bread_goes_bip | (no subject)

(no subject)

[In the end, there wasn't anything Death could do about this event. But there's something she can do now, so she picks up the phone.]

Hi everyone, it's Death. If you need someone to talk to... I'm really good at listening.

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Funny. You don't sound like the one I know.

Oh, have you met the other one? Skeleton with a scythe?

Not exactly. Though you can see some of her bones in her rotted half, I wouldn't call her a skeleton. And she'd never touch a scythe, why would a queen need it?

[Death pauses to run through the various death gods she's familiar with]

You mean... Hel?

That`s right. You`re doing a pretty poor imitation, if you ask me. Try sounding haughtier.

I'm not her. I outgrew my cold hearted bitch phase a long time ago.

Then who are you? And how many people named Death are running around, anyway?

Here? Just the two of us, as far as I know. I'm not a goddess, I'm Death itself.

Well, most of the time.

"Death itself." That's quite a claim to make. I've never heard of anything like it.

I'd ask you to prove it, but being here makes that difficult, doesn't it?

Really, there's only one way to prove it. And then it's a little late.

Besides, death doesn't last long in Mayfield. I don't know if it's even possible to die permanently. Does that make you obsolete here?

I'm not exactly pleased with that situation.

Can't imagine you would be. I'm not too happy, either. This place is set up to keep everything tightly ordered. For someone like me, it's...annoying.

Life doesn't tend to fit as neatly as the town would like it to.

Not if I have anything to say about it. You have to wonder why people regain abilities like mine if the town really intends to keep us completely under its thumb.

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