“ everyone does, eventually, need to die. probably even me. and certainly even you. ” - from oliver banks, because joke’s on you, elias!
Where the Water Tastes Like Wine | @bcrgmal
Tʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ — and, most certainly, only! — good thing about anyone affiliated with this particular Entity, following something as fundamental and simple as the End surely had to be the fact that they would usually keep to themselves, at least to large parts. Not much use getting involved, likely — after all, what was there for them to do? Everything else came in a variation of layers and interpretations, but this: most things already dreaded what awaited them eventually (and even the ones that didn't: usually had reason and wouldn't change their mind, necessarily) and trying to aid in that process could all too easily swing over entirely, and what use is a dead thing to fear? It would, quite likely, defeat the entire purpose, wouldn't it? If for certain something were to remain to still be afraid, then it would also leave some other traces, and those would make fearing this entirely for nothing, take away all of the foundation — not really an End if there's something else, create a neat little paradox, maybe.
No, probably best for them to keep to themselves in that case. Not getting into anyone else's way that actually had some work to do (the irritation that sits in his chest, curled around his lungs must be nearly pliable, at least to anyone looking for the specific signs), oh but when they do, it always was sure to become a nuisance.
(And of course there's nothing: ways to cheat death, in various ways, and wouldn't he know about it? but nothing without the necessary precautions, but knowing about these things also meant to turn some worries into certainties, so what more would solidify a fear than knowing it to be right? Not simply some worries and assumptions, but to know exactly that all dreaded is true? Sometimes, Knowing in itself is a curse — in term most certainly feeding them; the idea that they themselves would be immune just for serving had always been ridiculous. But nothing to admit. Not for anyone to hear, ever; the mere possibility of this forever hanging over his head like the proverbial sword is more than enough, and the hatred for being aware that this one would know? Oh, it runs deep.)
Not too hard to guess then why this one now chooses to be a bother, even without having to attempt to look inside his head. Sometimes being difficult for the sake of being difficult is all there is to things; and maybe the very fact that he knows, with absolute certainty, that there are only forms of life, unlife or nothing: that maybe something else to feed on than the usual predictable terror of one's own ending. And another, with that: the certainty that Oliver knows, even just from the words chosen.
(Well, of course he knows: there are probably marks visible to him the same all those touched in some way wear. There's that dreadful curiosity, in what way it would show. Does it point to the body used, not longer by it's original user but one long dead and forgotten and unmourned, or is it much rather the lack of something that would usually appear, something striking himself out from the rest, or something yet different? He could ask or pry for the answer, of course, but sometimes guessing if only for a moment is as entertaining, and besides; the answer would probably mean little to any not serving this one. Without the connection, just drops of ink spilled carelessly on paper.)
And maybe (certainly!) he feels that familiar dread in his own throat just looking at this one. It cannot be a good sign for him to be here; a bad omen maybe if one were to believe in such things. (Nobody knows the future; they all can guess and get pretty close, but knowing?) And by nature, the fact that Banks would know — would see or taste that very feeling — despite all efforts to swallow it down — that in itself leaves a bad taste at best.
"What wonderful insight." Dry. No humor, although he's tempted to, but the idea of his voice betraying himself is worse than any other option. "I still plan a long while before that might or might not happen. And I highly doubt you're here to change anything on the fact in the immediate future — what good would that do to you and yours?"
