d1 // death the kid [fin.]

If the lamplight of connected souls
points toward your heart

"I'm garbage!" He cried, bent over, knees to the ground, fists balled up, pressed to the polished tiles. "Garbage! Asymmetrical garbage!" He cried once more, slamming a fist into the tiles. Liz sighed heavily, before glaring down at her young master as he wept. Patti laughed, she always found it amusing, she was always the one laughing, kneeling down beside Kid before slapping him on the back, reminding him jut how much a piece of garbage he was. Then Liz would get down and she smile, forcing some level of sympathy and cheerfulness into her tone an actions. The day usually ended up like this once or twice, with Kid on the ground, standing up, one way or another admitting to the world with strangled cries that he was a failure an asymmetrical failure at that.

Today, however, the tantrum had occurred after a vase had fallen from the table on the left side of the room. It had been an accident on Patti's behalf, slipping back and knocking it. As the vase shattered so did Kid's mind. The perfect symmetry that he had created in his room was broken. The vase on the other side of the room remained standing, and the exactness of each side of his room was broken. He was obsessed with symmetry, everything had to be exact and perfect. And his room no longer was.

Liz and Patti dealt with this on a daily basis. Liz moved forward, to the opposite side of Kid, Patti was already kneeling down and Liz followed suit. She moved beside the weeping figure and took a knee. "I'm garbage! How could father ever depend on me when I'm such a failure." He cried, slamming a fist down once more. Liz patted his back, "it's okay Kid! You're not garbage, your dad loves you!" She said, words the same general clutter, the some constant reassurance he always seemed to need. "Yeah, Kid your dad still loves you, even with the tattoos on one arm your sti-"

"Exactly! I'm garbage! Look at me, I'm not even symmetrical."

"Kid! Come on your fine Kid! You've gone three years without thinking about it too much, it's fine, the rooms fine, we'll get a new vase!" Liz said, gently patting his back.

Patti on the other hand slapped his back, raising her hand upwards before bringing it down in a manner that would probably leave a bruise, the entire time she laughed. She always found this far too funny. "It's okay, I'll break the other vase and the room will be symmetrical again." She offered, standing up, ready to destroy more.

Kid looked up sharply, dark eyes landing on Patti, then he stood up, and grabbed her arm. "You take that back, Patti-"

"Kid! Come on, we'll go get another vase, there's no need for this." Liz cried, grabbing Kid's other arm. Kid seemed to hesitate for a second, before letting her arm go, and reaching upwards to run a hand through his black hair. His face had turned delay serious, and he spun, tugging his jacket around his body tightly.

Let's go get another vase then. I can't bare to look at this room." His steps faltered, and for a moment the two girls were sure he was going to break down once more, but he regained his composure and walked out, it seemed that each step required much more effort then it should have, as though he had to force it upon himself to leave behind the mess, the tiny break in the symmetry an perfection of his room. Liz sighed, before grabbing Patti's arm, she tugged her younger sister out, behind Kid, determined to make sure she wouldn't damage another thing.

---

His father is the grim reaper.

He is the lord of death, the leader of our gang. Being the son of the most powerful man in the gang has it's draw backs, but also its highs. They call him Death the Kid, or Kid for short, he often wonder what was going through his father's head when he decided upon such a name. Couldn't he have found something a little bit more symmetrical? It could have been so beautiful, it could have been the name of a god, but instead he ended up with this, not even the slightest resemblance of symmetry. Asymmetrical garbage. He is the heir to the gang, it's future leader, he is supposed to be as strong and brave and powerful as my father and he will be, don't you doubt him on that.

"Liz! Patti! Let's head off." He called, sweeping a hand through his dark hair as he headed out. Stopping by the set of draws to the left side of the hallway he pulled the top draw open. In it sits a pistol, manufactured and created by his father. Leather intwines itself around the clip, and an intricate design twists up, all the way across the tiny barrel. He slid it into the holster at his hip and then he walked to the opposite side of the hall, a draw identical to the one that sat opposite to it sat there. He opened it to reveal a pistol that looked exactly the same as the one in the holster at his hip. He pulled it out and put it into the other holster.

It's one of the only four within the entire gang. Most people had their own weapon, his father wield a scythe, some wielded swords, other's used gloves or spears. Kid, Patti and Liz were the only ones who used live arms, it was their signature weapon. Kid was noticeable to anyone in the gang, he always had his weapons, but if you couldn't tell who he was by that you knew instantly by the fact that he was always shadowed by Liz and Patti, his partner's, the people he fought with in any fight. It was one of the rules of the gang, you always went with a partner, you never went in alone. He needed two, though, there was just no symmetry to having one person standing beside you. So he had found the girls on the streets and offered them a position.

The day he took over from his father as leader of the gang they'd be by his side.

Can you hear a resonance
stronger than words now?