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 Posted: Fri Apr 08, 2011 1:03 am
((OOC: This is a PRP between a GM character and Delta Seven ONLY, they are currently standing in a remote area of the beach surrounded by fog and cannot be ICly tracked/followed thank you. This is the followup for the rp here )) The dirt itself was soft, too soft, grainy and textured. From between the gaps of thick fog, there were glimpses of something grey-blue, an ocean, waves, the figure had not been lying about the 'walk on the beach'.
They simply walked through the fog, down the shore, for a good minute or so, before the reaper paused, the steady crunch-crunch of his shoes silent. "What, no questions? I don't know what to do on our second date if our first one is so quiet."
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Posted: Fri Apr 08, 2011 1:39 am
Delta Seven had caught the cloak and daggers the Reaper tossed at him. Bundling them under one arm, he ripped off his gasmask with the other. He couldn't remember air ever tasting so sweet. Well, technically he couldn't remember tasting air that hadn't been cycled through the mask. Still, this was a giant improvement. He ran a hand through his hair - god, he had hair! It was nice to know he wasn't bald, there seemed to be enough of it up there.
And the best thing about no mask?
He tossed back his glass of scotch. Ahh, nothing like that burn!
Fortified with liquid courage and a new outfit, Delta Seven strode through the door after the Reaper. What was there to fear from him now, after all? All Delta Seven had left was his curiosity. He'd rather expected life after death to contain more answers.
The ocean breeze was another revelation, as they emerged onto the beach. He swung the cape around himself and tucked the daggers through his belt. He left the hood down for now - the Reaper knew who he was, and Delta Seven was enjoying the gentle spray from the waves on his face. He allowed his eyes to close and breathed deeply.
The Reaper began talking, so Delta Seven switched his focus to the hooded figure. "First date?" he repeated with a snort. "Wouldn't that have been when you took me underground and got me killed?"
Hmm, possibly better not to taunt the man - er, person, thing - with the giant scythe. Though when it came to questions, it wasn't a matter of 'none', it was a matter of 'so many he didn't know where to start'.
"How much time have you got?" he asked. "Who am I, why am I here, meaning of life... well, no, don't care about that last one so much."
He walked along the beach, enjoying the island now that it couldn't kill him. (Too late, island.) He tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants, under the cloak. "The big question right now," he said with a frown, "would be what you want with me. I doubt it's really for a date."
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Posted: Fri Apr 08, 2011 2:13 am
"Aww, and here I was just warming up to you, honey."
The figure's actions and their words just did not match up at all. They continued walking as they talked. "Well, before we get started, let me lay down some ground rules. I'll tell you now, I'm no good with rule breakers, shall we call them, they usually end up dead. Or well, more than dead, a permanent sorry state of non-existence, shall we call it."
"First of all, rule one: if I am not around, keep your words to a minimum. Do not even think of opening that mouth of yours to say anything other than what is necessary. Do not drop hints of your 'death', do not even think about dropping hints about life after 'death', so to speak. Let's say that you ah, oh yes, that TV series, about Reapers or something. You died. You became a Reaper, you know one of those dudes in a scythe that harvest dead souls or something? The last thing you want to do is tell your new best friends, whom I have to say, you have never met until twenty-four hours ago, about your improved social status. I need not make this more clear."
"Secondly." They held up their hand, raising a second finger to join the first. "You are a non-entity. You do not exist. You are nobody, you are dead. Remember that analogy about Reapers? Pretend that you are one, if you must, and do your work."
"Thirdly" A third finger. "Your work. Why are you here? Why are you not lying in some sorry ditch in a dank cave of non-existence? Why did I bring you here? The answer is simple. I like to think of myself as an epicurean of sorts, tasting all the wonders that death has to bring me. Mainly, you. You, and all the ones brought onto this, our island, are the experiments. Don't look at me like that - you willingly signed the waiver, you wanted this, we simply propagated a possibility. Need and receive. Give and take. Ask and find. Simple terms, really. And while your testing has sadly, been woefully terminated to an early closure, beyond my initial expectations, we still want to give you one more chance."
