@Poppy
Death, for Klaus, was rather seamless. He got offed, he woke up in hell with a form that was just a bit more magic based than usual, fuzzy and odd at the edges, almost purely his demonic side. So this time, it was an instant transition from burning to death from the inside out, screaming and ceasing to exist, to lying in a room full of soft pillows. Klaus just tried to calm his frantic breathing for the first fifteen minutes or so. His skin still prickled, and when he closed his eyes, he saw flames. He sighed and rubbed his temples.
He accepted a cool, refreshing drink from the server girl that came in. Then, when he felt calmer, he sat at the window, looking out over golden cities and endless wealth. It was a strange contrast to what he'd just experienced, making it seem so very petty and human. His father liked those things, enjoyed screwing around. So did Klaus.
Except, he was more invested than he let on, and so very young. He wasn't weak, though. He wasn't fucking weak.
Time went by differently in hell. Sometimes things were longer, sometimes shorter. Klaus ate meals with his father and siblings whenever possible. He spoke to other important visitors, tried to make this trip useful- even though he knew he'd just gotten himself killed like an irresponsible piece of shit, not planned this as a business project. He tried not to let boredom sink in, however distracted he was.
He made calls to ensure things were still running smoothly back in Manta Carlos, though half of the time he woke people up at four in the morning. It was fine, his employees were used to it. He checked in daily, or as much as the weird sense of days here allowed it, to make sure his baby sisters were okay. They were fine, and that shouldn't ever be surprising with how he set things up, but he still always held his breath, and would let it out again with an intense amount of relief.
It felt like a while. It wasn't, and he was back by February second, good as new, which was accurate to an uncanny degree. This wasn't his first death by far, and occasionally, he stopped to think about how far gone his original body was. The one his mother had given him, that he'd felt the sun with, experienced his bright childhood in. His magic was the same, but the human, physical side of his existence had certainly been chewed up and recreated a lot. If he wasn't as soft as he was, he'd worry about being artificial.
He worked things out with business and family the first day, as well as readjusting to how this side of reality worked. Luckily, this was far more his style, and it didn't take as much as it did in Hell for him to get back on his feet and reoriented. He'd rested in his father's realm, he didn't need to do so any more, he was itching for something more active. He was going to fulfill a promise.
The second day was research, and really, it didn't take much digging to discover Neon. That was his name? Really? Christ, Klaus could've guessed that, or made it one of his usual nicknames without suspecting a thing. Even if not directly familiar, most city-frequenters knew the guy, and Klaus himself thought he'd heard mentions in passing. Neon was just another guy that took on odd jobs, but stood out- and that wasn't purely thanks to Klaus' rather, uh, thirst based mindset. Additionally, he was friendly and likable, but when he'd said he didn't have bigger affiliations, he hadn't been lying. There was a sense of distance here.
Neon had relocated here to go to college up at Starlight, and majored in engineering and writing. Klaus smiled at that, and decided he'd learned enough. His dear killer lived in the grosser area of the Underground (which really, was already unpleasant overall), and as modestly as possible without sleeping on the fucking sidewalk. Though honestly, Klaus wasn't sure what he had was that much of a a step up.
He went over in the late afternoon to check it out, and Neon wasn't there, so he was able to talk to one of the shitty criminals he lived with about his habits. Apparently, he pretty much came home late just to pass out. Klaus was a bit disappointed. He would've liked to drag him out on date, but this was hard to work with. He was giving him chocolate, and could always just leave it in his room, but that wasn't Klaus' style at all. If he couldn't be as flashy as he liked, he'd at least make things personal and direct, and look cute while doing so.
Since his magical signature was already here, Klaus decided he would just wait patiently in Neon's room and see where that went. He left the box of valentines chocolate he'd bought on the one counter, and when he got tired of leaning up against a vaguely not icky wall spot, he just sat on Neon's bed and entertained himself with his phone. Sunlight was far gone, so he tipped his heart shaped sunglasses up onto his head, leaving them sitting nicely beside the roses in his hair. It was cold, though. Klaus hated the cold, so he kept his jacket on and slightly regretted wearing a v-neck. Only slightly, because he took his aesthetics and what looked good on him very seriously.
Past this... Klaus had no plan whatsoever. He was just doing what he said he would, and wanted to do. Was he going to die again? Get kicked out? Have a surprising amount of success thanks to the chocolate bribery? He didn't know.
"Mm. Neon," Klaus mumbled, getting a feel for the name. It was nice to have it. He hummed, feeling possessive and warm, and tried not to fidget.
