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Struggling. Squirming. Fading. Thus is the life of a God with no followers.
A millennia has the shadow resided here, stuck in a dilapidated shrine, never any visitors, only being held together through what little strength he still has. He regrets never meeting who made this wonderful shrine in the first place, surely it must've been intended for another god instead if no one came to worship him. What is he even the god of? His existence is so small, so fleeting, so long lasting yet that he has forgotten what his purpose in life was. How was he supposed to remember, if no one ever told him what he was meant to be the God of?
It's pathetic to feel this way, he is a God, he shouldn't feel so weak, but what is he to do when no one exists to give him any sort of power? He writhes across the floor, his formless body pressing against everything it could and clinging to it. He had power when he was first born, strength that he could use over others, he remembered that much. He craves to have the feeling of that strength again, to wield power over mortals who worship him, knowing their lives were in his grasp, knowing he had the power to end them if he truly desired. Has any other God felt this pathetic before? Surely he wasn't the only one. For as long as the world has turned, surely there have been plenty of Gods left by the wayside, left to slowly and agonizingly rot away in their forgotten shrines. A God's power comes from the knowledge and worship they accrue after all, a mutual relationship between them and the mortals they reside over. So trusting, those lots. So willing to give their lives away to higher entities that be just to feel security, happiness.
And yet, no one ever came to him for security.
....
... What was that noise.
Footsteps. Footsteps? Outside? Surely, that must've been what he heard. It's been so long, yet he remembers the sound all too clearly, the sound of mortals walking by his chamber, slowly fading away with every passing day, not a single one ever entering to pray or give offerings. The footsteps were getting louder, closer, and although he had nothing resembling that of mortal organs, he could almost understand the feeling of a racing heart in that very moment.
A man walks through the doorway, tall and blue, hidden under a cloak, the gilded clasp of said cloak catching the God's eyes. Is this what a worshipper was meant to look like? Someone that would pray to him? Give gifts to him, their life to him?
The man walks forward, nearly stepping on the God's shadowy form, though he moves himself out of the way before his foot touches the ground. He was looking around, observing the place, holding out a light that felt blinding to the shadow. He walks forward still, the God moving himself out of the way of every step he took, walking towards the centerpiece of the shrine to inspect it further. Somehow, seeing the mortal get so close to his main residency, the one and only offering ever set down at the middle of the shrine, made him feel fear for the first time in his eternal life.
He reaches out, tendrils creeping up from the shade of the floor and latching onto the mortal's leg, nearly tripping them in the process. He looks down at the tendrils, and being so close to the mortal, he could feel the instant panic and fear were setting in. He hasn't even done anything yet, but it's as if just the knowledge that something was residing in this shrine is what frightened the mortal, and he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy knowing they feared him. He speaks up, tries to call to the mortal, but his voice was garbled, incomprehensible, multiple and loud and quiet and painful. The mortal, of course, doesn't respond, simply panicking further and trying to step away.
"Wh-what-" The mortal speaks, voice deep and quiet and yet still clearly full of fear. He was cut off, however, as the tendrils continue to cling to him, crawling up his legs, leaving him falling directly into the dark mass clinging to the floor. He's surrounded then, more and more of the blinding fog clinging to his blue skin, smothering him, trying to get as close to him as possible. The God calls out again, this time trying his best to focus his voice. It had been so long since he had used his voice, he had forgotten how to control it. It was still incomprehensible in a sense, still had no distinct sound, several words all said at once. He's not sure what he should actually be saying.
"What- What are you-?" The mortal questions, his voice quivering as he stares down at the darkness. He wasn't moving, which made the God feel better at least. Yes, a question. He could answer a question.
He is a God. He is a Shadow. He is Nothing. He is Everything. He has no mass. He is nothing but mass. He is eternally dark. He is still visible to the naked eye. Oh, it seems like his answer left the mortal more confused.
"Let me go, please-" The mortal pleaded, trying to keep his voice even even though the shadow could still sense his fear. He didn't want to let go, he wanted to feel the warmth of a mortal for longer, the presence of a mortal, the sounds and emotions flooding his senses was reinvigorating. Yet, something deep inside still made him let go, still felt remorse for scaring the only mortal he's ever seen.
