genessia | (no subject)

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WHO: Death the Kid, Maka Albarn, Spirit "Deathscythe" Albarn, and whoever else happens to show up!
WHAT: Maka and Kid stop by Spirit's apartment and discover a mess. This may or may not eventually lead to the adornment of apartments in Christmas decorations, it depends on how things go.
WHEN: December 7th
WHERE: Spirit's apartment
WARNINGS: Sometimes the meisters swear, idk.

"It's locked."

The two Meisters - one an athletic girl with her pale hair tied up in slender pigtails that fell to her shoulders, the other a sallow and gaunt youth with three white stripes in his own black hair - stood before the door leading into the apartment of one Deathscythe. Just down the hall from their own.

Death the Kid glanced at Maka, placed his hands behind his back and turned sharply away on a heel, coughing conspicuously.

"I'll give you to the count of three to open up, Spirit."

You know, just in case he's home.

Why knock when you have a vivacious young Meister willing to kick the door open, after all? So much more efficient than being patient!

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"I'll be--"

Well, he would have been right there if not for some complicating factors. Spirit was discharged from the hospital but he's still struggling with mobility and strength, and the arduous task of cleaning up the kitchen has been left to him. When the knocking started he would've been to his feet faster if he wasn't crouched on the floor trying to figure out how to get dried blood out of the cracks in the tile with one good hand.

When the door is kicked open he whirls, frowning. "I said I'd be right there!"

Yep that definitely is Spirit sitting on the floor with a bucket of soapy water. Look the apartment is gross ok.

"--What the crap is this?! What are you doing?"

Her father, hospitalized for being eaten and still recovering, is once again foolishly taking things onto himself. Maka stomps in, all fury and fluster, and gestures at the man--looking at Kid with a really?? expression.

"Kid, get him out of the way, hold him, do something. I'll handle this mess."

Sometime in between the door bursting open and Maka looking in Kid's direction, the reaper has moved, and now mysteriously has a blanket in hand. Whether this is something he yanked off the couch or produced from that strange Grim Reaper pocket space he has or whatever is up to one's imagination, but he snaps the fabric with a shake.

"Please do," he stoically replies, "The sight is making me ill. Deathscythe..."

Uh oh. Kid advances on Spirit, something behind his shoulders crackling restlessly, black and inscrutable.

"I'm just trying to clean up this--"

Does he answer too slowly or something? Is that why he isn't being given the opportunity to reply before people kick his door in?

"If you so much as touch me with that, Lord Death..."

There isn't much to the threat because honesty Spirit wouldn't retaliate for the action despite being firmly against the idea of being restrained by those unpleasantly familiar skull-shaped tendrils. "I'll move."

The scythe is eying the crackles of energy coming off of the reaper with appropriate wariness, trying to get himself off the floor and out of the way. ~~The amount of difficulty he has doing so does nothing to help his case.~~

In this time, Maka's left down the hall back to their own apartment and back with her cleaning supplies--a mop, a bucket, disinfectants, and towels. She still looks annoyed as she sets to work with filling the bucket with water and scouting out the dirty spots.

That idiot father of hers, he's struggling to move and he still didn't ask for help. What is it with men, why are they so stupidly stubborn? Did Mom have this much trouble with him besides the unfaithfulness in general?

"Stubborn idiot, you could have called me for help," Maka says with an emphasizing thunk of the bucket on the floor. She may not be as extreme about it as Kid, but she hates mess just as much as the next person, and all this...it could be classed as a biohazard--how disgusting! She starts to clean, muttering to herself all the while about "stubborn men" and "hospitalized but still stupid."

No, silly Deathscythe. It's because these teenagers can get famously impatient (or at least, Kid does about nearly everything he wants ~~five~~ eight minutes ago, and Maka tends to be when it comes to her father) and they're here on a MISSION.

"Please," drones the reaper with undisguised aggravation, "Just rest quietly."

And yes, he is moving too slowly for his liking, but at least he is making every effort to comply; Kid's hand grasps him by the back of his collar, giving him a tug to his feet, then throws the blanket over Spirit's shoulders. "How are your wounds?" Status report, Deathscythe!

"I didn't think it was going to be this bad to clean up. The mop only spread things around," he admits. Besides, something about cleaning is relaxing enough--or at the least it's straightforward with clear results. With the way things have been going, sometimes you just want tasks you can easily see the results of. A clean floor fell firmly into that category. "Not to mention I wasn't keen on showing off how bad off Stein was."

Well, he would've appreciated less tugging, but at least he's back to his feet. He tugs the blanket around his shoulder and glances at Kid with a frown. "Improving." The weapon flexes the fingers on his broken arm to illustrate his point. "Everything's moving the way it should, which I'll take as the improvement it is."

Spirit isn't exactly a fan of being treated like an invalid, but it's clear the two teens are leaving him no space to argue the point.

"Hmmmn."

A doubtful noise, but Maka continues with the cleaning--obsessively lifting all traces of blood from the nooks and crannies.

