"Makes me feel sick," Sloth said. "Once I came back like, this was like forty years ago, and they'd already embalmed me and I was just heaving for hours. Couldn't get the taste out of my mouth for days. I always die of like, drugs and shit. I'm not- I don't like violent." She shuddered. Did the mortal girl care to hear all this? Maybe, maybe not. Did she care? No. "I'm still not over Envy shooting his fucking head open right in front of me. Fucking arsehole. I should text him." She pulled out her phone to check her messages.