Fic Update Thread 57: Varieties of Fandom Experience

[Mamorien]

Antediluvian (Soul Eater post-canon) Pt. IV: Monody, Chpt XII: Myriologue.

Cam pulled his ID out of his computer and turned from his desk. Benni watched him for a moment before her eyes flickered over his office. It was one of only a handful of times she had been in the room, as he was typically bouncing through campus in pursuit of his menagerie of responsibilities.

It was a relatively spartan space, with a tall black filing cabinet squatting in the corner, a spider plant atop it. Several imitation Hoppers – New York Movie, Chop Suey, Manhattan Bridge Loop- on the walls alongside a couple of inert 1920s WCF revolvers. An navy rug with eggshell polka dots was on the floor, a bowl of hard candy sitting on the lip of his standing desk.

Her eyes were drawn to a photo on the desktop. It was a novel thing to see in their day and age; most frames were now digital, accepting memory cards and electronic pictures and videos, people able to swap them as the need or desire arose. This particular photo was unique because it had clearly been printed some time ago. It was fading at the edges and the colors mildly distorted, but overall it appeared to have faired the years well as it sat in its frame of plain dark oak. It depicted two people, an adult and a child.

The child was smiling broadly, exposing a missing tooth as they held aloft a writhing fish at the end of a line. They wore a pink shirt depicting a giraffe, their hair done up in two high pigtails with yellow bows, and their hazel eyes glinting at the camera. The adult seemed a bit too old to be their parent. The long hair that had been tossed into a braid was more grey than blonde, smile lines accenting their lips and creasing the edges of their bog-blue eyes.

Cam must've seen her study, answering her unspoken question as he pulled on his coat. “Me and my aunt. Well, Great Aunt, technically. She practically raised me.”

Ya know, she used to be one of Lord Death's weapons. Back in the day. The only weapons he's ever personally trained, dual wielded.

“Ah.” When Benni didn't add anything else, the man kept talking. She wasn't sure why; they hadn't talked much on the way to the DWMA, aside from his shy attempts to help with her mobility. She'd graciously declined, and hadn't responded to his efforts at conversation. Perhaps this was a nervous habit of his, just now coming to light to kill the tense silence. The woman couldn't imagine why he was nervous. She wasn't angry at him. She wasn't anything at him. “Ya know, she used to be one of Lord Death's weapons. Back in the day. The only weapons he's ever personally trained, dual wielded. They were kids together. He used his body all the time, back then.”

“Right.” Maybe this was his way of filling in the gaps of her knowledge. An unspoken apology to heap on the piles of condolences and regrets he'd layered on her in the previous days. She could admit that this revelation explained how he knew about the old, forgotten, manor. And why he recognized Death before anyone else.

The reaper's mortal appearance was fairly unique. Tall, pale, impossibly dark hair with dual-cast golden eyes hosting little skulls. Benni could only assume even a child would recognize him in a lineup if he was described.

“He’s kinda like my uncle, if you think about it.” Cam kept talking, giving her a hangdog smile as he scratched at his beard. “Guess now you know what a nepo baby I am. Though there’s no favoritism. Family lost touch after my, er, grandmother, died.”

“My condolences.”

“Never knew her. Apparently she died young.”

“Right.” Cam averted his eyes.

“Listen, Dr. Haydel, about what happened-”

“No need,” she interrupted coldly. “You already apologized.”

“Yeah, but it's just, he said he would tell you so I-”

“Your loyalty is to your job. And, I guess, your family,” the witch turned to leave, expecting him to follow. “No shame in that.”

“Dr. Haydel-”

“Please just take me home.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/449614.../161152975