[ He didn't quite know what to make of the first day, of the young boy in his living room, a Christmas tree surrounded by people long drifted out of his life, and the distorted shape of- somebody who was supposed to be more familiar than they felt. The second day clued him in. Christmas 2001. As close to his present as he'd ever get again. Images he never thought he'd get to see, of people he never thought he'd get to see again. He watched them for the longest time, transfixed. A hunch for the next day started to creep in.
And Philip wasn't entirely wrong. Only he'd hoped to see his grave, and to leave it behind as he had the other memories, but it turned out that death, in more than just the metaphorical sense, would be his constant companion one more time.
'As far as plus ones go you're rather embarrassing, are you sure you'd rather not change into something more festive?' he transmits, but he doesn't have to wait for the looming figure's inertia to know that his message won't be received. Suit yourself. He sighs, and adjusts the golden laurels on his head. If they're supplying the gear, then he's going to see this through.
He makes a beeline for the wine fountain, and empties his first cup in one go. All right, that about almost makes up for it. He fills it again, adds a second one for his black-hooded chaperone. The cup passes right through it when he extends it. The reaper does not react to the offering. Philip shakes his head, and chugs down both cups.
It's then that a familiar character at the end of the buffet table catches his eye, and Philip finds himself hurriedly turning away. Sour, and it's not the aftertaste of the fountain. He tries to steal another glance, but quickly ends up staring into his empty cup instead.
Not a good impression they parted on, but does he know the guy well enough to owe him an explanation? Philip holds his cup under the fountain, and watches it fill and overflow with wine. He'll have to drink on that question a little while longer... ]
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And Philip wasn't entirely wrong. Only he'd hoped to see his grave, and to leave it behind as he had the other memories, but it turned out that death, in more than just the metaphorical sense, would be his constant companion one more time.
'As far as plus ones go you're rather embarrassing, are you sure you'd rather not change into something more festive?' he transmits, but he doesn't have to wait for the looming figure's inertia to know that his message won't be received. Suit yourself. He sighs, and adjusts the golden laurels on his head. If they're supplying the gear, then he's going to see this through.
He makes a beeline for the wine fountain, and empties his first cup in one go. All right, that about almost makes up for it. He fills it again, adds a second one for his black-hooded chaperone. The cup passes right through it when he extends it. The reaper does not react to the offering. Philip shakes his head, and chugs down both cups.
It's then that a familiar character at the end of the buffet table catches his eye, and Philip finds himself hurriedly turning away. Sour, and it's not the aftertaste of the fountain. He tries to steal another glance, but quickly ends up staring into his empty cup instead.
Not a good impression they parted on, but does he know the guy well enough to owe him an explanation? Philip holds his cup under the fountain, and watches it fill and overflow with wine. He'll have to drink on that question a little while longer... ]