Death, for Klaus, was rather seamless. He got offed, he woke up in hell with a form that was just a bit more magic based than usual, fuzzy and odd at the edges, almost purely his demonic side. So this time, it was an instant transition from burning to death from the inside out, screaming and ceasing to exist, to lying in a room full of soft pillows. Klaus just tried to calm his frantic breathing for the first fifteen minutes or so. His skin still prickled, and when he closed his eyes, he saw flames. He sighed and rubbed his temples.
He accepted a cool, refreshing drink from the server girl that came in. Then, when he felt calmer, he sat at the window, looking out over golden cities and endless wealth. It was a strange contrast to what he'd just experienced, making it seem so very petty and human. His father liked those things, enjoyed screwing around. So did Klaus.
Except, he was more invested than he let on, and so very young. He wasn't weak, though. He wasn't fucking weak.
Time went by differently in hell. Sometimes things were longer, sometimes shorter. Klaus ate meals with his father and siblings whenever possible. He spoke to other important visitors, tried to make this trip useful- even though he knew he'd just gotten himself killed like an irresponsible piece of shit, not planned this as a business project. He tried not to let boredom sink in, however distracted he was.
He made calls to ensure things were still running smoothly back in Manta Carlos, though half of the time he woke people up at four in the morning. It was fine, his employees were used to it. He checked in daily, or as much as the weird sense of days here allowed it, to make sure his baby sisters were okay. They were fine, and that shouldn't ever be surprising with how he set things up, but he still always held his breath, and would let it out again with an intense amount of relief.
It felt like a while. It wasn't, and he was back by February second, good as new, which was accurate to an uncanny degree. This wasn't his first death by far, and occasionally, he stopped to think about how far gone his original body was. The one his mother had given him, that he'd felt the sun with, experienced his bright childhood in. His magic was the same, but the human, physical side of his existence had certainly been chewed up and recreated a lot. If he wasn't as soft as he was, he'd worry about being artificial.
He worked things out with business and family the first day, as well as readjusting to how this side of reality worked. Luckily, this was far more his style, and it didn't take as much as it did in Hell for him to get back on his feet and reoriented. He'd rested in his father's realm, he didn't need to do so any more, he was itching for something more active. He was going to fulfill a promise.
The second day was research, and really, it didn't take much digging to discover Neon. That was his name? Really? Christ, Klaus could've guessed that, or made it one of his usual nicknames without suspecting a thing. Even if not directly familiar, most city-frequenters knew the guy, and Klaus himself thought he'd heard mentions in passing. Neon was just another guy that took on odd jobs, but stood out- and that wasn't purely thanks to Klaus' rather, uh, thirst based mindset. Additionally, he was friendly and likable, but when he'd said he didn't have bigger affiliations, he hadn't been lying. There was a sense of distance here.
Neon had relocated here to go to college up at Starlight, and majored in engineering and writing. Klaus smiled at that, and decided he'd learned enough. His dear killer lived in the grosser area of the Underground (which really, was already unpleasant overall), and as modestly as possible without sleeping on the fucking sidewalk. Though honestly, Klaus wasn't sure what he had was that much of a a step up.
He went over in the late afternoon to check it out, and Neon wasn't there, so he was able to talk to one of the shitty criminals he lived with about his habits. Apparently, he pretty much came home late just to pass out. Klaus was a bit disappointed. He would've liked to drag him out on date, but this was hard to work with. He was giving him chocolate, and could always just leave it in his room, but that wasn't Klaus' style at all. If he couldn't be as flashy as he liked, he'd at least make things personal and direct, and look cute while doing so.
Since his magical signature was already here, Klaus decided he would just wait patiently in Neon's room and see where that went. He left the box of valentines chocolate he'd bought on the one counter, and when he got tired of leaning up against a vaguely not icky wall spot, he just sat on Neon's bed and entertained himself with his phone. Sunlight was far gone, so he tipped his heart shaped sunglasses up onto his head, leaving them sitting nicely beside the roses in his hair. It was cold, though. Klaus hated the cold, so he kept his jacket on and slightly regretted wearing a v-neck. Only slightly, because he took his aesthetics and what looked good on him very seriously.
Past this... Klaus had no plan whatsoever. He was just doing what he said he would, and wanted to do. Was he going to die again? Get kicked out? Have a surprising amount of success thanks to the chocolate bribery? He didn't know.
"Mm. Neon," Klaus mumbled, getting a feel for the name. It was nice to have it. He hummed, feeling possessive and warm, and tried not to fidget.
