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Her choice in form (though it felt most natural to her) got her a few weird looks from some people, ironically mostly the older kind, those she'd be seeing again soonest. She was of the impression that her manner of dress was called "Goth" in this part of the world, which was also rather ironic seeing as how it was those people who seemed to have the biggest misunderstanding of what, exactly, she stood for. I am neither glamorous nor malicious, after all.
Which left the rather obvious question, though it was not one she really had bothered to ponder before. Just what am I, anyway? She wasn't a Spirit or a God, and she was certainly not anything so perishable as a demon or a witch. Which honestly didn't leave her with many options left in the immortal category. But she was immortal. Maybe.
All this uncertainty (coupled with the irritating stubbornness of her latest assignment) was giving Death a headache. She knew that the moment she became intangible again, this would disappear, along with all other sensations. Some spirits never left that state of perfect non-feeling, but Death didn't like it that much. Something about the sensations a world produced was too.... something to give up entirely. Too interesting? Too... nice? She shook her head. Yet another thing she did not know.
Well, what did she know then? She could tell each mortal being in any universe the precise date and time of its death. She knew any number of trivial things about each world she visited. Death knew she was fond of sweets, and wasn't so fond of her job, and felt pretty much neutral towards anything else. That wasn't quite true though. She liked Lakonius; he was always kind to her. And Anneteris, though something about her made Death feel small. She liked Chronos, her adopted father, though she didn't see him that often anymore-
At that point, Lakonius's voice interrupted her thoughts. Death cocked her head sideways as she tended to do when listening to such mental communications, and turned a bit pink when he mentioned her being rude. That had not been her intention at all... Well, she replied over the link, I'm sorry if I offended you, but I can return now if that is acceptable to you. I had to deal with a stubborn human... Despite herself, she was a little bit excited at the prospect of returning to that fantastical world of his.
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Perhaps unconsciously on his part, Lakonius's mental link was also informing her that he had a strange food craving, and Death's nose wrinkled slightly. Taquitos? Really? Of all the earthen delicacies, he liked those? Oh well. I do owe him anyway, for making my job easier. Death always paid her dues.
It was no difficult manner to conjure some Mexican currency (if you were going to eat something, it might as well be the good kind, after all) and teleport herself there. She'd appeared before the previous owner of this little place not too long ago, actually, but long enough that his family was no longer in the throes of grief. That would have been a little malicious, especially for her.
"Disculpe," she said, approaching the counter somewhat hesitantly. She still wasn't precisely comfortable actually interacting with humans in anything but her official capacity. "Me gustarΓa un poco de taquitos, por favor." The man shrugged and nodded, and a slightly-awkward currency exchange later, Death had the taquitos and for some reason nachos also. Oh well; maybe the demon would like them?
"Gracias," she said, taking her exit and ducking around a corner before creating herself a new portal and stepping through it. Her tracking skills were necessarily impeccable, and she emerged little more than five feet from the demon's elbow.
"Hello," she greeted flatly, extending her arm towards Lakonius. "Taquitos, from Mexico on Earth. Oh, and nachos for your friend, if she wants them." She said nothing else.
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