InsaneJournal

Who: Desire, Delirium, Death.
What: The Endless mortals get together for a pity party and possibly some pancakes. HA ALLITERATION.
When: Late afternoon.



Desire was six kinds of uncomfortable. It--currently a him, in this mortal form--was sitting on the steps of Harrod's, where he knew Delirium would be at some point or another. His head was resting against the wall of the entrance alcove as he stared at the people walking by, waiting for one or the other of his sisters.

God, how embarrassing. Delirium was a cheap facsimile of him, he couldn't get into the Threshold, and he felt all around...ugly. In reality he wasn't any less beautiful than usual, but anyone who knew him would be able to tell the difference right away. His cheeks were flushed, for one, his skin a healthy, normal (disgusting) sort of pink. And he looked all around vulnerable, strange and fragile instead of strong and composed. He was miserable. People were walking by him without so much as a second glance. He wanted to go home. And he was cold. Cold! Of all the indignities that could have been visited on him, this was by far the worst.