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Snippet #2680715

located in Somewhere in the World, a part of The Masks of Death, one of the many universes on RPG.

Somewhere in the World



Characters Present

Character Portrait: Valko Character Portrait: Sinclair Character Portrait: Opheila Character Portrait: Lune Character Portrait: Danzaline Alchaline Character Portrait: Raven Character Portrait: Harper Character Portrait: Finn McCool
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Valko stood over the body of a young woman who lay in a puddle of her own blood. For him, the worst part about his job was that he had to be there whenever a new recruit died, otherwise their soul might wander away from the body, or another Reaper might come along and help them to pass on. Or even worse, Sinclair could arrive on the scene and steal another soul away for his rogues.

The figure on the ground before the Frost Wolf Reaper looked barely old enough to be an adult. The woman she had been trying to protect had gotten away, which was good, but the man who had committed this crime had fled as well. The murderer had seemed to recognize the woman, maybe she was someone important? Valko had no idea, didn't care. Whoever she was while alive, that wasn't who she would soon become, was becoming. As he watched the woman seemed to raise up out of herself, the separation of soul and body. He didn't think he'd ever get used to the sight.

"Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me." Valko says as he reaches out and takes her hand. She now wore a yellow dress and bore a scar on her forehead from her death. "I've got a lot to talk to you about, but not here in the streets."

The Reaper leads her over to the shadow cast by a dumpster, but as they reach the darkness they disappear into it, and after a moment of nothingness, they find themselves standing in what appears to be an old warehouse. Two other figures can be seen milling around, both men, which might worry the woman, but there was little Valko could do about that, and besides, what he had to say would probably make her forgot her worried about such things.

"Please, take a seat." Valko says, releasing her hand and walking over to a table, pulling a chair out for her. "These two men are friends. This is Finn, and Mordax." He points to each of them in turn, then to the two of them he says, "This is the newest recruit. I'm about to give her the talk, so please don't interrupt." Turning back to the young woman, Valko takes a seat across from her and clears his throat. Up until now he has been wearing his Reaper attire of a black robe and a wolfish mask, but how he removes the mask, which seems to turn to dust and float away on an unseen breeze, as does the robe, revealing that Valko is now wearing black pants and a grey button down shirt.

"I know this may be hard to understand, but please bare with me. You are dead now, and Death himself has recruited you into his services. From this day forward, you are a Reaper. You will be given new abilities, some unique to yourself, some general ones that we all have. You will use these powers to defend yourself against the evils of the world while you carry out the task of helping the souls of the dead to the other side." Valko pauses then to let this sink in, wondering how she will react.


"It seems I was too slow this time." Sinclair says, removing his mask to reveal dark hair and eyes that seem to glow slightly. He stands on the rooftop of a building across the street, looking down on the scene as Valko disappears into the shadows. A few moments later a sobbing woman returns with a man, and in the distance sirens wail. "Fools, don't they know that it's too late for those? That it's too late for anything now."

Smirking, Sinclair steps backwards into a shadow and emerges from the shadow of a grandfather clock into the den of an old, run down mansion. The place had been deserted decades ago, thought to be haunted. It was outside of the city, far enough away from anyone else that the Blade Reaper and his rogues could have their privacy without the need to keep themselves too quiet. After all, if the place was supposed to be haunted, who wouldn't expect the occasional odd noise.

"Ophelia, Raven, Lune," Sinclair calls out as he moved further into the house. "It seems the enemy has a new recruit, but no matter. We also have a bit of prey to hunt down. There is a murderer lose in the city, and I feel like going out for a walk, would anyone care to join me?"

The rogues were free to do as they pleased really, so long as when Sinclair asked them for something they complied. Normally, each night when the sun went down, his crew would head out into the streets and do what they did pest. Punish whomever they saw fit. It was easier to do this at night, because in a city like this which never really slept, the odd ones always came out later, and few people would question a group of odd looking individuals wandering the streets. Even if they displayed their powers the poor simple humans often chalked it up to a show of some sort.

"I also caught wind that a demon may enter the city this evening, and those are always good fun."