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Malach Reaper

"I'm not a face worth remembering anyway."

0 · 308 views · located in Capriccio City

a character in “The Enigma Phantasma”, as played by H3R0





"When you die, the Reaper comes to collect you, to hold your hand, young or old, and lead you into the afterlife that belongs to you. You know you're the Reaper when nobody shows up to guide you. You just wake up and you just, you just know, and you're scared, but this is the responsibility that's been given to you and this is what you're left to deal with. There's no use fighting."

Grim Reaper


Death, Grim, Mr. Reaper, Angel of Death, Devil, Abaddon, Samael, and many others. There's too many to count. He doesn't exactly mind getting nicknames, but he usually corrects those who give one to him anyway. All Reapers are given an "Alias" upon being chosen as a Reaper to classify them. Not all Reapers are the same, in a sense, so it's a way of separating them, and Malach treasures the name given to him as, well, as just that, as his name, because he doesn't know what his real one used to be and it's all he has for himself. Some other Reaper would probably be called Abaddon, so if someone referred to him as that, he would correct them simply because he wouldn't want them thinking he's someone else.

Malach, as in Malach HaMavet, which means Angel of Death in Biblical lore.

In looks, 16
In actuality, who even knows anymore?

Malach has never spent much time considering this. If anyone were to ask, he would just shrug and say it didn't matter very much to him. However, in all technicality, he would probably be classified as asexual, but not aromantic, as he can still feel that way about others.

Romantic Interest(s):
Malach once found himself enamoured with this pretty girl with long, braided blond hair. He used to follow her around despite his duties and watch her often. When her mother died in an unfortunate car crash, he personally saw to it that he was the one to help her spirit along in the afterlife. When he took the mother's hand, he told her that she had a beautiful daughter, and that made her smile. There wasn't much else he could do for the girl and after a while, she started to age past him and he started to grow bored and move on with the things he needed to do, but one little thing stopped him. She had something inside of her that was killing her at an early age, and one day when he returned, all her pretty blond hair had been cut off her prettier head. There wasn't anything he could do and he wasn't even the one to walk her into the afterlife, so all he could do was watch as someone else did it in his place.

There haven't really been many others after that.


"Some people seem to believe that they can be whatever they want after they die, even something ridiculous like an inanimate object. Supposedly ugly people think that, in death, they can transform themselves into someone beautiful, even taking the face of a movie star, but all of these people are wrong. Physical and aesthetic judgement is a thing for, well, the physical world. Your appearance doesn't change in death, you simply stop caring about it. I like that."



Thin, lithe, maybe even a bit on the scrawny side.

Hair Color/Style:
Cut short and styled neat, Malach generally doesn't have too much of an issue with his hair. It doesn't exactly grow out, but he could cut it shorter if he wanted to, which he doesn't. The only problem he seems to have sometimes is his bangs falling in his eyes.

Eye Color:
Bluish gray

None of the above. Malach doesn't have a single blemish marking his skin, nothing that stands out, nothing big, small, or fading away. While there's nothing, it's nothing so pure it's out of the ordinary. He just never opted to get any tattoos or piercings and scars are for people who aren't as careful as he was in his life, when he was living anyway.

Ghostly. Translucent, but only in a theoretical sense. While, technically speaking, Malach is a solid person, he may not seem that way to many of those who can actually see him. He's never been one to ever make much of an impression. His face has never been anything to memorize, just a background character of someone else's life, a mere stranger in the occasional family photograph. He has always been someone who exists by technicality, but his impact on the world is hardly even a dot, not even worth considering as an ant in the pile of the colony; perhaps a molecule, an atom, something miniscule and not worthwhile, something that exists but isn't important enough to seek out, would be more suiting to describe his appearance.

Maybe that's a little harsh. After all, everyone is important, everyone deserves to be known and acknowledged as a real thing that really exists, but to Malach, he's just never bothered with it. He's never brought very much attention to himself in any particular way, never done anything exceptionally interesting. His looks are not below average, but not really anything to talk about either. His skin his peachy, leaning towards pale, soft and smooth and almost childish. Puberty never did much for him in the ways of physical maturity. His eyes, blue and dull, are just marks on his skin, features of the face, as average as the rest of him, from his small nose to his thin-lipped mouth.

