Disclaimer: Guess what! Guess what! Guess what! I don't own Soul Eater! :P
Nursery Rhymes
What do you want me to be?
Do you want me in your life?
I feel so incomplete
You left me to fall behind
Too out of touch, out of touch to touch you
~Disconnected by Trapt
The first thing he noticed when he entered his domain was the smell of paint, then the smell of pine cones and cherries: Mena.
"Do I even dare to look?" he murmured to himself, shaking his head. Taking a deep breath he pushed aside the large double doors to his private sanctuary or office.
He almost toppled over with what he saw.
The guillotine like entrance that led from the doors to the main area of the office was still the same – though he wasn't sure if it was because the troublesome woman didn't get to them or not. But the walls, which had been previously a pure white outlined with black sun blocking curtains, were now blue…baby blue…with fluffy white moving clouds. Death was sure this was how hell frozen over would look like.
"Ah you're back sugar-dear-sweetie-pie!"
The only clue that the woman coming towards him, dressed in a blue dress– only a shade darker than what was on the walls –, was actually Mena, who was accustomed to wearing men's trousers, were her dark eyes like burning coals fading and her windswept gray hair that she seemed to have failed – as usual – to tame.
He mentally sagged. This was his payback; for not bringing her along his past few outings; for dropping a kid in her lap that practically defied all the laws of life and death; and just to spite him. "And I wondered why she's still unmarried," he thought sarcastically.
"Do you like what I've done?" Mena asked, her large grin never fading. "I've read somewhere that if a parent is happy so will be the child. I received the paint straight from a vendor from Camelot. Said Merlin uses the same stuff."
"Doesn't that apply for infants still in the womb?" he wondered.
Death gathered himself. He had hundreds, no thousands, of years of experience on her mere little thirty. He knew that if he acted like her defiling his room was nothing then there would be nothing to fuel her fire and she would give up this meaningless rebellion…he hoped.
"Where is the child?" he asked offhandedly.
"Oh! Death Jr.?" Mena chirped in a falsely sugar coated voice that would give any person a toothache. "He's in his crib taking a nap, the dear little darling! He even makes the same faces in his dreams as you do!"
"And you would know how I'd sleep, how?" Death questioned though they both knew good and well that sleep was not a necessity at all.
Mena winked mischievously before turning to the platform in the middle of the room. Standing on top of it was a tall mirror – a recent gift from a renowned mirror crafting family. In front of the mirror was small stand with a tray on top covered with a silver tea kettle and a plate of...
"Animal crackers?" the grim reaper questioned.
"I know. Your favorite," Mena grinned widely.
Death sniffed crossing his arms. "Those ridiculous things? Hardly. I'd rather go against the most powerful of the witches then eat those absurdly sweet-" but before he could continue, with wicked delight, Mena had already shoved the crackers into his face, er, mask. Either way, one animal cracker – a hippo to be precise – managed to sneak its way into his mouth.
"There," Mena grinned, pleased with herself. "That's good isn't it?" she patted the cheek of his mask before practically skipping out of the room.
He wasn't exactly sure how, but he felt like he just lost. He sighed, feeling like his age was finally catching up to him as he popped another animal cracker into his mouth.
~DEATH TALES~
He really hated spending more time then necessary in the presence of his…colleagues. Mena knew this all too well as she stared at the two figures that were sitting in the seats of Death's office.
One seat held a tall woman. Her face – which looked young and old at the same time - was perfectly round, ivy green eyes standing out against sun-kissed skin. Wavy chestnut hair with flowers and vines interwoven into it just barely grazed the floor. Her outfit consisted of a modest but flowing violet skirt with a billowy white blouse and she wore no shoes.
The other seat's occupant was a balding old man with a snow white beard. He wore an outfit that consisted of many different elements from many different generations. It was so hard to properly describe his outfit and at first glace it would appear completely disarrayed but each item of clothing seemed to melt into the ones next to it, like a steady flow of time.
Mother Nature and Father Time: Death's colleagues.
"Well," Mena thought, "It could be worst. They could have sent that freezing, cold ass bastard, Jack Frost." She shivered just at the thought. Even in the hottest desert it had taken weeks for the icicles that had formed in her hair after Frost's last visit to melt.
"Lovely decoration, dear," Mother Nature commented on the still cloud cover walls Mena had painted weeks ago in her chiming bell like voice. She smiled as she got up and patted Mena's cheek. "The clouds remind me of a five years-old's drawing that she begged her mother to put up even though it shows no worth of talent at all."
Mena bowed politely, grinding her teeth together as she muttered, "Thank you Mother," but she thought, "Damn hippie bitch!"
Father Time stayed out of the two's conversation. With time came wisdom and his wisdom was telling to stay out of this cat-fight.
"You're very welcome, my child. At least the bit of color is better compared to the overall drab of this place. Now, can you please explain to us why dear, but utterly grim Death has called us? He's always seemed none too hesitant to show his dislike towards me, his sister, though I've never wished him ill."
"Maybe he just hates the pompousness that just oozes off of you," Mena thought, seriously considering saying that allowed despite the fact that this woman was an immortal.
It was at that moment he decided to enter. Carrying, the silent, but consciously aware baby in his arms, Death looked oddly out of place to the two deities before him but Mena found it strangely endearing.
"Well, well, well. Have you overstepped your boundaries, Death?" Nature said covering her nose with her dainty hand. "I smell the rotting corpse all the way from here and yet, it still has its soul. Have you not reaped it, brother?"
Mena bit her tongue, hard. The child didn't even faintly smell like dirt!
Death didn't reply. Instead, he turned to Mena. "You may leave now," he stated coolly.
Mena gasped she had always been allowed to listen in to his meetings whether confined to her weapon form or not. She wondered if this was because of Asura. Everything lately always seemed to link back to Asura nowadays and Death had seemed to make it priority to keep things from not only her but also the other eight powerful warriors. Being shut out stung more then even she expected.
"What about Death the Kidd?" she asked, ignoring the poorly hidden chuckle from Nature. She still did not move from where she stood.
"The child stays. We are, after all deciding his fate. If he seems like a danger-"
"A danger? This child?" the weapon spat in disbelief.
"Mena," Death said warningly.
She stared him down before angrily rushing out of the room, the clouds on the wall turning a stormy gray, and Death not meeting her eyes.
So started out a fun chapter, ended seriously. For some reason when I type Mena I imagine her with a southern accent. -shrug- Have no idea why. Weird.
Mother Nature is Death's sister. Kind of loosely going on Greek myths since they're some of my favorites so Death = Hades and Mother Nature = Demeter though this is all loosely based. Have no idea why I picked Mother Nature and Father Time other then the fact that almost all cultures and myths (or at least the ones that I've studied which is only about 3 or 4) seem to have a diety for Earth and Time. so yeah.
So thanks for the reviews, story adds, and alerts. Much appreciated. Have no idea when the next update will be up with school and stuff.
Anyway, nothing more to say so...PLEASE REVIEW!