She's not treating him like an invalid. It's only common sense that anybody who's injured or sick should rest and ask for help. It's common sense that anyone should ask for help if a task is beyond their means. Going full tilt on one's own is dangerous, not to mention a good way to irritate loved ones.

Besides, as a daughter, she should be taking care of her father, shouldn't she? Why won't he let her? They had problems, but...

Stein emerges from a bedroom. Not his bedroom. Spirit's bedroom. As he leaves, he sticks something in his pocket. He's not sure what it is, but it's fascinatingly corrupted.

His left arm is in a sling, and he looks twitchy and tired.

"Why are you here?" And that you means everyone except the one person who's supposed to be in this apartment.

"At least that's a step in the right direction," says Kid, as his sallow fingers begin to fuss with straightening out Spirit's general appearance. Don't appreciate being primped by a god? Tough. Deal with it, you're part of Kid's life now, and this is certainly a thing.

Something pings his attention, however, and he pauses to look in the direction of Stein's voice.

"Ah," notes the reaper, pleased, "Stein, glad you could join us." His smile falters, "Haven't you rested at all?"

The grief seed pulsed gently in Stein's pocket. A small ripple of power traveled through the room, a cake on a platter appearing on a nearby table, pristine and fresh and smelling oh so delicious iced in white and pink frosting. A few moments later a plate of brownies appeared in the center of the stove, several cupcakes manifesting in the cabinets, peppermint canes hanging from the lampshades...

"I like tidying up when I can. It's something to do."

For a guy with only limited use of one hand and a severely limited range of motion with broken ribs, he thought he was doing a decent job of looking presentable most days. Of course, this was Kid, and Kid's standards of 'presentable' are a bit different than most. It's nothing short of a miracle that a single sling has been tolerated.

One hand starts to shoo Kid away, but his attention turns to the door opening behind him. "What were you doing in there?"

Spirit would be more suspicious of Stein's actions of it weren't for the cake that's just appeared on the kitchen table. Of all the people he's met in Genessia, there's only one who can pull off that sort of nonsense.

Last he checked she was also very dead, so...cake shouldn't be doing that.

"...Um."

What is all of this happening suddenly and why does she feel a pulse of a corrupted soul somewhere? All these sweets popping up, and she's still not sure if the counters are even clean enough for this. Maka continues to scrub at the remaining bits of blood, looking at the materialized confections with a wariness that says "these might explode."

All right. Try to change the subject. "We're here because we wanted to check up on my father and our teacher. Hard concept to grasp, I know, but it's a thing that we do."

"Y--"

Aaaaaaaand all at once, Kid seems to either just detect something is amiss or notice the cakes for the first time, because he's going to fuss. It's happening. Right now.

"You can't just leave food lying around in this filth! This is a biohazard! Spirit, as a father I thought you'd know better!" Hold on, he's going to try rounding these up to foist off on a man with the use of only one arm and a younger man who would probably sooner drop it into the trash.

"Take them, eat them, do anything just-- just don't leave them here!"

The grief seed was twitching in Stein's pocket, almost as if trying to find a way out. More than once the pointy end poked holes in his pocket... The pulse was becoming stronger and more regular now. Like a heartbeat.

More and more sweets were manifesting, several cookies falling from the ceiling onto the floor (one landing on Maka's head) as well as some strange candy crystals starting to sprout and grow from the base of the kitchen faucet, spreading out into the sink and onto the counter next to it. The pantry groaned and burst open, hundreds and hundreds of little chocolate candies spilling out across the floor. And, of course, more and more sweets were appearing. Pastries of all kinds. Candy, fruit, and... pill bottles? A loud metallic clang shook the apartment as a three foot long fork fell to the ground barely missing the TV...

Stein grabs the grief seed, feeling it vibrate and twitch in his hand. He pulls it out and looks at it, turning it over and over. It's a mystery.

He glances up at Maka, annoyed.

"He's my weapon. You don't need to be here."

"I didn't put it there!" Kid's neurotic rearrangement of the sweets has ended with Spirit precariously balancing a cake in one hand, frowning. "This is the stuff Charlotte made appear--"

A pause, and it clicks. Of course, no one else in the apartment would recognize what the suddenly appearing sweets meant. He didn't either, until a small bottle of pills rolls across the floor and hit his shoe.

"That witch. The snake witch!" The one he was really very certain was dead, by the way. "I've seen her do this before." He'd gesture to the area around them, but he's looking around for the pint-sized doll witch. At that moment, he notices Stein playing with the small black orb. At first, it's unfamiliar--until he recalls finally that he'd gathered it up with the phone and amulet immediately after not being digested by Charlotte.

"Stein, what are you doing with that?"

He hadn't thought much of it. Souls here didn't have to behave as the ones with which he was familiar; he'd gathered the item to ponder over later. With all of the stress of the hospital, the filthy apartment--he'd not even thought about it again.

There's a point in time when one has to ask, "how much am I willing to put up with today?"

