"Well if he can reneg on ideas or keepin' people alive, I'd say we're already half in the shit but since there's nothin' much we can do about it.." He bobs his head. "Might as well keep on trucking, right?"
He laughs. "I fucking disintegrated, don't think there was any need for burial. As for white lights and the soft crooning of devils - nah. I've seen a couple of afterlives, but I didn't sign up. Not that I signed up for all this."
"Well," he says with half a laugh, eyebrows bouncing. "That does save on cost. Ah well, I figure there's no harm in askin', right? Closest I've come to dyin' is a head wound. Bullet graze. Much less dramatic and not a single white light."
Raylan's lips turn down, but it's less a frown and more of a facial shrug. "Honestly, I expected more. But nope - darkness then a very blurry view of the world before my car was stolen from right behind me. It makes me more confident in my view that there's nothin' once we die. That and I haven't heard any stories to the contrary."
He'd asked too.
The dryer beeped loudly and Raylan hopped down from his spot with a little bounce.
"Far be it from me to point out the big flaw in that line of thinking. The one that comes before how this place in general might make someone reconsider whether or not there's an afterlife."
"Oh, I'm sure there isn't. I've thought about it a lot; mostly while starin' at my own headstone in my front yard. All the stories that are peddled are bullshit bedtime stories to help people deal with their own fear of it. Doesn't stop it from catchin' up to us in the end and once we're gone.." Raylan shrugs as he opens the dryer.
Raylan laughed a little as he started pulling his jeans, flannel and henley's out of the dryer and into . "That's the easiest way to handle it, I'll grant ya that. Most people that I've talked to about it can't quite manage to do that without sort of.. eating themselves from the inside out or imploding. Metaphorically speaking. Which leads to more literal disfunctions. They spend too much time worryin' about what's comin' to pay full attention to what's happening around them."
He slid a friendly glance over. "Clearly not a problem you have."
Fitz shrugs, grinning. "Obviously, part of that is just my natural cool. And it'd get embarrassing to be all obsessed with it after you've died a couple times. I just find other means to try to avoid paying full attention to what's happening around me, as that's usually also pretty awful."
"I say we all deserve a three month long vacation on an actual hospitable island where we can get drinks with umbrellas in them and think about gettin' sunburnt. It'd improve everyone's mood by at least forty five percent. Hey, this has been a pleasure, but me and my laundry are gonna fuck off and leave you to it, huh?"
He liked leaving things on high notes, as high as they ever got with Fitz, anyway.
"Perhaps, luckily, most of the time not getting what we deserve is a good thing. It can balance out the rest a bit." He waves Raylan off. "Have fun. I'm sure we won't be able to escape meeting again forever. Give or take death and disappearance."
It's is always nice to leave on a cheerful thought.
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He'd asked too.
The dryer beeped loudly and Raylan hopped down from his spot with a little bounce.
"It's not somethin' I'm lookin' to test again."
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"I'm fine with bein' worm food."
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He slid a friendly glance over. "Clearly not a problem you have."
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He liked leaving things on high notes, as high as they ever got with Fitz, anyway.
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It's is always nice to leave on a cheerful thought.