The expression he wears is commonly apathetic or dull. He's not a very expressive person, in both his face and in his movements. Although his very being screams nothing impressive, his stance rarely wavers and his posture never droops. He carries himself properly, while his aura radiates a gray atmosphere, calm and disinterested, vague and nothing to care about. If ever he wanted, he could slip in a room and stand by without so much as having his presence being noticed. Average. Bland. Dull. Nothing impressive. Malach has never been anything very impressive.


"I wish there was some sort of inspirational thing I could put here. I wish I could tell you that I've spent my life saving puppies and helping old ladies across the street and putting smiles on faces. I wish I could say that there hasn't been a single bad thought ever run in my head, that I'm perfectly happy the way I am and you should be too. I wish I could say that, but I can't. I couldn't lie. Not like that."

Corrects people who use don't speak properly. He has a tendency to be a bit like grammar nazi, only with speech. To be honest, he actually doesn't mind when someone doesn't use something correctly. It doesn't get on his nerves. He just has a natural compulsion to correct people whenever they speak incorrectly. Whenever he corrects someone, he does it immediately, often interrupting them in the middle of whatever they were saying, but it's just a short, quick correction. He just gives them the correct form of the word, or says whatever they were saying the right way, and then lets it go. If they ask why he did that or if they say "what?," he'll explain what he was doing. In example, if someone were to say: "I don't see nothing," Malach will quickly interject with: "--anything." And if he were asked, "What?" his answer would be: "You didn't see anything. Not nothing."

Easily susceptible to brain freeze and spicy foods. This one pretty much speaks for itself. Even being technically dead, Malach can still feel things. He can still taste food if he eats anything, although if he ever does, it's mostly for pleasure than for sustenance. He has a particular dislike for spicy foods and would rather have something taste bland than taste spicy. Even a little bit can have him tearing up. Of course, he likes cold things, but even if a soda is too cold when he drinks it, he may even risk getting brain freeze from it. It gets on his nerves, but he'd rather have brain freeze than something spicy.

Peevish over specific things, like tapping feet, popping gum, loud chewing, etc. There's a list somewhere, probably, of all the little ticks and habits of the things people do that get to him. He'll only let something go on for so long before he snaps at them to please stop that through gritted teeth.

Ambidextrous. It's not usually all that relevant, but yeah, Malach has plenty of ability in both of his hands. Neither is worse than the other and he seems to favor each about fifty/fifty. It's an alright thing to have when writing, but it tends to give him the slightest bit of an advantage when using a weapon.

Small animals
Blond hair

Loud noises
Large animals

ϟFollowing lost animals
ϟWatching children who were left alone
ϟWandering in general

Phobia(s)/General Fears:
Magic. Because of his mother's obsessively destructive ways, it's become an absolute phobia of his. Of course, being a Reaper means that he's been thrown into a world of magic. He's had to learn of witches and vampires and other creatures that he never even dreamed of actually existing. He's terrified of them. Maybe not as people, specifically. For instance, if he ever met a magic user, whether or not he knows they can use magic is fine with him. However, if they ever used it around him, he would immediately be frozen with fear even if he was convinced they were the nicest person in the world. It terrifies him. He doesn't understand it. He doesn't know the difference between "good" magic and "dark" magic and he doesn't care to learn because, as far as he's concerned, it's all no good.

Being replaced/not being good enough. Another thing caused by his life before his, well, death, Malach fears not being good enough as a person. He's afraid that because someone may not deem him good enough that he'll be replaced by someone better, someone brighter or bigger or better looking than him. This fear has given him anxieties he never really had during his time alive. Now they're concerns he has every time he's around other people, especially if he likes them or gets attached to them.

There's nothing very special about Malach at all. He doesn't have any particularly notable talents. He doesn't have a strange way of speaking or say any words that don't really fit. He isn't loud or spontaneous. He would never stick out in a crowd or catch someone's eyes in a room. His face isn't memorable and neither is his personality, not really anyway. Whether or not he likes it that way is debatable. Of course, not being the type of person to get noticed easily lets him get away with things, but he's never done anything particularly bad that he would have any reason to blend in anyway, so it's not exactly a helpful trait. If anything, it just gets his shoulder bumped on the sidewalk and his foot stomped in lines. He would say something about it, but he would rather not. He would rather have nobody remember him than risk getting himself punched in the face. Dead or not, pain is real and it really hurts.