Between the falling sweets, the pinging of a corrupted soul at her senses, everybody in the room freaking out or being generally useless Maka has decided--not fucking this.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

Her scream leaves a faint ringing sound in the apartment, flickers of her soul start to flare in either a display of a threat or how unrestrained her irritation has made her. But the meister isn't done yet--she throws the mop behind her back to Kid, clenches her fists and glares accusingly at Stein. "Kid, clean up! Stein, why do you have a corrupted soul? Dad, why is there a corrupted soul in here and why haven't you taken it away from him?!"

Yes Maka is about one step away from going full blown killing intent at this point.

"You all have three seconds."

Kid's obviously having difficulty trying to give the matter of a corrupted soul in their vicinity (and Spirit's sort-of explanation?) the proper attention, not when there's a plethora of sweets and medication falling out of thin air and getting everywhere. Needless to say, the increasing state of messiness in an already messy kitchen is a little too much for the reaper to bear.

Snatching the mop as it's tossed to him, he nods (a little meekly, in the face of her unbridled fury) and immediately sets to work, trying to push the mess into a more manageable corner so it can be gathered into a garbage bin.

"Are you absolutely certain you defeated her?"

The grief seed twitched several more times in Stein's hand before shooting across the room, nearly hitting Maka, and embedding its pointed end in a wall. Dark cracks appeared around the point of impact, reality flickering, the residents glimpsing a world that would be very familiar to Spirit.

Instantly the number of sweets increased, several cinnamon rolls twirling across the room, a cabinet bursting open and custard pouring out onto the floor. Doughnuts seemed to be falling out from a lampshade and Neapolitan ice cream was oozing out of the vents.

A squeak and a crash and something that looked like a plush mouse with a target for a face squeezed out from under the couch, standing in front of the seed. It was about knee high, turning to face the residents and bristling as intimidatingly as a polka dotted toy mouse could.

Stein, of course, completely ignores the yelling and the argument. It's rather impressive, really, how little Maka's screaming phases him. She's still useless, in his opinion, and he has no reason to pay any attention to her.

He does have reason to pay attention to the actions the grief seed takes, and the tiny creature popping up out of almost nowhere. The boy walks over and crouches down beside the newcomer, and reaches out a hand to poke the figure in the head.

Finally Spirit moves. He's discarded the cake Kid gave him on the table and is beside Stein in a second, grabbing for the boy's collar and pulling him away from the plush mouse. "Those bite!"

Not that he's had experience with this or anything.

His ears are still ringing from Maka's shrieking, and his gaze trails between her and Kid. "I had no idea that little charm was much of anything. There wasn't any visible soul when I killed her; just that little charm, the pendant Lucifer had fed her, and the stuff Genessia gives us when we show up here."

At least he's keeping his cool, despite the brewing headache. And nerves, which seemed fair enough as Charlotte had eaten him on their last encounter. "I didn't think it was a magical anything--but this is her doing, no doubt about it. Maybe witches from her world come back?"

Spirit releases Stein's collar with hopes that his chastising and tug has made enough of a point and approaches the wall behind Maka where the grief seed had embedded itself. He studies the dark cracks as they wind around the wall, acutely aware of what they represented. Finally, he glances at Stein. The two had not worked together since Stein's arrival--something Spirit had deliberately avoided. But they are partners nonetheless, and if Charlotte has intentions of reappearing and going to eat buildings, Spirit has no qualms with taking her down again.

"Are you ready? If she's back and she's dangerous, she doesn't leave this room."

"...Hold on."

This is completely ridiculous, she might be getting a headache too--for almost the same reasons Spirit is.

"You said she likes cheese, don't you?" At least Maka thinks she heard him say that more than once. "If she comes back--first of all--that piece of her soul should probably be given back, and why don't we just give her some cheese?"

It's an odd idea, out of place for a Meister to suggest, but with the absence of Soul she's had to think a little more on actual strategies for confrontation as opposed to rushing right into the fight. Particularly when the only Weapon present doesn't let her do that.

That, and she doesn't want the apartment to get messier than it already has with a fight.

"And you're someone she likes, aren't you? Can't you talk to her?"

"I'm not talking to her if she's back like she was before--there was no talking to her then!"

Really, he'd be happy to offer the little witch cheese if he thought it might work.

"Not to mention that I don't have any in the apartment."

Perishables? They had all gone bad when he was in the hospital and he'd only replaced the very basics. Sorry.

"Wait wait WAIIIIIT!"

That would be Kid, putting his arms up, crossing them before he forms a T with his hands, looking sternly at Spirit. TIME OUT. THIS IS YOUR BOSS, CALLING A TIME. OUT. If he looks twitchy and more than a little perturbed, the fact that he is ankle-deep in custard and has Nepolitan ice cream melting on one pants leg might just have a lot to do with it.

"Witch or not, the war is over. We are not fighting, but neither do I intend on taking anything lying down!" The foot-stomping that he adds for emphasis is instantly regretted, as this results in more sticky candy-like substances splashing everywhere. Or, at least, in his immediate vicinity.

He turns, the now wholly useless mop falling from a hand that he levels on the growing cracks, pointing a shaking finger. "........I'll..!"

Edited (typos lol) 2014-12-13 03:04 (UTC)

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Sorry about breaking post order but this will give Stein something extra to react to.

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