Puppeteer (Old)

I Meet The Dead

I never expected to be in heaven, or whatever this is. 

My ivory dress is splattered with dust and grime, and the air is the same as before, though now rings with the scent of metal. I fight the urge to cough out the imperfections in the oxygen and instead focus on the party heading towards us, to the east. About...one, two, five people. Two are very similar looking, with brown hair of different lengths and a small lolita dress. Further details are unrecognizable due to distance, but my best guess is that they're twins. As for the other, his cloth dress thing sums up everything about him. Sorry, I'm stereotypical. Welcome to America. Er, heaven.

What?

"That group ails eastern. Osiris originates from Egypt, while the girls are from far-out Japan. Took them long enough," says Percy.

"History lesson?" I ask, knowing very well it isn't. "Osiris is the Egyptian god of the underworld, right? Dark name."

"Indeed, it matches quite well with his gift. Luck of the draw, eh?"

"Stop talking like a freaking British guy. It's creepy."

"You'll live, my lady."

I huff, and catch Kuro looking at me. She just shrugs and raises her eyebrow at Percy. "Close?" You're close enough with Sabra, sarcastic shadow, I think, then immediately feel bad.

"Met today," I answer, realizing how easy it was to fit myself in with this Puppet (I'm sorry Percy, living matter). 

"So you know about us all then," says Percy, making me jump. Curse this fancy-talking mind reader. "Yes, Puppet is the technical term, but as I've said before, Rose, I can breathe. Do not take my living state lightly."

Unfamiliar languages float towards me, making me furrow my brow. I distinguish the sentence structure easily enough, but that doesn't really help since I can't understand a word of it. "Watashi wa mae no mo itta you ni, namae wa Yura to Raon desu." Japanese?

"'ana la 'atahaddath alyabaiat." Oh, my. How the hell am I suppose to understand this???

Someone clears their throat, and I turn to spot one person I didn't pay much mind to. He wears simple clothing, khakis and a shirt, but his expression is anything but simple. I can't even read it.

"Oroboros is wishing for a strawberry," says a twinkly voice with a distinct accent, one of the twins. "Yes, perhaps the Creator will grace him with such delicacy. Something from Michigan, perhaps," says the other. 

Ah, lovely English. I will never question you again. "Oroboros?"

"The Puppet that watches over Raon and Yura. Designed to bring out their abilities quickly." Know it all.

"Thank you for the flattery, Rose."

"I hate you."

"Rash emotions are not advisory. Lucky for me, I'm not made of silver, so your water will do nothing. Tarnishing is such a terrible thing, I do not wish to be put under such pain, I said, so therefore I was crafted from dark matter itself. Impressive, isn't it?"

"Since when are you so talky?"

"Since I'd decided that you are worthy of my information."

Still, he gave me something to think about. So the material a Puppet is crafted from determines its weaknesses and wear? I swear, get out of my head, Percy. Or I'll summon a black hole to suck up all your dark matter.

"Uh, Rosewater. Why's that tan guy staring at me?" Kuro grabs my shoulders and ducks behind me, forcing me to take notice of Mr. Egypt-cloth-dress-pervert. Yeah, I see that look on your face, man. Better not try sizing me up, idiot. There's a mouthful of scalding water waiting to be choked on. Did I really just use her threat? Wr-no, stop.