Malach has always been the follower type. It's hard for him to get attached to people, but once he does, he'll follow them along without really needing a reason for it. While he may seem like he has it all together, like he's strong-willed and resilient, the reality is that he isn't actually like that at all. He's easily susceptible to insults and it doesn't take much to influence him one way or another. Even if he doesn't agree with what he might be going along with, he could still be swayed into doing it anyway, especially if physical confrontation is threatened or if he ever gets bashed with insults. It's not that reverse psychology gets to him, he just doesn't appreciate being insulted. His lack of self esteem puts him in a bad place of mind, where he can easily convince himself that whatever bad things being said about him are true without a doubt and that he might as well do what he's told to avoid hearing anymore about it.

However, even he can only take so much before he snaps. If Malach is pushed around past his limit, he'll snap and do something completely and absolutely irrational. He's not very good with emotional situations, so he is usually either apathetic or dangerously emotional. While he usually tries to keep himself in check for the sake of knowing what happens when his emotions do get the best of him, on the inside, he is a swarm of different things, all of it almost entirely negative. He's strongly jealous of the living. He doesn't think it's fair that they got to live a life he so badly wanted to live. Why should others be so happy when he's so miserable, even in his afterlife? Even more than the living, he hates the dead. He hates the spirits he gets to lead to the other side. He hates that they get to move on when he will never be allowed to. He's resentful and jealous and self-pitying, a downer with the words "why me?" always lingering somewhere in his head.

While he may not seem like the best or most interesting person, Malach does have his good points. Despite his nearly obsessive resentment, he doesn't actually hate everyone. He's kind to people and he has a tendency to speak way more politely than he would ever need to, referring to people as Sir or Ma'am. He has many worries swirling around in that head of his, and a huge one is whether or not he is someone people would like to keep around. He is always wondering if he is dislikable or gross or something unpleasant in general, so he enjoys knowing if he's made someone smile or helped someone out. When he gets into an overemotional state, the moment it's over, he'll regret it, no matter how deserving he was to get like that. If someone bullied him into cursing them out and freaking out on them, he would later on profusely apologize and hope he didn't hurt their feelings too bad. Sometimes, he likes to pretend he's a really bad person just to make himself feel better about being such a pushover, but the reality is he's not like that at all.


"The universe is made up of variables. Everyone is different and while people are similar, they are not the same. These are not things to argue about or use against each other. One man's strength is another man's weakness. I suppose I consider most people to be properly balanced in one way or another, except for me. I believe I've been tipped a little too much on the side of the cons."

Light-footed. Not only is Malach almost entirely invisible when it comes to appearances (theoretically, not literally), he's easily undetectable when it comes to sounds of any other natures. He's very often silent, rarely ever making unnecessary sounds or doing anything like shuffling or tapping. When he walks, he is silent. His footsteps don't make an echo in an empty alley. He barely makes a splash when he walks through a puddle. He would be very good at sneaking up on people or sneaking away if he ever had to.

Multi-lingual. When he was alive, he only ever knew how to speak French and very broken English since he'd only ever lived in France and wasn't very good at his studies. However, upon becoming a Grim Reaper, he learned that he was able to communicate with people of all sorts of languages without an issue. He supposed it only made sense, since it would be pretty frustrating if the spirit he was leading to the beyond spoke a language he couldn't understand. Souls needed to be informed of their situation and what was going to happen to them.

Fighting. Physical confrontations are not his strong point. He is a small, thin, meak thing with little to no muscle anywhere on his body. He's soft and fragile and not very fast or balanced. He knows enough to protect himself, but not enough to keep up for a fight for very long. To do any damage at all, he would need his scythe with him, but even still he only knows basic techniques. In any case, if someone punched him in the face he would be pretty much down for the count.

Sensitive. Emotionally speaking, that is. He takes things to heart. While he may seem to be a bit stoic and uncaring, certain things are easy to get to him. He would be easy to manipulate or put down. His confidence isn't the best, so insults are painful and draining. It's an easy way to push him into a certain mindset, dangerous or otherwise, or just get him to give up on something.

Technology. Simple things like phones are alright to an extent. He can use them for their basic functions, like making a call or sending a terribly written text, but he's never quite got the hang of complex technological devices. He doesn't know how to use the internet and sometimes when he walks around, he finds himself constantly stunned, confused, or just outright awed at some of the things around him. He was born in a time that wasn't very developed in technology and although he's been around the world since then without missing any time between his life and his death, in his death he's just never been able to grasp certain concepts as easily as others born later on seem to be able to.