The moment he let go, the mortal jumped to their feet and ran, leaving him shouting out after them. No, wait, come back, I'm sorry, I don't want to hurt you. I just want someone to care about me.
But the mortal was already gone. All that they left behind was that blinding beam of light. He clung to it, absorbed it into himself. It hurt, the light hurt, yet he didn't want to let go. He wanted to believe it to be his second ever offering.
...
... He has been waiting for the mortal to come back. Surely, they'll come back, right? He has to come back. He has to.
... How long has it been? He doesn't process time in the same way mortals do, doesn't understand the concept of days, but if he were to guess he would say maybe two days have passed. He feels embarrassed upon realizing he's been trying to keep track, was he really that desperate for someone to acknowledge him? To try and count days that he doesn't even understand, just to keep track of how long the mortal's been gone? What kind of God is he, to experience such a lonely shame, to cling onto the first person he meets like that. The mortal wasn't going to c-
Footsteps. Footsteps?
He perks up. He tries to pull himself off the floor in excitement, forgetting that his shapeless form was stuck to the ground and only hurting himself in the process. He watches the doorway, watches as the same cloaked form enters through it, tall and blue and holding something in his hands. Tendrils latch onto his legs the moment he steps further into the room, the God eager to greet him back to his shrine, eager to see the mortal's face once again regardless of how uncertain it looked.
".... Darkness at my feet, I may not understand your existence- I may still be perplexed by what exactly you are-," The grip on the item in their hands tightens, "- But, as far as I can tell, this shrine is your home. I'm sure whoever built this shrine worshipped you at a point, but clearly they have been gone for a long time. So, regardless of any personal biases I may have, I wish to fulfill whatever was lost in their absence."
The mortal crouches and sets the item onto the floor, deep in the darkness that was the God's body. He stared at the item for a moment, trying to decipher what it was. It was a wooden basket, full of foodstuffs and beautiful blue flowers.
He's not sure he's ever had mortal food before, he's unsure if he could even eat, but he still felt delighted being gifted it. A genuine offering, a true one, one gifted to him by someone who wished to honor any power he might've had. While they weren't correct in the assumption that he used to have followers, it still made a sense of warmth flow through him. He tries to move the basket, pulls it off the floor, holds it in his shaky form as he tries to shuffle it over to the shrine centerpiece. The mortal watches on, staring as the basket was set tenderly on an empty pillar, sat right next to the flashlight they lost here the other day. The dim light it emitted showed it was still lasting.
The God tries to call out to the mortal once more, desperately trying to voice how grateful he felt, how happy he was to be gifted an offering, but it seems his voice just gave them a headache instead. He quiets down.
Instead, he tries reaching up towards them further, tries crawling up their legs further than before, struggling against his stuck form on the floor. The mortal stares at him, still uneasy, yet to his surprise willingly sits down. He surrounds him, swallowing his legs in the fog, creeping up his torso, his arms, his shadowed mass slipping its way between his fingers. Please, please understand I am trying to show my gratitude. I wish to thank you, I want to thank you so much, but you can't understand me, can't understand how I work, I don't want to hurt you.
The mortal grabs a part of him then, momentarily startling the God. Softly, gently and with care, a single tendril was massaged between their fingers, being held with as much tenderness as you would a small animal, and that action alone made the God feel a flurry of emotions crash through him all at once.
"My name is Jevin," The mortal speaks up. Jevin? Jevin. A good name for a mortal. The God tries to respond, tell Jevin his name, but Jevin's face just scrunches up in response. Right, mortals can't comprehend the name of a God, that's why others were given mortal names instead. Please, Jevin, what name should I be gifted? What do you believe is a fitting name for a God such as I?
Something in Jevin's face changes, recognition, as if something has finally started clicking in his brain. "... Black," Jevin states, "Your name shall be Black. A void such as you, all engulfing, deserves to share the name of such a color."
Black.... Black. He likes Black. Truly, he would have accepted whatever name Jevin gifted him, but he is glad that the one Jevin landed on felt nice on his nonexistent tongue. Black he will be.
