It was a busy day in the center of Evermore, but for him, the world stood still: the crowds were quiet, the wind ceased to whistle, and Caleb Segal was in stasis. It didn’t matter where he traveled, it seemed like whenever he stopped at the foot of a church no time had passed. It had been thirteen years since his mother's funeral and despite leaving and returning to Paris many times, he hadn't once stepped foot into the Sacré-Coeur. This tiny chapel was humble in comparison, but somehow that made this easier. He had enough looming in front of him to not need his past staring him in the face. Winter leaves had frozen solid on top of the ground, but he didn't much mind the cold. He was used to it. Truthfully, he hadn't really warmed up since the day the news came. Everything felt numb: his hands, his heart, his sense of time. The petals of the early blooming February daffodils on these graves was proof enough that he was wrong.  It had been two weeks since he first arrived in Evermore and one since he discovered this tiny hideaway filled with history. Even seven days ago, there had been no bright colored flowers to cheer up all of the gray. Caleb dropped to a knee in front of the unmarked grave, running his fingers over the rough stone. Soldiers were all alike, weren't they? Bravely putting the lives of others in front of everyone else. 

Goddamnit. Why did you have to be so honorable? I've got needs. I need you, Ava.

He squeezed his fingers into a fist, until his knuckles turned white.

Was it terribly wicked to wish the island she'd vanished on had been pulled under in a storm if only she had come home safe? There was a lot of things he'd sacrifice to see Ava again, including some of his own morality. Caleb carefully placed the ribbon tied bouquet on the cold earth. It was lavender sprigs, baby's breath, and orchids. Her favorites. Underneath the fresh flowers were the wilted ones from a few days ago. The rest was dirt covering an old coffin holding someone else bones. Her body was lost in the depths of the Indian Ocean.

Maybe you're alive. Maybe --

Caleb broke his gaze from the grave, blinking up at the sky, begging himself not to cry. There was no one else here, like always, but if he started he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold himself together.

I hope it’s actually blue. [ the ocean] People always lie about that. It’s brown, just like dirt. The only blue left is the sky. I don't know why she had to love it so much.

Caleb squinted up at the clouds. He hated the unsettledness, the anger, the frustration. So much of it welled up inside him, unbound, with nowhere to go. Ava was one of only a few people who hadn’t given up on him very soon after coming into his life. If anything, she had become his personal cheerleader. 

He sniffed and pushed his hands into his pockets, a whisper of something on his tongue. "Je t'aime tellement, Ava Mitchell. Ne m'oublie pas, oui? Don't forget." 

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The Aspect of Death cringed slightly. Even since childhood Erythreus had a huge dislike towards breakfast, and that hadn't seemed to change in today's time. The Aspect glanced down to Caleb's eggs as he stabbed them with his fork, shaking his head slightly at the knots slowly forming in his stomach. Perhaps the old Aspect of Death had more mundane qualities than he assumed. 

The way Caleb sounded his name out, pulled Erythreus back to the here and now, distracting him from the smell of breakfast. He couldn't help but chuckle, it seemed as though Caleb had studied his name just then as he tried saying it. He understood the issue though, this wouldn't be the first nor last time that someone struggled to say his name properly. "It's okay, I get that a lot. Im really not even sure of my name's origin.." he admitted, giving the human a sheepish grin. Ery ran his hand through his hair in a feeble attempt to smooth some of it back down. It looked as though he had partied like a wild man, when truth be told, liquor barely phased him these days.. and did very little when it came to getting him drunk. Erythreus drank simply out of habit, and when he did want a buzz, he put in a lot of effort, and spent quite a bit to get enough alcohol to get the job done. 

The Aspect of Death smiled again when Caleb asked if he could just call him Ery, nodding slightly to say yes. "I don't mind at all. After I can spend a little more time around you, i'm sure you'll get a shorter name or nickname in general.. if i'd pick one now, it'd onlybe based off your emotions since that's the majority of what ive seen from you.. Blue." he stated bluntly, feeling slightly bad for having even called him Blue. But, ever since he'd met Caleb, the human had seemed to be in a really dark state of mind, almost miserable. It definitely bummed Erythreus out to see people in this shape, but there was nothing he could do other than be a friend to the man next to him, and he'd do his best at that. 

Erythreus chuckled when Caleb said he couldn't remember much before he gestured to the pup as it being evidence of last nights events. His question caused Erythreus to chuckle a little more, quirking a brow before he parted his lips to speak on it. "It's the one place that I can go and not feel so ... alone. I feel more myself in a cemetery than I do in this manor. I love my siblings here.. but I'm .. different.." he tried his best to explain it without sounding crazy. "The graveyards offer a certain solitude while at the same time, solace. I know solitude and solace usually don't match, but in this case, for me.. it does." he wanted to explain a little further by telling Caleb he could communicate with the dead without alarming the human, but he decided to wait just for that reason. He wasn't sure what Caleb knew and what he didn't, but he was pretty sure with how much he was in the manor, that he knew enough. "Soo.. being here in the manor like you are.. what all do you know about the people who stay here?" he decided to ask at least that question. 

As Caleb went and grabbed himself a blanket, Erythreus leaned forward and scooped the puppy up, setting down in a seat beside of Caleb, allowing the dog to sit on his lap. 

"Soo, what do you think about the name Chance?" he asked curiously and began petting the dog gently, quirking a brow as it nipped at his fingers every time he'd try to stop petting it. 

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