[If nothing else, Demyx doesn't seem inclined to shrink away from Lestat's touch anymore? The worst already seems to have happened, after all--and even that wasn't bad at all, was it? It was actually..... surprisingly nice, somehow? As long as he doesn't seriously piss the guy off, it's looking less and less likely that he'll be mauled.

Demyx laughs sheepishly instead, raising a hand to rub the back of his neck. Ask stupid questions, win stupid prizes, huh? Look, he's not from Halloweentown, or a necromancer, or whatever! This is all new territory for him. He can't reasonably be expected to know about undead biology, right? .....Right?]

I guess you're right..... Hahaha, maybe I'm actually even deader than you. Who'd ever think? Weird.

[And yet, Hades most decidedly is not the boss of him, hah. (Even if that actually might be preferable.) Demyx reaches for one of the fish on a stick abandoned by the fire; after a brush with death like this, he deserves a second helping. And whoever's dinner he's stealing, they deserve it too, for ditching him like this instead of hanging together as a group.]

Sounds like a fairy curse, if you ask me. What can't you do anymore, anyway?