Thank you, Jevin.
...
...
... Footsteps. Jevin enters Black's chamber once again, holding yet another offering, just like usual.
"Dear Black, I come bearing another gift. May this one be as satisfactory as the last." Jevin walks forward, tendrils of shade following each step he took, setting the offering down in front of the centerpiece. Deep blue flowers, dried petals, and fragrant soaps. By this point in time, the shrine's centerpiece had been practically covered in blue flowers by this point, clearly Jevin's favorite thing to gift him. Though Black doesn't know the name of the flowers, he's still grateful for them all the same. He would never admit it, but he was satisfied with everything that Jevin gave him, even if they were items he couldn't use. The foodstuffs has either rotted or been eaten away by rats at this point. Black doesn't care.
Jevin kneels in front of the centerpiece, holding his head down and clasping his hands together. He whispers a small prayer, wishes for a long and fufilling life as always, full of safety and security, Black crawling up onto his back and enveloping him in his darkness as he listened on.
Black had been slowly gaining his strength back ever since Jevin began worshipping him, slow and steady, as much power as having one singular follower could give you. At the very least, he could move himself up off the ground in a sense, now he could reach the tops of half collapsed pillars and worn down wall decor, he could even reach up to Jevin's shoulders on a good day. He was still formless, still couldn't do much over Jevin outside of tripping him and giving him migraines, but he still felt better than before.
Jevin goes silent, yet stays in the praying pose, perhaps thinking of what to say next. Black moves closer to him, some of his darkness draping over Jevin's shoulders and resting there. Then, Jevin speaks back up, louder than before, "I live in a village nearby. Have I told you that yet, Lord Black?"
Oh? No, you havent told me that yet, Jevin. Is it a nice village?
"Hm... it's a small and quaint town, only seventeen of us reside there last time I counted. Everyone knows eachother due to the small size... although, I am not exactly treated as if I belong."
Black flares, Jevin watching as the fog over his legs begins to shake. He takes hold of some of it in his hand, pets it, trying to comfort Black. "They don't believe in the same things as I do, don't view the world the same as in my eyes. There are so many Gods out there that I have encountered, yet they don't believe them to be true."
Jevin lightly squeezes the part of Black in his fingers. Black shivers. "So many Gods I have encountered, and yet you feel the most tangible to me, the most corporeal. I want to tell them about you, Dear Black, yet I already know how they will react to my gospel. I wonder if I should try anyways, try to bring them here to you, introduce my peers to your darkness personally. Do you believe that to be a good idea, Black?"
Black seeps further into Jevin's body, hugging every crease of his clothes, seeping between them and touching skin.
Do it. Regardless of the outcome, more people deserve to hear about my existence. People need to know about me.
"... Yes, Lord Black."
...
Footsteps. Jevin is back. Surprisingly, Jevin didn't have an offering with him this time. Black can't remember the last time Jevin came empty handed, though he's sure there was a good reason.
Jevin kneels down in front of the centerpiece, letting Black surround him as he pleased. "Apologies for coming unprepared, Lord Black, I didn't have an offering made in time for this visit. I did what I was asked of me, I did my best to spread the word of your existence to my fellow villagers. As I expected, none of them seemed to take me seriously, as if I would like to them about something such as this." Even though his hands were hidden under his cloak, Black could still see the fabric scrunch where Jevin was gripping onto it. "I tried to convince a few of them to come here, see you for themselves, but they declined that as well. Even the sheriff, whom I consider the closest friend I have in that village, thought me rambling again."
Jevin looks down at the fog. "... Black, if you will be honest, did you truly think there would have been a different potential outcome?"
No, I didn't. I just enjoyed the thought of more people knowing that I exist, even if they don't believe I do. I crave to be known. After all, that's how every other God has spread, hasn't it?
".. I guess that's true, word of mouth is a very strong tool to hold... although, Dear Black, if you'll humor my musings, I wonder if there is a way for you to leave this chamber? If they refuse to come and see you, perhaps you could come and see them instead?"
