[ she always does enjoy a man who is easy to fluster.
apologies, gustave. ]
I believe so, particularly ones that are tied to one's childhood. Their happier memories and their sadder ones. The ones that revolve around the people one loves.
I bet something has come to mind for you just now.
[ though she will behave and not ask about it in case it is sad, and because he has been so polite. ]
People of a certain age die every single year within my world.
Well, their death is- it's turning into flowers, into petals on the wind, and the scent always stays with me. I don't know that other people would have such an association with a floral scent, especially in worlds where that... does not occur. ( and what an amazing thing to consider - a gommage not occurring. it's everything the expedition has been fighting for. )
whatever teasing expression had been on her face has certainly waned now. there's something particularly cruel about something so horrifying being tied to a scent so lovely. she's never heard of anything like it — people turning into flowers upon death. ]
... That's awful! What do they die from?
[ a gommage, whatever that actually means, suggests these people aren't dying of old age. ]
( it feels strange to explain this to another person. everyone in lumiere knows about this since childhood, but he sees the horror in her expression, and his chest gives an ache. )
We don't really know.
A being called the Paintress shows up far off in the distance but we can still see, paints a lower number than the year before, and every single individual who is that age... they turn into flower petals, and they're gone.
We send off Expeditions to try to learn more, try to defeat her, of course, but-
( they face a rather large threat, the threat of someone that has the power of a god at the very least. )
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no subject
apologies, gustave. ]
I believe so, particularly ones that are tied to one's childhood. Their happier memories and their sadder ones. The ones that revolve around the people one loves.
I bet something has come to mind for you just now.
[ though she will behave and not ask about it in case it is sad, and because he has been so polite. ]
no subject
People of a certain age die every single year within my world.
Well, their death is- it's turning into flowers, into petals on the wind, and the scent always stays with me. I don't know that other people would have such an association with a floral scent, especially in worlds where that... does not occur. ( and what an amazing thing to consider - a gommage not occurring. it's everything the expedition has been fighting for. )
no subject
whatever teasing expression had been on her face has certainly waned now. there's something particularly cruel about something so horrifying being tied to a scent so lovely. she's never heard of anything like it — people turning into flowers upon death. ]
... That's awful! What do they die from?
[ a gommage, whatever that actually means, suggests these people aren't dying of old age. ]
no subject
We don't really know.
A being called the Paintress shows up far off in the distance but we can still see, paints a lower number than the year before, and every single individual who is that age... they turn into flower petals, and they're gone.
We send off Expeditions to try to learn more, try to defeat her, of course, but-
( they face a rather large threat, the threat of someone that has the power of a god at the very least. )