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It rings. Loud and incessant; It rings.
His ears, that means. It muffles everything, including whatever Meha is rambling about. Focusing back in is more than a challenge, but he does it, nonetheless.
“...What?” Gri spoke, voice as soft as it could be in that moment. He’s just killed someone, for Void’s sake—Give him a break.
Well... It wasn’t him that killed Raven.
Not really, anyway.
“Hm? Oh—I was just saying badada.” Meha answered simply, a finalizing nod joining her words. Gri hummed in slight understanding, deciding not to question the lonely Soulmate.
Gri watched her walk away and something in him jumped at that, bringing him to a start and walking with her to her chest room. He scrambled for a reason to continue a conversation. “Uh- Are you hungry? Do you want food?” Meha, although the eerie mask covered her face, probably paused and blinked to process that sudden question.
“Um- I mean, I’m a little hungry—” Gri tossed her rotten flesh. “Oh okay.” She laughed a bit as she spoke, but Gri pressed on.
The last bit of the conversation was blurry; Familiar banter, familiar faces, not-so familiar circumstances. He soon found himself in a little bit of water next to Meha, fishing.
How on earth did he end up there? He killed someone, now he’s peacefully fishing.
Something about that is awfully unsurprising.
A tick of damage from his Soulmate, and a small yelp resounding from Gri. Meha turned to him. “You okay?”
Mentally? Oh, he was just peachy. Physically? No hearts were taken, so about the same! “Yeah, I’m fine.” Gri answered after a brief moment. Emotionally? He was just fine as well.
A splash in the water; A quick reel, and suddenly a book.
Glowing, purple, sealed tightly. “Efficiency IV”, it read. Faintly a whisper burrowed itself into his mind.
“Good job.” It mumbled softly. He clutched the book in his hands.
He hadn’t realized Meha had been talking to him until she spoke right next to his ear. At least—It felt like it. She was only a block or so away, but her presence felt so much closer.
Absentmindedly, he mused that she was much better than a parasite. “What? What did you get?” Meha pressed, leaning a bit closer. Gri pointedly ignored the blood on his mask dripping onto the book as he looked down at it.
“...Efficiency four.” He breathed, looking back up at Meha who had a hand fidgeting with the collar of her shirt. She stopped that movement when she processed his words.
“Is that allowed?” Meha huffed, making Gri shrug. He was just as lost as she was, and the ringing in his ears didn’t make it any better when he shook his head.
Gri hummed, stashing the book away the moment he felt his nails itch to claw into it and rip out every single page in it—To scratch over every written word in that book to make it unusable.
Who is he to refuse such a prized gift? Surely not sane, clearly. He’d bite the inside of his cheek to get out of his own mind if he wasn’t already. Gri wiped the blood off of the surface of his mask, used to the gross feeling of the blood seeping out of the cracks the moment he does. It feels like a horrid pattern, wiping it away just for it to come back; Good thing his sweater is red, he guessed.
He dipped a hand into the water, watching the fish flick away from the ripples and the disturbance. Gri frowned. Why didn’t the fish like him? Was it because he was Red? Meha stayed around him. Maybe she likes being around him because he’s Red. That doesn’t really make sense, but he’ll pretend it does. He watches the blood wash off in the water and the fish curiously poking around at the new substance.
Morbidly he wondered if they’d do that if his blood was oil.
“Do fish like oil?” Gri blurted out, startling Meha out of her rambling.
She stared at him. He decided not to stare back. “Uhm.” She frowned—He could hear it from how she hesitated. “I don’t... Think so...?” He took that answer half-heartedly. He only looked at her when he saw her shake her head in the corner of his eye. “Okay, hold on. Why is your mask bleeding.” Normally that would be phrased as a question, a concern maybe, but that tone...
“I dunno.” Gri mumbled, pulling his hand out of the water and waving it a bit to dry it. “These things happen, man. Who knows.” He chose not to watch her tilt her head in blatant confusion. Instead, his hand hovered over to his inventory—Eyes lingering on the glistening book.
...He didn’t want this gift.
But he should; It was a blessing, a gift- A reward! He was selfish for not wanting it. That’s what he’d been told. Always accept things being given to you. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want it or not, just take it.
But he didn’t want this. Frankly he didn’t want anything. Is it selfish to watch the sky for hours on end? Maybe it’s as selfish as wanting to be friends with fish. They aren’t obligated to, but they’re lesser than. They have no choice but to be friends, because he’s better than them. It’s probably selfish to stare at the sun because he was gifted those eyes; Why burn them? Why kill? Why do anything?
There was a weird thread-plucking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Usually that was a sign to stop thinking.
He decided to stop listening to it.
Maybe he should listen to Meha instead.
That seemed less stressful.