Black curls around Jevin, a single tendril of shade wrapping around his neck. I am stuck to the floor of this shrine, I could not leave even if I want to. I have been here for a millennia, unmoving, doing nothing but waiting for someone to come along before you found me. I don't know if there is a way for me to leave.
"... What if, I gave you a body?"
... ?
"I'm sure my worship and offerings have given you renowned strength, but surely I could do more, yes? Perhaps a ritual, a sacrifice, would give you the strength to pull yourself off the floor and become man like me? Well, a God pretending to be man."
The fog writhes, twisting and turning. Ohh, I like that idea. So devoted to me, that you are willing to commit a sacrifice to my name? And what would you sacrifice in this case?
"An animal would most likely be for the better, no one would miss it if a goat went missing compared to, say, one of my fellow townsfolk. Besides, even if I have devoted myself to you for some time now, I am still unsure that I am willing to kill one of my kind for you."
Hm. The thought of a sprunki sacrifice is enticing, don't put the idea in my head, I might just convince you to go through with it someday. But anyhow, an animal will do just fine for now, just the thought of you taking the life of anything in my name is making me excited.
Jevin stands then, catching Black off guard. "I will do my best, Lord Black. The next time I come to this shrine, I will have all that is needed for the ritual, and hopefully then you will have the power to leave this place behind. You deserve a better place of worship anyhow. I will see you soon."
Jevin walks off, leaving Black to ruminate. Blood... he has never tasted blood, only heard through word of mouth from other Gods just how delicious it was, how sickly sweet, intoxicating. Black quivers, feeling as if he was salivating had it not been for his lack of mouth.
...
... Black heard a new sound this time. A bleat, croaky and weak, definitely from a goat on its last legs. As Jevin walked into the chamber, Black noted the goat following close behind him, being led with a rope tied around its horns. He crawls up its legs, pressing into its fur, feeling the texture of its hooves. Much different from Jevin's smooth, almost rubbery skin.
"I apologize My Lord, for I was only able to get my hands on the eldest goat of the herd. Despite its age, it should still be sufficient all the same. Shall I set up the ritual?"
Black is intrigued by what potential ritual Jevin had in mind. He doesn't give a verbal answer for once, but instead pushes his body around, leaving a space in the middle of the floor for Jevin to preform all that was necessary. I mean, it would be hard to do anything through a smog that was so dark you couldn't see past it.
"I will take that as a yes. Thank you, dear Black." Jevin sets the goat to the side, tying the rope to a broken nearby pillar, leaving it to its own devices for the time being. Jevin kneels down to the open space and procures something from under his cloak. What did it say on the box? 'Chalk'? Jevin pulls a piece of 'chalk' from the box, and begins to draw on the floor a strange symbol that Black didn't recognize. It felt similar in shape, as if it should belong to The Language of The Gods, and yet it was a symbol that Black had never seen before. Possibly a more simplified shape for mortals, in case the time arises for its usage?
Jevin stands up once he was done drawing the symbol, putting the 'chalk' back in the box and putting it back under his cloak. He collects the goat and leads it to the middle of the symbol, the goat letting itself be lead to its demise. Black watched Jevin continue to stare at the goat, his fingers brushing over its fur the same way he does with Black's body sometimes. Then, Jevin's other hand appears from under the cloak, wielding what was recognizably a sacrificial dagger as he slashed the goat's throat wide open. The goat screamed and began to panic, blood pooling from its neck and dripping to the floor. Black moved closer, eager to taste the blood, feel how it felt to taste, and as a droplet bled down into his mass, he felt intense emotion and power sweep through his entire self.
Oh, the sweetest thing he has ever tasted, so slick, so wet, so deep and rich and metallic and lord he couldn't get enough. He needed more. I need more. More blood. May this goat be drained by my hand if I have any say in this ritual, I cannot waste a single drop, I need it, I crave it. Blood, sweet blood.
Black gripped onto the goats legs, making it trip and fall as it continued to struggle. It screamed again, but was quickly overtaken by Black, engulfing the poor thing and swimming deep in its innards through its wound. He absorbed all of that crimson delight he could find, left the goat weaker and weaker, bleating pathetically until it finally stopped moving.
