Sweeney shrugs. "No fuckin' clue." Silence lingers while he takes a slow drag.
"Only reason I came back was I kept fuckin' dyin'. Didn't wanna stay that way." He taps his ash. "Put in what repair work I needed to ta earn the right ta be alive." Something clicks, and he makes an amendment.
"Alive enough." Because he knows what he is here isn't the same thing.
Dorian can't help but let out a low chuckle. Alive enough indeed.
"I know I was one of the few people who were fine going back to the Barge. There were a decent amount of you lot who wanted to stay. And honestly? I don't blame you."
"Ya mean would I rather be my own man, earnin' easy coin an' spendin' it on e'ery debaucherous thing that strikes me, whene'er I want, instead of bein' trapped in a place that's constantly torturin' me by shovin' me full'a new lives while holdin' me under the threat of unmakin' me at any moment?" A beat follows.
"Whereas I happily jumped at the chance to have a roof over my head, running water, a regular food supply, climate control, and, most importantly of all, not being in fucking jail for once," he dryly responds.
"Urgh, it has to be more than 'occasional' for me," Dorian points out, with a little wrinkle of his nose. He needs exclusive access to clean shirts and they both know it.
"I still have no idea how you're fine getting so grimy at times."
"Nope," Dorian grimaces. "That's far too much for me. I was born in an expensively rich house, I live in an expensively rich house, I will die in an expensively rich house."
"B'fore or after the bein' immortal deal?" Sweeney's brow lifts in curiosity. It's one thing to come back from the dead, another to die when the deal's already been made. Devil's in the details.
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"Only reason I came back was I kept fuckin' dyin'. Didn't wanna stay that way." He taps his ash. "Put in what repair work I needed to ta earn the right ta be alive." Something clicks, and he makes an amendment.
"Alive enough." Because he knows what he is here isn't the same thing.
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"I know I was one of the few people who were fine going back to the Barge. There were a decent amount of you lot who wanted to stay. And honestly? I don't blame you."
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"Ya mean would I rather be my own man, earnin' easy coin an' spendin' it on e'ery debaucherous thing that strikes me, whene'er I want, instead of bein' trapped in a place that's constantly torturin' me by shovin' me full'a new lives while holdin' me under the threat of unmakin' me at any moment?" A beat follows.
"Yeah, tough choice, that."
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"Ya got me there." While he enjoys those things, he's spent a lot of his existence not having them.
"An' occasional access ta clean shirts," he notes with a tip of his head.
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"I still have no idea how you're fine getting so grimy at times."
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"Fuck, this shit is nothin'. I did live in the fuckin' trees." For at that time I was lost in my madness.
"They don't call us Men of the Mounds ironically."
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"Yer plannin' ta get around ta dyin' at some point?" Isn't being immortal one of his things?
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"Was it intentional? Or that Devil fuck you?"
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"Intentional. I killed myself."