#itneedsbutone

[cursedfortune]

Zamasu's dripping fingers hover over her, outstretched and completely eclipsing any light the cloud baked sky had drizzled from above. "I don't see a splinter but I feel it."

@itneedsbutone

An involuntary flinch jolted her body which only led to a momentary displeasure being displayed on her face. It was frustrating how he could provoke an immediate fight or flight response with the simplest movement of his hand nearing her. Of course she wasn't foolish, she knew why her body moved despite her soul being unyielding within. She lost count of the days they spent tormenting one another. Of her driving him mad with words and him torturing her ever healing body.

Still, she bristled beneath his outstretched limb in silence for a long moment - collecting herself before focusing upon what the god had said to her.

A splinter? She could see how it could find its way into his ever decaying hand. One that dripped malformed flesh directly upon her. He's lucky she is a witch of entropy, used to death and all its stages - or else it's likely she'd be retching upon his boots this very moment. Instead the witch doesn't bat an eye to Zamasu's excess, only wipes away whatever pieces land upon her face.

"You better be nice to me the rest of the day, at least." Mortem murmured as she reached up and took his hand, lowering it just below her eye level. Funny how gently she holds this limb of his, one that has crushed her skull and shattered her bones numerous times. Old habits die hard, her mother would say - she understood that better than she once used to when the two of them have moments like this. Something more mundane it was almost pleasant compared to their usual war dance. When her natural inclination to be gentle just happened even with someone like him. To think she'd live in a universe where the only form of touch she'd engaged in with another would consist of either violence or aiding his body that was partially a corpse. At least he had moments of awareness, it was his brief clarity that allowed her to not sincerely antagonize him. What a fucked up pair they are.

Well he's right, there's nothing to see upon the surface even with his morphing flesh. Guess it's time to dig deeper then, no? There's a tug at the corner of her mouth as her lips quirked into a smirk, giving Zamasu no warning as her hands easily sank into his oozing flesh in search of the problem. Her entropy parting the meat easily, seeking to cause as little disturbance as she could and yet completely thriving off what was likely uncomfortable - both in sensation and visually to witness.

"Bet you never thought we'd get intimate like this, hm? Holding hands." Mortem's lips pressed together, as if to suppress her own amusement as she teased him. It would not last, with a little pop of her lips a grin broke out, just in time for her fingers to curl around the offending object.

Pulling her hands from his she revealed the broken rebar, covered in purple tinted flesh (much like her lower arms). With a toss she sent the piece flying, where it landed with a clang upon a nearby pile of rubble within this broken city. One in ruins because if him.

Yet here they were, two near-immortals behaving themselves for once. This was a good look for him compared to the usual rage and glee he got from tormenting her. At least she wasn't the splinter this time. Problem solved, right? He'll hopefully be lacking homicidal urges until tomorrow. She doesn't care if he sticks around or goes so long as he isn't making a mess out of her.

Speaking of... Wiping off her arms the witch lifted her gaze to his, "Now that I've finished inside you I'm going to go clean myself up. Bye!" Mortem flicked some of the purple flesh at him before she turned to saunter off to the nearest clean water source.

At least she wasn't being mean even if she had purposely spoken such sin to him directly.