Seeing ghosts. He can see spirits after they've died and have been separated from their physical body. They don't have to be spirits he's been specifically assigned to. He can see the spirits that have been assigned to other Grim Reapers to take care of too, as well as ones that may have gotten away or gotten lost on their way to the beyond (which happens more often than it sounds like it would). He can see them and talk to them and interact with them to an extent.

Calling the scythe. It's probably not the coolest thing ever, but as a precaution, all Reapers are given the ability to summon the scythe given to them in the case that it's stolen by someone. It's also convenient for not having to carry it around with him everywhere. He can simply hold out a hand and it'll poof in his grip, while he can just as easily poof it away to wherever the scythes are stored. Unfortunately, he can only do this for one scythe at a time, so if his only scythe is broken, he can't summon a new one to replace it. He has to go to the Cerberus and request a brand new replacement, which is never a fun thing to do.

Weapon of Choice/Discipline:
The stereotype didn't come from thin air. Malach's only weapon comes in the form of a scythe. It's very simple, but sturdy. If it breaks, he can get in a lot of trouble, but it can always be replaced with another. So far, he's only broken one in his time as a Grim Reaper.

Fighting Style:
Very simple. Malach didn't have very much training in the ways of fighting before or after his death. He has a very simple, and somehow natural understanding on how to fight properly with his scythe, but he would much rather be on the defensive than on the offensive. He's not a fighter and while he may be able to hold his own against a moderately good fighter, he probably wouldn't last very long.


"This is the worst case scenario. Of all the punishments in all the worlds, what did I ever do to deserve this? I never asked to be a Reaper. I would never ask for something like this. Life isn't fair, but I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could get some sort of pay out through death. Instead, what I got was even worse than I ever could've imagined. Please, please just let me move on."

ImageRelationship Status:

Family/Significant Individuals:
Mother - Marlène Durant
Marlène Durant was a woman consumed by sadness. In her younger life, she had been a very happy daughter of a low-class family. She had many siblings, four of them, all of which were sisters. Her mother worked twice as hard to keep an eye out for them all and her father did his work just as well. They were a poor family, but they were happy. Marlène was happy. One of her and her sisters' favorite past times became cooking and baking. They practiced this hobby all their lives until it developed into skills that they were able to use to get the money to buy out a space for a restaurant. Being the second-eldest, Marlène became co-manager with her big sister and the sisters all worked there. The times were simple, but they were good. Marlène met her husband at the age of twenty and fell instantly in love. They married and got a place together and, just one year into their marriage, they had a child together, a beautiful baby boy.

Everything in the Durant house was going well...until something happened to that beautiful baby boy of theirs. While she had already had another child, Marlène fell into a deep, dark depression over the child she loved so much being taken away from her by the cold hands of death. She wanted her baby back. Everyone always told her that it was time to move on, but she couldn't accept that. She wanted her baby back. Marlène discovered dark arts. She began shutting herself away in her studies, reading and practicing on things that should never be touched. The longer she spent alone in her despair, her desperation over bringing her darling child back only grew. Her second son never saw much of her in those days; at least, not until she started to involve him... She died of a mysterious illness in her early forties.

Father - Abel Durant
Abel had always been a simple man. He grew up in an average household with a single brother who was younger than him. His father was cruel and distant while his mother was bright and kind. Both of them taught him a lot about how the world worked. His father taught him discipline and how to run a business, as well as how to take a hit whenever it was given to him for making a mistake. It wasn't uncommon back then to be beaten by the man of the household, however, so Abel tried not to complain much. The same went for his brother. While his brother went off to do things of his own, Abel used what he learned to succeed in the world. Around the time he met his wife-to-be, he was already moving up in the ladder of success. They had enough money to send him to a school for business, where he learned how to run and manage a chain of hotels. This business made him and his wife wealthy, especially when they had their first child together.

Abel was proud of his child. He was excited to teach him the ways of the world much like his parents had done with him, only in a less physical way because he was never as cruel as his father. He was kind, but professional. He rarely laughed, but he knew how to take care of his family. He was proud of what he had, what he made for himself. When his first child died, it was hard on both him and his wife, but after a while of mourning, he thought it was acceptable to move on, to focus on their other child. His wife never seemed to think the same. He consoled her in her time of despair as much as he could, but eventually, he had to return to work and couldn't always be there for her. After finding out what she'd done, he wish he'd made the time for his family, but it was already too late for that. He died of old age in his early seventies.