Jevin watched from above, fascinated by how Black's body seemed to writhe from the fresh taste of blood. Despite the goat being bled dry, this was not the end of the ritual. Jevin wipes the knife off on his sleeve, pauses, then slices open the palm of his hand, wincing and tearing up as his own blood drips down onto Black. He watches as a droplet of his own blood disappears into the fog, that spot suddenly shooting up, writhing and sprouting tendrils everywhere, almost as if Black couldn't contain himself at the taste. Jevin could hear whispers coming from him, but no discernable message was being given. As more and more of Jevin's blood falls, he closes his eyes and chants, repeating the same three words over and over as more and more of the fog shot up. The whispers were loud and just as incomprehensible as they had been the day he met Black, and somehow, he believes that to be a very, very good thing.
Wave upon wave crashed through Black as he absorbed more and more of Jevin's blood, delicious and decadent, addicting, and yet it almost felt painful to keep consuming it. Even still, Black craved more, desperately reaching up further and further towards Jevin's hand, finding himself having no struggle to move up at all.
He grabs Jevin's hand, causing him to gasp and halt his chant as he opened his eyes. Black can feel his body slowly pulling away from the floor, concentrating, condensing in on itself, but Black could care less. He latches onto Jevin's hand, smothering the open wound and trying to invade Jevin's body as he did the poor goat. Jevin, frightened, tries to pull away from Black, but just ends up dropping his knife and falling in the process. He watches with a mix of surprise and terror as Black begins to form shape, still faded and indistinct, yet still noticeably more human than before. Somehow, he could even see hands grabbing his arm now, and a tongue lapping against his wound. In that moment, Jevin realized that he had been pinned by Black to the floor once again. He feels dizzy.
"B-Black, enough-! I- I can't- you've already formed! Let go- please-"
Jevin's voice snaps Black back to reality, panicked and scared, just as he was the day they met. Black tenses as he pulls away, the taste of Jevin's blood already leaving his mouth as Jevin pulls his hand away. Black takes a moment to adjust to what was happening, and- oh. He was above Jevin. He's never been above him like this before. The new perspective mixed with Jevin's frightened face felt... Black wasn't sure what he was feeling, but it felt good.
Slowly, Black tries to stand, noting that not only was he no longer stuck to the floor, but much taller than he was before. He looks down at himself, still foggy and dark as ever, and yet he almost looked like he was gifted Jevin's body. It felt... strange, to say the least, to be in a form completely foreign to you, but it wasnt unwelcome.
He looks back down to Jevin, less frightened than before but still frazzled. He looked dizzy- Oh. Oh. Black had nearly killed him, didn't he? Oh, he really was strong now. Who knew blood was that powerful?
A tendril creeps out from the mass that was his lower body, reaching out to Jevin and grabbing hold of one of his arms, pulling him up and off the floor. Jevin stumbles and nearly falls again, but Black catches him in his... arms, just letting Jevin rest against his newfound body. Hm, being close like this felt much different from what he was used to. Quite honestly, it felt worse to hold him like this.
Jevin? Jevin, can you hear me? I didn't take too much from you, did I? I'm sorry. Your blood was too good to stop.
"I'm- I'm alright, Black- I'll be fine, I just need to rest, I think- Can- Can you leave this place now-?"
Oh, Black had nearly forgotten that's what this was for.
Black looks down at himself. He doesn't really have feet, or legs for that matter, so he's not sure if he could step like Jevin does. Maybe just his regular shifting around will suffice?
He holds Jevin tightly as he forces himself forward, Jevin stumbling with him as he moves closer and closer to the doorway. Something about getting so close to the exit was frightening, he has only known this room for so long that he never considered what could be past it. What did it look like outside? How big was this shrine, really? Did the sun shine outside, or was it the moon out there? Did the sun and the moon even still exist?
Black walks outside.
The sky was... orange and purple. Dusk, it takes Black a moment to realize. Stars shined overhead, the lifetimes of dead Gods gleaming above, and yet he could still see the sun in the horizon, eyes closed yet looking content. Something deep inside Black shook, and, oh, outside felt beautiful. He couldn't cry, but he's sure this feeling is what crying is like to a mortal.
