1 & 2 for the death asks? :)
[Ask My Muse About Death]
1. Have you ever come close to dying?
Meryl motions around. “I think all of us who are Bosses have that yacht explosion and coma in common-”
“I don’t,” Eli chimes in. “I wasn’t even in the Saints back then.”
“Yeah, but I meant like, actual Bosses. No offense, Eli.” She catches his unimpressed expression but doesn’t stop. “So yeah, most of us Bosses have that in common. And a few other times, I bet. I mean, escaping by the skin of your teeth is kind of part of the job description of being a Saint.” She laughs. Colin chuckles along with her.
Sean mostly looks appalled by that. “Yeah, because that time you called me in the middle of the night that Colin had been shot in the chest and might not make it was super hilarious, right? A real bloody riot.”
Colin and Meryl stop laughing and freeze. “…It worked out alright in the end, didn’t it? I’m still here, aren’t I?” Colin tries. “Hard to kill a Boss, remember?”
Eli has his mouth open to object again, this time on Jack’s behalf, but a steely glare from Meryl keeps him quiet.
Ruth gently clears her throat. “By my reckoning, there seems to be some common thread of fate bound to each of us who are leading the Saints, guiding us toward some unknown goal or future. And until then, we appear to have an uncanny good fortune surviving even the most dangerous of encounters. Whether this good luck will one day run out is anyone’s guess, but until then I wouldn’t fret it too much.”
Sean rubs his cheek. “Yeah, I guess…” he mutters. “I haven’t. Been close to dying that is. Or at least not as close as the rest of you.”
Nigel’s been silently making bored talking motions with his hand at all the talk of Bosses and Saints. Sensing the topic’s come back to the original question, he says, “I’ve been in a few hairy traffic situations with my motorcycle. Never my fault; it’s the other drivers who aren’t paying enough bloody attention.”
2. What do you think is the worst possible way to die?
“Zombification?” Meryl offers, “that’s just, ugh, awful. You lose control and attack people until someone manages to put you out of your misery.”
“Stuck in a burning building,” Sean says before Colin can open his mouth.
“Huh,” the other ginger goes, “yeah, I can see why you’d pick that one, given your history. I could think of worse ones for myself. Drowning. Starvation. Slowly bleeding out in a rank back alley with no one coming to help…” Sean wordlessly hugs him.
“I-… really don’t want to get into imagining worst possible deaths right now,” Eli says, backing away.
Ruth nods. “Yes, all these questions have been quite morbid, but this one takes the cake.” She taps her heel to the floor. “I suppose anything drawn out and excruciating would be high up on the list.”
“You’re bloody right about drawn out,” Nigel says, “but it doesn’t gotta be excruciating to be the worst. I’d put being quadriplegic for many decades in someplace they won’t let you commit assisted suicide before you finally fade away at the top”
Sean’s tone is sardonic, “And yet even after being in several near-death situations, you still keep riding your bike everywhere.”
Nigel shrugs. “I’m just hoping that when my time comes, I’ll go out with a big bang, not a whimper.” He casts a big, toothy grin at the others.
