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Taako hadn’t expected an ethereally handsome agent of death to be waiting up for him. However, these days he had more or less learned to accept the inevitability of weird-ass shit and roll with it.
"You boys have added quite a bit to your death tolls, haven’t you?"
Taako eyed the reaper warily.
The being in front of him looked almost human, but up close, his eyes were… weirdly bright. Though his tone wasn’t particularly threatening, nothing about this situation inspired peace of mind, either.
Wow, he thought, it had been a while, hadn't it? A while since he'd been this close to someone other than Tweedle-Dwarf and Tweedle-Awful-Fucking-Facial-Hair.
"... That one's on me," he said, finally finding his voice after a long, long moment of staring and being stared at and feeling his pulse do funny things that had nothing to do with fear.
A few minutes later, and the two were sitting in his kitchenette, deciding the fate of a thousand souls over herbal tea.
"This is delicious," said Kravitz. He sounded earnestly pleased. His scythe sat propped against the table (he’d politely declined an invitation to use the umbrella stand).
"Thanks," Taako said, topping him off.
"It's just a little recipe I picked up from my auntie. She loved tea, but she always used refined sugar—fucks up the bouquet of the blend. I prefer a touch of agave nectar, personally.”
Taako leaned back and took a sip.
“Auntie didn’t know shit.”
Kravitz placed his cup in its saucer with a gentle clink.
Uh oh, thought Taako, back to business.
“I realize circumstances were out of your control this time, and I'm prepared to try to be understanding of your whole..." Kravitz waved a hand in the air, "Situation.”
Taako sipped his tea, listening.
“But… It's not really my call in the end, you understand.”
Taako swallowed, then kicked his feet up on the table.
"Oh no, I getcha one-hundo-percent, my dude," he said.
Kravitz looked doubtful.
“Hey, I have a job, too,” Taako said, “I get it. Can’t be disappointing the boss. Yours is the, uh, Raven Queen, right?”
“Ah—yes,” Kravitz answered.
Taako nodded, setting his cup on the table.
“So what's your steez, my dude?”
Kravitz cocked an eyebrow.
“My... steez,” he echoed.
“Yeah, man. How'd you come by this profession? Was there an audition, a soul-reaping workshop...?"
A wry smile tugged at the corner of Kravitz’s mouth.
“Taako, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to change the subject.”
Taako put his hands up in surrender.
“Ah, well, you know, maybe a little bit. I’ll admit, not a big fan of all this negotiating about whether me and my friends get our soul cards revoked or whatever.”
Kravitz chuckled.
“But,” Taako continued, “maybe there’s some genuine interest up in the mix, too.”
Kravitz’s smile faltered. He took a pensive sip of tea as though to mask it.
“This has been one of the, ah, more pleasant professional negotiations I’ve had,” he said after a short pause.
“I bet,” Taako interjected. How many people were actually happy to see the Grim Reaper, after all?
“…But I think we should continue this some other time.”
“Oh fuck, YES!” Taako exclaimed, eliciting a deeply confused expression from Kravitz.
“Look, don’t get me wrong: loved this,” Taako said, “But I kinda just got back from the longest, most dying-est day of my life, and I’m really craving my sweet, sweet, duvet right about now.”
Kravitz smiled faintly.
“Hm. How very inconvenient for you. I suppose we wouldn’t want to keep you up, would we? We really will need to continue this, though. As soon as possible.”
“Oh, for sure,” Taako said, “Listen—What’s your Tuesday look like?”
“Uh, well, soul collecting is an unpredictable game, but... I can probably squeeze you in.”
“Cool. One sec,” Taako stood and ambled toward the counter. After rummaging around in his junk drawer for a moment, he produced an ovoid, palm-sized stone.
“Here, take this,” he said, sliding it across the table. “And, uh, you know, just give me a holler.”
Kravitz inspected the Stone of Far Speech, an inscrutable expression on his face. He stood.
“I will plead your case,” he said, “But you have to understand, giving the big ol’ middle finger to death itself, as it were, is not something that can be easily brushed aside.”
Taako nodded.
“Trust me, we’re on the same page.”
Kravitz tucked the stone in his vest pocket, still eyeing Taako.
“May I ask a question?”
“Shoot.”
“Are you even intimidated by me at all?”
Taako blanched ever so slightly.
“Hmmmm...”
He drew the mug to his lips and sipped.
“Loaded question,” he muttered.
“I’m guessing the answer is no.”
“I would say… Thaaaat… I think you’re interesting,” Taako offered.
Kravitz eyed him steadily.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Be my guest.”
“Why’d you pick this stooge to negotiate with? Why not Magnus or Merle?”
Kravitz grinned.
“Same reason.”
At that moment, Kravitz snapped his fingers, and two things happened at once.
First, black smoke swept across the tile floor of the kitchen as though summoned by some artificial wind. It gathered around him, starting at his feet before spreading to conceal his torso. The flesh of his face flickered out of sight like a hologram. Two piercingly bright eyes peered at Taako from the sockets of a skull before they, too, were swallowed up by the darkness.
As a bonus, the dishes did themselves.
Then, in a blink, Kravitz was gone. Taako whistled appreciatively to an empty room.
“Well,” he grumbled to himself, “Now I have a boner.”