[ The convenient thing about being God— even here, getting smacked down by bigger squid every other day— is that one generally doesn't need to walk upstairs to investigate a mysterious thump. He has a peripheral awareness of every body in the household. When he bothers to shift his attention, he can get a sense of how dire a situation is.
Dire is a big word for a kid who isn't actively dying, but he can parse the flutter of distressed breathing, the contractions of an unhappy digestive system— the hallmarks of somebody puking and being miserable. Downstairs, God rises from the chair in his study.
A skeleton clatters along upstairs to clean the saltwater. Behind it, walking slow and calm, is God. ]
Still queasy?
[ He comes to a stop beside the curled-up little body on the floor, and there he crouches to touch a gentle hand to Kaworu's shoulder. ]
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Dire is a big word for a kid who isn't actively dying, but he can parse the flutter of distressed breathing, the contractions of an unhappy digestive system— the hallmarks of somebody puking and being miserable. Downstairs, God rises from the chair in his study.
A skeleton clatters along upstairs to clean the saltwater. Behind it, walking slow and calm, is God. ]
Still queasy?
[ He comes to a stop beside the curled-up little body on the floor, and there he crouches to touch a gentle hand to Kaworu's shoulder. ]