Dictator4Hire
Name: Death
Species: Reaper
Attributes: Time; Psychology; Cold
Gender: Male
Age: Roughly 200,000 Years Old
Appearance:
Backstory:
The priest hung his head low as the room grew silent. Another had passed.
Her flesh was cold. She had no pulse. She had breathed her last.
The town was growing quiet as the people died
Those that were left had pained and cried.
Her spirit remained a little while
Free from the filth and famine and bile.
She looked up to Death and said,
"Please don't hurt me," full of dread.
Death was silent; he did not speak
He did not see the girl as weak.
He did not enjoy or see this fun
But this was nature; it must be done.
He held his hand out.
The girl took it, full of doubt.
He embraced her, then held up his scythe,
And took her to the afterlife.Death stood in a contemporary meeting room wearing a tie and a white shirt (albeit with his black hood) pointing a laser pointer at the powerpoint screen. "A poem made about me a while back. Thought I'd share it. Now on to business," he said before clearing his throat. "It's been slow ever since I broke up the responsibility of Grim Reaper when the human population became too big."
Pacing around the table, he spoke to the people at the meeting table, each wearing a similar shirt, but without a hood. Death said, "That doesn't mean I appreciate what you all are doing. I just feel like we've been irresponsibly spending money. Promoting all those Mishaps to Death Types wasn't the best idea. On that note, let's do roll-call. Drowning?"
Sloshing could be heard as a man responded, "Here."
"Plague?"
"*cough* *cough* Here. ACHOO!"
"Old Age?"
Someone piped up and said, "He's retired."
"Right. Ahhh Heart Disease. You there?"
"Here. Where are we going for lunch?"
"Your choice. War?"
"Standing by."
"Starvation?"
"Here."
"Exposure?"
"Here," said a naked man on the other side of the room. Everyone was sitting away from him.
"Car Accident?"
Someone said, "Stuck in traffic."
"Sexual Act Gone Wrong?"
There was silence. After a few seconds, he could be heard in the bathroom. "Does anybody have a mop?"
Death hung his head low and passed around a sign-in sheet, aware that he may be in for more disappointment if he continued this. He pulled down some charts and said, "Let's move on to tops this month. That award goes to Heart Disease. Way to go!" Claps went around the room for the corpulent man as he held his scythe up. "And congrats to Intoxication for racking up a hit-and-run record this month."
Death handed some sheets around. The sheets were passed along the table. As they were being passed, Death said, "Murder, could you wait 'till after the meeting?" as a scythe-sharpener started up. The Death Type sat down and loudly said, "OKAY."
"Thanks," Death said. The meeting grew even more mundane before Death stopped in the middle of reading something out. "Okay, guys, we were once feared. It seemed like yesterday that people were drawing things of us causing hell. Plague, you and I kicked ass during the Spanish Flu, remember? War, remember Hiroshima? That was good work! Still, it was nothing like when I launched Black Plague when we were a small business. Why don't we do that again?"
"I think the Horsemen of the Apocalypse said to tone it down," someone said.
"They never said anything like that. We just can't come up with something good. We need a new major death event!"
There were some claps and murmurs as Death continued. "Plague, are you with me?"
"*cough* You bet!"
"Famine, are you with me?"
"*grrooaann* Yep!"
"Violence, you with me?"
"I am the angel of death. The time of purification is at hand..."
"M'kay. Anyone else?"
"We are," Drowning and Exposure said.
"Just goes to show that you can always trust the guy at the water cooler," Death said. "Before we start, we've got to practice. Some humans are making a fake universe. I'm gonna go practice there before we start the death event," Death said. Upon that, the room burst into claps as Death lifted his scythe and caused a rip in time. He reached into the tear and grabbed his robe. He put it on and said, "It's good to be back," before ripping another hole in time and stepping in.