"My house is to the northwest- We should- I need to lay in bed- it's best if we go home-"
... Home? We? But, isn't the shrine my home?
Black looks back at the shrine. It looked to be on the verge of collapsing right then and there.
... Actually, maybe sharing a home sounds nice.
...
Black stares down at Jevin, sleeping soundly in his bed, hand bandaged and cloak thrown to the side. He's not sure how long he had been watching Jevin for, but something about seeing him in such a vulnerable state, curled up and hiding under nothing but a single piece of fabric, was keeping his attention.
Black reaches forward and pulls the blanket down off of Jevin, staring as the blue man curled further in on himself. Seeing Jevin without his cloak on, regardless of the fact that he was still fully clothed, felt invading. Black was too used to Jevin's usual attire it seems, because Jevin feels practically naked without it. He's never seen his body in full like this before.
Black rests his blurry hand on Jevin, feeling the texture of his shirt as he slowly moved it down. He stares at Jevin's sleeve, noticing some dried blood staining the blue. Black puts his hand over the stain, wondering if he could absorb it still, but it was unfortunately too dry for him to drink.
Light lands on the edge of Jevin's bed, catching Black's attention. He looks towards the window and, oh, had the sun come back up already? Oh, it must be morning then.
Black continues to stare at Jevin, observing, watching as the light slowly moved in such a way that landed directly over Jevin's eyes. His face scrunches, his hand moves up to shield his eyes, and then he slowly blinked awake. Jevin looked up at Black, fear flashing in his eyes for just a moment before he calmed down. "Oh, it's just you..."
Good morning.
"Right.." Jevin shuffles and sits up, still seemingly tired and a little dizzy. Huh, strange. Shouldn't he have recovered from rest?
Jevin moves to stand, takes a single step, and then immediately stumbles and trips. Black catches him before he could fall. "Th-thanks-" Jevin pulls away and tries walking again, wobbling some but managing. Black watches him move towards a cabinet of some kind, opening a drawer and pulling out an identical pair of clothes.
"I'm going to bathe-" Jevin states, before stumbling off towards the door. Black has no idea what that meant. Curious, he follows Jevin out of the room, all the way into a different room entirely, one which was white and pristine. Black looked to the wall next to him, noticing his reflection, staring at his own blurry self. He had no features, just a shadow.
Jevin sputters next to him, "D-Don't follow me into here-! I would like some privacy, please-"
Oh. Alright.
Black walks out of the white room, Jevin closing the door once he was out. He stands staring at the door for a moment, hearing something akin to running water behind it, before he grows bored and decides to explore Jevin's home some more.
It was surprisingly small, not what he expected Jevin's residency to be like. Though, he's not exactly sure what he was expecting in the first place. Small, humble, not much to be seen. What Black could only assume was the main room had nothing but a long cushioned chair, a table, a plant or two in the corner, and a strange black box. Black moved closer to the box, noting how the front of it seemed to be reflective. Despite the dark color, he could still see himelf in it. He truly was vague, what he could only assume was how a person looked in mortal dreams, though even in dreams they probably still had eyes.
Black ponders for a moment. Hm. Would he be able to give himself eyes, if he thought hard enough? But, what would his eyes even look like? He thinks to Jevin, how relaxed and almost tired Jevin's eyes always seemed to be, how deep of a blue they were, so deep that Black had assumed they werent colored at all at first.
... hm.
Black stares. And stares. Face shifting. Staring. Thinking. A flash of white fading in from the darkness. Thinking. Forming two simple shapes. Staring.
.... Huh. It feels strange holding a color so bright as white. I wonder what Jevin will think of this new look?
... Hm. Actually, I look a little naked myself. Could I even wear clothes, or would they just fall through me? I could make myself look like I'm wearing clothes perhaps, but what would I even wear? All I know is Jevin's sense of fashion, and I'm not sure if he'd appreciate me looking like him. Huh. What does the average mortal wear anyways?
Black moves away from the black box, staring around the room some more. There were a few things on the table; there was a cup of some kind, three blue flowers in a pot, and what looked to be parchment. Black observed the parchment closer, noting the writing it had along its surface. It was rolled up though, so he couldn't read it all to well.
