[...well, that's sincerely a surprise but holy shit, what kind of afterlife would that be? or would it not exist, either? klaus's had far too many close-calls with death to have not eventually run into that particular deity, albeit during a party, so it wasn't like he'd planned for them to meet. for a long moment, he's distracted with studying v's expression, seeking out even the slightest hint of distaste, although he finds none. the guy's either got the best pokerface he's ever seen or v's genuinely interested and he's unsure which is worse.
at least in stories, ghosts never woke him up in the middle of the night. the reality's entirely different; having a spirit shouting his name, looking just as they did when they'd died? it's a whole different feeling altogether. one he tries to avoid as often as possible.]
Not always, no. [albeit with blatant reluctance, he draws his hand away, turns and reaches into his coat-pocket on the left side, withdraws a flask that he sets up between them. then he props his elbows onto the table, steeples his fingers together, rests the index digits against his chin.] Only when I'm sober.
no subject
at least in stories, ghosts never woke him up in the middle of the night. the reality's entirely different; having a spirit shouting his name, looking just as they did when they'd died? it's a whole different feeling altogether. one he tries to avoid as often as possible.]
Not always, no. [albeit with blatant reluctance, he draws his hand away, turns and reaches into his coat-pocket on the left side, withdraws a flask that he sets up between them. then he props his elbows onto the table, steeples his fingers together, rests the index digits against his chin.] Only when I'm sober.