[ ... ] CREATURES OF FOLKLORE . . .

“Hm… Sorry - I seem to be boring you. Just trying to cover the fundamentals before getting to the fun stuff,” Willow smiles, apologetic. “If you were a mortal and remembered such I thought it’d be pointless to ask how you feel about mortals, if you have feelings about them at all. Do you feel sympathy for the souls you collect, or are you desensitised to it by now?”

#deciding that this thread takes place after the games bad end :))))#unpossession #❝ 𝖎𝖓 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 . ❞ — grim .

THIS QUESTION GIVES HIM PAUSE. Like a fresh wound poked. His eyes fall to the ground for a moment, his posture deflates. Had he been asked this question weeks before, he would have replied very differently… He remembers himself and clears his throat.

“ I suppose it depends. It’s a job — at the end of the day. I have reaped over eight thousand souls since my contract started, and there are some days that I feel more bored and inconvenienced than actually moved or sympathetic… but there are always outliers… ” It’s dark work, and not even he can fully compartmentalize the melancholy, “ Children are the hardest, although I suppose that could have been guessed. Those who are alone with no one to mourn… I suppose, on a case by case basis, sometimes I feel compelled to carry some of that with me. Entirely unhealthy, of course. ”

She hears it too. Willow’s ears perk up and she turns her head to watch the chaos — but quickly turns back to watch him. Doesn’t want him to disappear on her while her back is turned! Quickly back to business, unphased by the death, she tilts her head to the side.

“How’d you get into the business?”

“ I WAS CREATED FOR IT, ” Grim looks progressively more and more bored, arms crossed over his chest, eyes half lidded and gaze turned somewhere else. These are all such tiresome questions, asking too much or are simply too predictable.

“ Although, I’m not exactly sure how that process came to be. I’m not sure if I was created out of thin air, or if I was once a mortal — that information is classified for even me — but what I do know is that I was molded for this job. My soul purpose for living is to reap and ferry souls. ”

She’s used to cagey interviewees; Zero also didn’t want to hand out his name. Willow won’t press the subject, only pulls out her phone and holds it to her ear as he suggests. She’s been seen talking to Theo too many times, she doesn’t want to get a reputation as the weird bird girl.

“So you appear as a raven to normal people?” This obviously hadn’t been on her agenda before, but her curiosity gets the better of her. Depending on how patient he’s feeling (and honestly, she did get the vibe that maybe he’s not as patient as he initially seemed) she might only get a few more questions before he decides to walk away - she doesn’t want to squander her time. “I like that.”

GRIM SMILES. “ I can appear as whatever I want to mortals, or nothing at all. My choice. A raven was simply the most suitable for today. The elderly woman who’s soul I reaped today was feeding the birds in the park a few blocks back. ”

And if his hearing serves him right, said old lady was only just discovered by bystanders as not breathing. He shrugs.

“ Anything else? ”

#❝ 𝖛𝖎𝖘𝖆𝖌𝖊 . ❞ — grim .#FUCKIGN FERAL FOR HIM!!!!!!!

im COMICALLY down bad for this stupid white haired anime babygirl

natkidding

Trying to draw again, my unfortunate test subject

#❝ 𝖛𝖎𝖘𝖆𝖌𝖊 . ❞ — grim .#my god.

"Really? Oh my God. Thank you!" The look of sheer childlike excitement on Willow's face needs to be studied by scientists. Absolutely beaming, she immediately pulls out a notebook and a pen, opening to an empty page and dating it. "I— God. You have no idea. Okay, well, first of all - what’s your name? Like, you said you’re the Grim Reaper, Death, etcetera - but do you have a personal name? If there are others like you, y’know. It seems hard to differentiate — and what does me taking to you look like to normal people? Do I need to pretend to be on the phone or something?”

AH, THE NAME QUESTION. Easy enough to dodge, but nearly always comes with some sort of backlash. He pushes hair behind his ear, then remembers himself and how much he detests kinks in his perfect hair, and pulls it back from once he pushed it.

“ I do have a personal name, all Reapers do, ” he bites back a mean spirited comment, instead deciding to be nice — of course, I have a name, rather stupid to assume otherwise, “ I believe it would do you good to pretend to talk on the phone, unless you’d like anyone walking by to assume you are asking these questions of a raven. ”

"Promise I'll try not to," She lets out a small sigh. Willow wonders if they have special Reapers for demons. Ones to ferry them down to Hell kicking and screaming or if it's peaceful. This might be the closest she'll ever get to answering all the questions she had before the change. She perks up. "--Are you, like, busy right now? I'd really love to pick your brain, if that's allowed, and seeing as I promised not to make a habit of meeting Grim Reapers you might be the only person I'll ever be able to ask all my questions."

