NAME. Hwijid AGE & BIRTH DATE. 5000+ & Unknown GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Spirit ( Reaper ) OCCUPATION. Death's Right Hand FACE CLAIM. Sidharth Malhotra
biography
From the birth of mortals he came, one of them once but so long ago that it doesn’t matter to him. The deal that was made or the promise that was given faded with time, along with any memory before he started his eternal work. For Death was his benefactor and he would continue to work so long as Death remained. He was happy to do so because purpose sustenance for a spirit that vowed to never long for rest.
Hwijid.
He cannot remember if it was a sound, an order, or deep seated desire that remained when all the rest of himself got swallowed by his role in the grand plan, but that was who he was to himself and what he wanted to embody. Hwijid was a helpful asset because he could still remember what it was to feel. Empathy was important to guide restless souls, and his gift for it made supporting his great contract holder’s design easy. He never judged, that was not his job. Hwijid only ever performed as he was required, nothing more, nothing less. Eternity can slip by so easily when it’s one filled with purpose. His kindness was a necessity when often it’d be the last kindness the souls received. It didn’t matter what they had done in life to deserve the gates of the Inferno, Hwijid would still provide what comfort he could. Death was final, in most cases, so it was the most he could do.
Those who were to be guided to a warmer rest were in need of comfort too, for there weren’t many embraced Death in all her magnitude even among those weighted for Elysium. Hwijid was as dutiful as he was old, and he had become quite old before he could even realize he was a relic in a system that had become integral to the very fabric of life. Without Death, life would’ve been nothing but empty desolation for all who traversed the chasm of existence where he dwelt. And life was precious. Even if he had forgotten what that felt like, he could never forget what that meant. Every weary, uncertain soul guided by Hwijid was reminded of that by the time they arrived at their destination. He saw regret, joy, and so many other emotions he couldn’t possibly name once that understanding was met. All souls needed it, even the ones burdened with the most sin. It was a byproduct of Hwijid’s one and only comfort to extend: acceptance.
The finality of it all is what made Death so beautiful, and what made him appreciate his role in her design. But times change. Numbers grew, chaos ensued, and the ability to provide comfort dwindled. How could a soul accept Death when Death could be so unfair? When they rejected their lives and fates? He gave proper attention to each, but Hwijid never got a break. There were too many souls and not enough time. He didn’t even realize how hard he’d been working for an amount of time he was unable to discern until it stopped. Death stopped, and he realized that something needed to change, else he may break his contract and wish to be done…
Hwijid.
The break was brief and the system started again. A cat came to tell him so. Death had a new face but that didn’t not change Hwijid’s outlook. He was loyal to Death no matter what and was reminded of the vow he took so long ago to remain dedicated to purpose, but there was no overhaul or remodel in the process, just an on switch and a Void. Souls are poured into it, constantly, without end. Most with horrible suffering etched into their very beings. How could Death allow his reach to extend so far? What will happen when there are no longer souls to guide? These questions are above Hwijid’s head and he knows he has no say, but he can’t help but feel their weight pressing down on him. He was meant to care, it’s what made him so effective. Death is inevitable as he should be, but what purpose does Death have if he is more certain than life? Scarcity benefits neither as both provide meaning to each other.
Hwijid.
Like the name he had bestowed upon himself, that ideal echoes around him like a grim reminder. Death the benefactor, in many ways more certain now than previously. Hwijid hasn’t the slightest clue how to navigate a heart made of iron or a mind occupied with a sith. He may have been the first to have the role, but he was new to Hwijid. Still, he must also accept that if there were someone more suited for the role then they would be in his place. The fact that his time has been extended and that his capacity to care hasn’t diminished is all the reassurance Hwijid requires. His job was never meant to be singularly faceted, he was always meant to support Death to the best of his abilities. His worries didn’t start with Death as he is now, but when Death dwelled her dark domain. If he hadn’t been so overworked then maybe he would have spoken up sooner. He exists with purpose, to fulfill something that no one else in the system can do as he has since he awoke as a Reaper. Loyalty does not mean blind faith, not when in his minuscule down time is consumed with questions that probably began brewing before he was even able to put them into words.
Hwijid can’t recall why he was chosen, but he knows what he feels now. He has time, but must act with urgency. Day in and day out he will continue to guide souls into this new Void, providing what comforts he can, but he will also work diligently on what may be his first goal. Ever. He knows above all else he must convince Death to look at things more closely and find something to change, else they will be left with no one to guide. He has always been an asset to Death, forever loyal and for that he feels he can make himself heard. If he didn’t, then he’d have ignored the cat’s meowing summons. Hwijid is Death’s hand, and he will remain as such for as long as his eternity stretches, even if that means facilitating the oblivion to life he wants to prevent.
personality
+ Compassionate, Reverent, Gentle - Stubborn, Humorless, Workaholic
played by zen. est. he/him.