milliways_bar | (no subject)

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He's by the fireplace today on one of those very comfortable armchairs. His feet are crossed up on the coffee table and there's a copy of the Times open over his face. The tool of his trade is resting against the chair back, in easy reach for when he gets up.

It's a very odd position to find a skeleton in, but this is Milliways, after all.

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Well, this ought to be the king of all coincidences, or perhaps not. It's not every day that you see Death, or at least not in the personification form, but if so...one should take advantage of the perks of being able to speak to him. What are those? Well, if you can't get information from the man who has seen it all - literally - then who can you? And, well, wouldn't you know it? Spider DOES have something on his mind... The swarthy gentleman god-fellow steps over to where Death is.

"Just to be sure, you are Death, right? The Grim Reaper and not some sort of creature that merely takes the form of Death?

Hey, in Milliways, you never know. His senses told him it was Death Incarnate, but it's always good to be sure about it.

Death lifts the paper from his face and examines the god for a second, before giving a polite nod.

I am Death, he confirms.

"Right then... Perhaps you can help me with a certain curiosity."

Now, how should he put this...? You come and find yourself staring Death in the eye - or glowing socket - and you know you have to get this right.

"Before I came in here, I'd been informed that my father had died. This would be everyday normal circumstances, except for two things. The first is the easiest one, namely that gods don't suddenly keel over for no reason. And second...I can't even begin to imagine what he'd die of."

His father had, in fact, died at karaoke, falling forward into a woman's breasts.

"So, what DID he die of? Anansi, I mean?"

Gods die all the time, Death explains in tones of one who know. But he tilts his skull, examinign Spider.

Your father was not one under my care, however. Different worlds, different deaths.

Well, this was actually news to Spider, who'd been all god-like for less than the span of a human lifetime, so he wasn't aware of that. However, he was a knowledgeable sort, so he had to ask...

"Oh? Is there a union organizing different Deaths? Which one are you?"

We don't need a union, Death explains. We represent ourselves

Neverminding the fact that he hadn't answered the question of origins, Spider's mind suddenly raced on the thoughts of why there would be an advantage to having a Reaper's Association (Ltd.).

"Oh, I can see why that'd be. No need for perks or anything, of course. You're Death, and Death just is."

Then a grin flashed across his face...

"But still... I mean, you might want to get SOME representation. You've got bad rep, most of the time. Nobody's ever glad to see that they're dead, they think it's unfair, and you've got all of eternity to hear about it. At the very least, you should be able to have them go yak off someone else's ear - or whatever equivalent you use - while you just get to do what you do without a hassle."

This is going to lead to trouble, you know...

No all eternity, Death corrects, but for someone without intonation or facial muscles, he's giving quite a strong impression of thoughtful interest.

Few people are pleased to see me, it's true

Hmmm. Perhaps 'forever' isn't as big as that. Spider shrugs that off. After all, he's comparatively-young. The god-son takes a seat nearby, so as not to continue to lurk like a vulture.

"The trouble is that it would take a god to see that dying is inevitable, so naturally, alot of 'em are upset. How do they normally handle it where you operate?"

They are often upset, at first Death admits. The ones who are surprised.

"And of course, you being the last person they ever wanted to see, they take out their frustrations on you, I take it."

Spider then looks around, getting an idea.

"Have you ever considered taking them here? I think if it's one thing the recently-deceased would need, it'd be a good stiff drink to get over the rougher part of being dead. Dead people come here all the time and they can apparently drink and eat without having the problem of being totally ethereal and intangiable. It might take a load off of their minds."

I am not in charge of where they go, Death explains. I just set bring them through. What happens next is up to them.

"And if they don't want to go?"

Fair question.

What they want isn't any concern of mine.

"True, since being dead sort of narrows the options, but that doesn't mean you have to put up with their tirade against being that way. I mean, is there anything that gets on the equivalent of your nerves?"

Considering what he does for a 'living', there probably is.

Cruelty to cats, Death says. That really makes me angry.

Not exactly what he had in mind for an answer, but Spider thinks on that a second. The impression he was getting was that Death seemed hellbent on doing what he does and not worrying too much about the seemingly endless complaints from people who are dead. But cats...

"Can't argue with that one. So I guess, aside from things like that, ya can't complain?"

No, Death agrees.

There's no one to complain to.

This brings pause to Spider. No one? He's just the civil servant of the passed on and there's nobody to speak to on high about things? That's a lousy gig. Then again...

"Fair enough. Can't say I've got anyone to complain to either. 'To whom to the gods pray?', and such. What's it like, taking away a dead god? Any better than regular people?"

Usually they're angrier, Death remarks. They seem to think it's not supposed to happen to them.

"That's probably 'cause there's nothing to contradict them. When you're a god, the first thing you realize is that gods are mightier than mere man or beast. Power, influence, and no determinate age. My dad dying was very much a surprise, especially since I didn't sense it, which is why I'm trying to figure out how it was done. That's the other thing, of course. It's not a mortal body that expires, but keeps going. There's plenty of reasons to think that, and who - besides you - is gonna tell a god that they're finite? That's the sort of talk that brings about the thunderbolts."

Nevertheless, Death keeps on. I come for everyone.

"Everything ends..."

He thought about that for a moment.

"Do you end?"

He chose his words carefully, known that speaking of the Grim Reaper as a being who expires like your everyday bag of flesh is silly.

I am the end.

He's annoying like that.

Only when everything has died will I be no longer.

That's a LONG time... Spider whistles, impressed by the meaning of that statement. Getting off that deeply-meaningful moment, he jumps topic somewhat.

"By the by, have you seen any other Deaths around lately?"

Such as perhaps a pale young woman wearing an ankh?

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no_justice - 2007-08-24 07:20 (UTC) - Expand

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brotherspider - 2007-08-24 19:46 (UTC) - Expand

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