voice set to the tone of talking to the very young or mentally impaired.

"He lives in the city," Azrael says, pronouncing the 'he' with a certain special emphasis.

He brushed his nails off on his coat and inspects them. "But really, everyone is just visiting this life..." A grin is directed at the mortal and the former mortal.

Geez, was he being stalked or something? Alex's thumb had begun to twitch as well, as he did when he was highly nervous and would do anything to go crawl under something and sink into the ground.

And apparently, this guy knew what other people didn't and was making a show of it, and it was ticking Alex off, but he wasn't about to say so. Nuu. Keep quiet.

"I wasn't talking about life, you over-animated grim reaper."

She sighed. It was supposed to be the sort to clear her head.

Her head couldn't physically get much clearer, so really, all she accomplished was to expel a few snowflakes away from her face.

"Listen, kid. Alex, I'm assuming. Maybe you should do yourself a favour and run away now? Save what little sanity you have left. Go buy yourself something nice to take your mind off of this."

She dug through her pocket, the skirt fabric shimmering with the movement, and then two twenty dollar bills appeared on the ground at his feet. They became entirely visible and solid as soon as they lost contact with her.

She paused. "But no drugs, or alcohol, or cigarettes. That'll just make you worse."

"Aw, but we were just starting to get to know each other..." Azrael turns to give the little were a deep bow.

"Death, at your service," he says, by way of introduction.

"Uhm... no... thank you?"

Do not piss off the people who more obviously have power. Really! Twenties appearing by his feet, he was introduced as...

..... death .....

Alex paled and swayed a little, looking like he was either very dizzy or about to faint.

"I'm... insane..."

"No, he is insane. You'll be just fine in a few days if you run away right now, and repress all these memories. Go! Now! Save yourself!"

Rem made frantic shooing motions toward the boy, little snow flurries dancing pointedly in the opposite direction.

Azrael rolls his eyes.

"I am the Ultimate Reality, I can't very well be insane."

He turns his dead-white eyes to Alex.

"You aren't insane, either. You ought to know that," he waves a hand vaguely, "There are more things in heaven and earth than dreamt of in most people's philosophies. Gods, ghosts, werewolves."

Oooh. And the words were out of his mouth before he could stop him.

"You don't hafta tell everyone!"

And a pair of flailing arms accompanied it. He blinked, caught himself, and clapped both hands over his mouth. Silence. Then a step backwards and,

"Uhm.... maybe I will... leave..."