"Which brings me to my fourth, and final conclusion. So now, with my clock ticking, and your clock stopped forever, I draw myself to a long-winded finale. What will be your choice? Do you want to take this last chance and take my little task, do your new job, or would you like to go back to permanent non-existence? Help those like you on the island or escape from it all?" It was hard to tell exactly what sort of expression they were hiding under their hood. "I don't take anyone, just so you know, I always pick the best and brightest to do these tasks."
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Posted: Fri Apr 08, 2011 2:36 am
The Reaper had a strange sense of humour. A very human one, actually, which made Delta Seven wonder just what was under that hood. Another dead human, just like himself? Or a very real supernatural being who'd just spent too long picking up human culture and mannerisms?
Maybe he'd be happier (not to mention safer) not knowing.
The rules were pretty simple. Though the Reaper could write an essay on each one, from the sounds of it. But it all boiled down to the same thing.
"My mission, if I choose to accept it, is to be a Reaper. Nothing more, nothing less. I was not ever human. I was never in a swanky lounge of fake-Purgatory. I did not ever know those people. I will not speak to those people unless it is to give them confusing and insulting instructions that may lead to their deaths or to their ultimate self-improvement and survival."
It was an interesting proposal. Delta Seven didn't like the idea of there being nothing after death. Not that he could have imagined an afterlife quite like this.
He wondered if he should tell the Reaper that he didn't need the compliments to lure D7 in. How could he say no to this chance?
"Well," he said. Best and brightest, huh. "I guess that makes me the latest members of the Reaper SEALs. I'm in."
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Posted: Fri Apr 08, 2011 3:42 am
"Your mission, should you accept is, is to carry out my tasks, no more no less." The stranger heavily emphasized the last few words. "I want to re-clarify this with you. I am not, by most commonly accepted terminology, a Reaper, but more of a Hunter, of sorts. Thus the entire 'analogy' thing. So please do not make a fool of yourself and up the body count for no reason. We don't kill people, we test them. This is a training exercise, a classic montage, one giant test, and from it, we will select the best and brightest of Hunter candidates to join us for the next fiscal year. There will be cheese and crackers in the open house. But ah, look at me going off track again."
"You are to take this pendant and give it to someone worthy. Who is worthy? How are they worthy? That is for you to decide and judge. You make the rules, you let them play within it, and then finally, I will come in and judge your performance. Let's say that everyone on this island was part of a school entrance exam. Congratulations! You passed the exam, but you still need to be interviewed. This is it, your big interview. Do well, and I will give you what you value: your body, your life, your memories. I promise this and I never fall back on my promises."
They tossed two somethings into the air towards Delta Seven, the first glittering with a light blue aura, the second, a more familiar object, a cell phone. "Give me a call when you think you have completed the task, I am the only number on the list. It's simple, you have already been tested, you know what to do. Do not draw too much attention to yourself, there is unwanted... filth on this island. You do not stand a chance against this, not without more training."
"But look at me rambling on, it's a miracle I get things done during the day! Well, my time is up here, enjoy, have fun, use the phone to navigate where you want to go and oh, I don't do disappointment well."
Their weapon flickered into non-existence, as they too, faded out.
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Posted: Fri Apr 08, 2011 4:13 am
"Hunters," Delta Seven repeated and something clicked in his mind. He'd heard that term before. No details came on where or from who, but he somehow knew that this was the truth. So this was what he'd signed up to try and become.
If wasn't sure if that goal was over for him or not. The Reaper wasn't clear - nothing new there. Though the promise of his body and memories back was another definite plus to this afterlife deal.
"Not something I'm supposed to tell the others, though," he guessed. They didn't need to know what they were here for. And if the afterlife was off-limits, so must one of the secrets behind their memory loss.
The cellphone disappeared into a pocket beneath the cloak. For now, the pendant was draped around his neck. He'd find it a more worthy home soon enough. Someone living, who could use it.
Delta Seven opened his mouth to ask more about this 'unwanted filth', but the Reaper - Hunter - was already fading out. Delta Seven's eyebrows raised. "Huh. Impressive."
Could he do that, too? Did he really want to risk trying? Best to stick with what he knew.
Delta Seven took one last look out at the ocean. It might be his last peaceful moment for some time. With a sigh, he pulled up the hood of his cloak. Time to be just another Hunter - a Reaper in the minds of the living humans. Delta Seven was dead. The apprentice Hunter left the beach, off in search of promising humans to test.
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