He grabs the roll and unfurles it, revealing massive walls of text lining every surface of the paper, only occasionally being broken up by a picture of some kind. There was a singular piece of the paper that was dedicated to small doodles, which Black could only assume were trying to tell jokes. He didn't understand any of them or found them quite funny.
He moves back away from the drawing page, a particular image catching his eye. A man wearing a hat and fancy attire of some kind, the bolded words under the image saying something about 'a magician,' though he wasn't sure what that was either. Regardless, something about the look was catching Black's eye. Maybe he could try looking like that?
Black looks back at the black box, staring into his reflection, thinking, staring as his form begins to shift and change. His head morphs, now appearing as if he was wearing the same hat as the man in the photo. A new spot of white appears on his chest, squirming and morphing, until it looked like the strange neck attire the man had donned on him. Hm... actually, I quite enjoy this look. Hopefully Jevin does as well.
In the distance he notes that the sound of running water had gone, which Black could only assume meant Jevin was done with whatever he was doing in there. He moves back towards the closed door, waiting for it to open. The door creaks, a small amount of steam escapes, Jevin standing there and looking just as he did before (save looking a bit damp).
Jevin's eyes widen at the sight of Black, taking a moment to register that it was him he was looking at. "O-Oh- You're.. looking quite dapper there, Lord Black." Jevin reaches a hand out towards Black's chest, but hesitates last moment. Black encourages him by moving closer, and Jevin reaches back out, trying to take hold of Black's new white tie. It fades through his fingers, not a physical object, yet he still seems satisfied now knowing the tie acted just the same as the rest of Black's body. Jevin moves his hand away.
Jevin steps out of the white room, moving past Black and towards the main room, still a tad wobbly. Black follows, watching as Jevin walked towards a room connected to the main one, a room of which Black hadn't explored yet. As Black shifted closer, Jevin tripped again, falling to the floor before Black even had the chance to catch him. Black tenses, moving to help Jevin back up as the poor mortal groaned in pain. "Thank y-" Jevin started, but he cut himself off as Black suddenly picked him up fully, now carrying him over to the couch and setting him down onto it like a sickly child. Something about the motion mixed with the concern shown in Black's visible eyes made Jevin feel funny, but it was embarrassing as well.
Jevin sits up, "Thank you my Lord, but- I need to get something to eat, I-"
Suddenly, everything stops, Jevin feeling paralyzed in place, something piercing and cold flowing though him and forcing him still. No. Do not move. You are still unwell, that much is clear. I am willing to aid you in this moment, it's only fair with how you've aided me.
Jevin sputters, shakes, and slowly lays back down over the couch. Good. Rest and wait.
Black walks back towards that other room, walking inside and taking note of everything he saw. White tiled floor, cabinets and drawers, a big white rectangle, a smaller black rectangle on a counter, and some strange black topped device. Despite how foreign it all felt to Black, he could only assume this was where food was kept, considering Jevin was walking towards here before he fell.
He opens a few cabinets, finding cups, plates and bowls, containers of some kind, and other strange contraptions hes never seen before. He opens a drawer, full of knives and other silverware that he could only assume was for eating. No food here. He opens another cabinet, boxes of oats, metal cylinders with pictures of soups and vegetables on them, a jar of... 'peanut butter.' That's better, but the oats don't seem too nutritious, and Black was unsure of how to open the cylinders. He pulls the 'peanut butter' out, just in case he doesn't find anything else to feed him.
He walks towards the big white rectangle, noting that it had a door handle on it. Oh, was this also a cabinet of some kind? Black opens it, the inside bright and cold, foodstuffs such as vegetables and fruits and what even looked to be meat stored inside. Oh, fresh food, this is definitely good.
... Except, Black was still unsure of what mortals actually ate as meals. I mean, Jevin gives him small loaves and sometimes cheese. Is there cheese and bread in here?
Black shuffles a few items around, eventually finding what was labled as 'cheese' behind a few drinks of some kind. Oh, Jevin probably needs something to quench thirst as well, doesn't he? Black grabs that too, looking at the label as he did so. Oh, apparently this is meant to be tea. Cold tea?
