Poison Ivy: 10


Oh, there he goes.


He went awfully quick this time—he must have been pretty tired when he arrived to see Juniper.

Sorry Sergio; I didn’t have the opportunity to chat with you before you passed. I was too concerned with trying to get to know your son. I’m sure you’ll consider that a reasonable and good exchange. You want your son to get to know me, don’t you.


Oh, right, You can’t answer. You can only speak to Death now.

I wonder what that must be like; being Death. There’s power in being a Creator, sure. I can make things happen, to a certain extent. Only with the Torch Holder, the priestess of my acolytes, the generator of my parish, of course, but with the rest I can organize scenarios to put them where I want them. I can build houses and raze them. I can provide or deny. In many ways, I am a bringer of death, and orchestrator of it.

But what must it be like to be Death. To have the power in opposition of mine—a Destroyer, a Remover.

Does he enjoy it?

Well, do you?


“You speak with the naiveté of a new Creator, Speaker. As one, you should realize that I am not a singular, but one of many. The name Death follows many.”

Yeah, sure, whatever. That makes sense. But, like, do you enjoy it? Or is it hard? To reap souls, to remove life, to destroy.


“I try not to think of it that way, oh Arrogant One, else it might be a very hard job indeed. Especially when reaping souls from situations like… this, I find myself heartened by the knowledge that their souls are going somewhere better.”

Oh, don’t take that tone with me. This is necessary and you know it. Balance and all that.


“This may be a version of balance. But the universe usually comes to balance on its own.”



Nothing wrong with helping it along a little. I need a large parish of acolytes, Death. That’s a lot of life. If we take that much and return nothing, the consequences would be dire. So many innocents could die.


“And are these men not innocent? You worry not about innocents, but about your own disciples. You fear that, if they are the product of the imbalance, the difference will be brought down on their heads.” 

There’s something wrong with caring for my Chosen? I am a god, Death. It is what gods do—care for their Chosen.


Look at these two, completely unaware of anything going on. Would you have the debt of the imbalance be taken from them? No, this is better.


“Whatever you say, oh Arrogant One.”

Shut up.

I don’t like that guy.

I’d say we should have a baby with him, but I’m pretty sure that Death can’t die.

We’ll see.

On the other hand… that would be quite the coup, wouldn’t it…

I may begin to plot.

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