ALWAYS WITH THE QUESTIONS — she isn’t the only one that has wanted answers. Often the ones he comes to collect from, if they aren’t dead when he arrives, asks him all kinds of questions about what it’s like. There are only so many answers he has — he hasn’t died, after all.

He checks his roster, which is a giant, ancient looking tome, leather bound with creased parchment pages. He checks the time — on his smartphone, because believe it or not, Reapers do live in the twenty-first century. Mostly.

“ I have some time, but I might not be able to answer all of your questions, ” he smiles, “ Trade secrets. Confidentiality, and all that. ”

Well, this isn't the first time she's flirted with Death, she supposes. This might actually put her at ease, something more normal than trying to explain her existence to the guy who literally reaps souls for a living. She feels herself smiling a little bit, against her will.

"Of course I am, is there any way I can put in an application to be on your roster? ---Just in case."

GRIM’S SMIRK GROWS TO A FULL SMILE, his ego thoroughly stroked and satiated. For now.

“ Good. Then I might be able to pull some strings. ” In actuality he isn’t sure that he can, but he won’t say that to her, not yet at least. He brushed hair out of his face and behind his ear, “ Though, you probably shouldn’t make it a habit of meeting Grim Reapers, as handsome and irresistible as some of them may be. ”

He can’t imagine what kind of damage it can do to someone's sanity.

ohfiendangelical

It’s been a minute since a reaper showed their face around here. The sudden intrusion startles him, but the familiar energy keeps him from being too on-edge.

He is, however, insulted. This stupid twink shows up in his house with one purpose—to do his fucking job—and not only does he not mind his business, but he throws shade? The audacity.

“Yeah, actually,” Zero says, doing nothing to mask his annoyance. “Maybe you’d know that if you, like, read a book or something.”

#ohfiendangelical #❝ 𝖎𝖓 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 . ❞ — grim .

HE WEARS BOREDOM ON HIS FACE, because he is already so tired of this conversation. Head lits to the side, weight shifted from one hip to the other.

“ You may find it quite hard to find information on your kind in books, Zero. ” This isn’t the first time he has taken a soul from a victim in this household, surprisingly. The L.A. area was already a busy place for those who work in his field, but with the recent spike in demon related cases, he would have been a fool not to do his research…

“ I wouldn’t have asked if I could read about it. ”

Well, she's mortified. Not liking the idea of having a smell. Her confidence has just taken a huge hit, considering she kind of prides herself on smelling nice all of the time. God. Can Einar smell it? Can everyone, and nobody's ever told her? She feels her shoulders slumping, her head hanging a little lower.

"Uh, yes to all three of those, before turning into what I am. Which means I'll probably never get to meet you in an official capacity, unfortunately. I was so looking forward to that, before."

#sighing.... sorry willow.#unpossession #❝ 𝖎𝖓 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 . ❞ — grim .

THAT’S A WHOLE LOT TO TAKE IN, and Grim shows this by the way his brow furrows even further, “ … Interesting, ” he says, pulling a gloved finger over his bottom lip in thought before he readjusts, inspecting her more closely.

“ If you die, you may still see a reaper before you are taken to the afterlife, although it’s no guarantee it will be me assigned to your case — ”

He flashes her a smile, a bit of a devious one at that, “ Unless... are you already taken by my pretty face and my charm? ”

oh my godddddddddd......................... babygirl.................

#made him bark for me in game. what a good game #❝ 𝕱𝖆𝖊𝖇𝖔𝖑𝖉 . ❞ — out of character.

ziracona

I’m playing Blood Drive and it’s still true

#IVE BEEN SAYING!!!!#❝ 𝕱𝖆𝖊𝖇𝖔𝖑𝖉 . ❞ — shitposts .

"What smell?" Well... That's just rude! Willow leans back a little, turning her head to her shoulder and taking a little sniff. She'd never noticed a distinct hell smell - she wouldn't even know how to recognise it. It's not like she's been there. Willow's lip curls up, a little hurt by the label.

Still, guess he's not completely incorrect, which means he probably isn't lying about being. Well. Death. Which is kinda funny, actually, 'cause she never imagined Death would look... Like that.

"I'm not -- I'm not from Hell, actually."