Hm. Cheese and a beverage, but no bread. Where would bread be kept in here?
Black looks around a second time, and notices a small wooden box on the counter. He opens it, and inside was a loaf of bread, preserved in a plastic covering and sliced. Oh, there we go.
Black goes back to one of the other cabinets to grab a bowl, now placing all the items he has procured into it; four slices of the weirdly soft bread, a piece of cheese broken off from the entire piece, and the singular 'cold tea' beverage. Black stares at it. He looks back at the white rectangle. He pulls out a plastic package of cured meat, and puts some of those in there as well. He stares at it. He looks at the counter again, and notices another pot of blue flowers next to a window. He pulls one of the flowers out, puts it in the bowl, and then goes to bring it to Jevin.
Jevin was still laying on the couch just like he left him, though notably now that strange black box was making noise and emitting light. Strange moving pictures, but it didn't even seem like Jevin was watching it. Maybe the sound is making him feel better?
Black sets the bowl down on the table in front of him, Jevin turning to look at it as he sits up. A flurry of emotions came and went on Jevin's face, confusion, recognition, humor, and what even seemed to be endearment as he went to pick up the flower. He stares at it and, for what felt like the first time, Jevin smiles. He chuckles even, and the sound makes Black want to cry again, it was one of the most genuine sounds he has ever heard from his follower.
Jevin picks up the bowl, "Thank you Dear Black for this offering, I will make sure it goes to-" Jevin stops as he looks back up at Black, the smile fading from his face and replaced with concern. "... Black?"
Huh?
... Wait, why does his face feel wet?
Black reaches up to smear away whatever had been there, only coming back with white smudges staining his hand, slowly fading back into his body. As he stares at his hand, a droplet drips down into his palm, fading away soon after. Oh. He WAS crying.
Black watched as more and more white tears dripped down from his face, fading into the floor and absorbing back into his body. He kept trying to wipe them away, but it never worked. He looked up at Jevin, who was still watching with a mildly concerned expression. I'm sorry, I don't know what's happening, I've never cried before. I didn't even know I could cry.
Jevin's face softens. He scoots over some, then pats on the seat next to him. "Here, sit. Maybe you just need some time to relax, dear Black."
Oh. Okay. Black sits down next to Jevin, watching Jevin begin to eat as he stared forward at the black box. Black stares at it as well, watching whatever was being shown through his strangely wet eyes. Right. Maybe he really does just need to relax.
...
... So much information to be gleamed from that black box. A TV, Jevin said it was called, so full of knowledge and mortal entertainment, shows about wildlife, shows about the planet's history, drama and art and music and horror (Black was especially fond of horror). Safe to say, he was sat on the couch in front of the TV, resting one leg over the other.
"Something tells me that you like that TV a little too much," Jevin states, walking into the room as he clasps his cloak together. Oh, I guess you could say that. There's just so much to be gleamed about the world through this thing, it feels like I have missed so much being stuck in that shrine.
"Hm, well, I don't blame you. The world is ever spinning, always moving, people going about their days as history happens on the other side of the planet. Even for someone who lives in the moment, world events can be hard to keep up with. That being said..." Jevin puts a hand on Black's shoulder, his fingers slightly sinking into him, "Are you ready to leave, dear Black? I'm feeling much better now, and I'm sure it is about time you go and meet the others. After all, that's what all this was for, wasn't it?"
Hm. Are you sure they will be welcoming of me? Surely I look like an imposter to their eyes, just a vague representation of what a Sprunk should be.
"Nonsense, your body has formed well over the past few days. Knowing the lot of them, most won't even notice anything potentially wrong. Besides, regardless of what they think," Jevin's hand moves to just under the lip of Black's 'hat,' fingers sinking under it in a gentle petting motion, "I will still forever be your loyal follower."
Black's body frazzles for a moment at that, but he calms down right after. Yes, right, I will still always have you. Black turns the TV off and stands, holding his hand out to Jevin.
I'm ready. Lead the way, dear Jevin.
"Of course, My Lord."
Jevin takes Black's hand in his own. The village was just in the distance, not too far from here.
They begin to walk.