Older Brother - Leon Durant
Leon lived to be fourteen years old. He was a happy boy, content with the life given to him. He got all the toys he asked for and both his parents seemed to love him very much. His father taught him about business and told him he should work to succeed him some day and, while he was still only a child, Leon never thought there was anything wrong with that. He planned to go along with the path his parents had chosen for him. He enjoyed his younger brother. They played together almost constantly, although it was almost painfully obvious who the favorite was. He supposed being first born gave him that privilege, but he always made sure to give his brother all the love he could. Unfortunately, Leon died in a car crash shortly after his fourteenth birthday.

Personal History:
"It was a long, long time ago..."

Lucien Durant was a normal boy, born in France a long time ago. His family was moderately wealthy. They had a large house, two stories, with plenty of rooms to explore. He was a moderately happy child, but quiet. He never really had much to say about anything and seemed content to follow the plans others had for him. If someone told him they were going to the park, then they were going to go to the park, and he was usually just fine with that. He never really had any serious thoughts for himself. He rarely acted out and always did what his parents told him, although he never seemed to be very good at anything in particular.

Doing his always laundry meant clothes would be scrunched up and shoved into drawers and washing windows meant smudges and fingerprints. Whenever he was invited to play a game, he usually ended up being the one who lost first, and in sports, he rarely ever got picked because he was the worst at them. He was okay when it came to studying, but nothing exceptional. He was the child the Durants never really had anything to say about. He was nothing good, nothing bad, he was just there. He was just their son. They didn't seem to mind that he was this way considering he was the youngest of the two. Their elder son, Leon, was the apple of their eyes. He was the one who was going to go places. Leon learned cooking from his mother and business from his father. He aced all his tests. He tried his hardest in sports. He spent time with Lucien when he had it, but even from a young age, Leon had been busy with being meant for great things.

One day, while the brothers were out playing in the yard, Lucien threw the ball too hard. It went way out of bounds and he said he would go get it, but Leon told him that he was supposed to stay in the yard because he was too young to stray very far from the house. Leon was fourteen at the time, Lucien was nearly ten. Neither of them could have seen it coming. When the car slammed into Leon, it screeched to a halt, but it was too late and the poor boy had died. Lucien immediately went to his parents, never having been so worked up over something in his entire life, and when they went out to see, they were devastated.

"Nothing was really the same after that..."

They all mourned their loss. Leon's funeral was the most miserable thing Lucien had ever experienced. However, the boy hadn't been buried in a graveyard. Marlène demanded her son be buried in their big, spacious backyard. It wasn't the strangest request for the time, so it was allowed and nobody ever really thought anything of it. It would be easier for a grieving mother to go see her son whenever she liked from the convenience of her backyard. Abel returned to work after a while and everything seemed like it should return to normal, as normal as it could after something like that anyway, just didn't.

Leon's death was the first death Lucien ever witnessed or knew about. His grandparents were both still alive as well as all his aunts and uncles. He didn't know how he was supposed to deal with it. He'd already been quiet before, but without his brother around to guide him, he lost even more interest in talking. Nobody ever wanted to hear what he had to say anyway. His father tried to keep some sort of normalcy in the home whenever he could, but he worked a lot and most of his time at home was spent trying to keep his wife from falling into a depression.

Lucien was left to his own devices for quite a while. He spent at least two years in that cycle, where nobody ever really paid any attention to him and his mother kept herself locked away, with his father trying to toggle comforting her and taking care of everything else since she'd dropped her job. Eventually, because of her not working, they had to move. Marlène was miserable. Her baby was buried in the backyard. She couldn't possibly think of moving away. If they moved, she would never get to see him again. He would be gone forever. But in the end, she couldn't have what she wanted and they were forced to move into a smaller house further away. Things seemed to go back to how they were before, but Lucien noticed his mother no longer locked herself away as often as she used to. She seemed cheerier, somehow, and while he didn't think everything was quite right with her, he smiled whenever they passed each other.

"God, I wish I could've known what she was up to..."

One day, while looking for his mother, Lucien wandered into her study room. Nobody was ever allowed in there, but he was hungry and he needed to find her. He came across a coffin, scratched up and speckled with dirt. It wreaked of so many things he couldn't even describe and the latches that kept it closed had all been broken off. He was old enough to recognize the coffin. Seeing it in such an out of place area, or seeing it at all, had stunned him silent. His mother found him and she'd screamed and shouted and cursed at him over and over again, and even though he cried because he was scared and confused, she seemed to refuse to let up. However, at some point, she grew silent. She very quietly told Lucien she loved him and sent him on his way as if nothing had happened, but that was not something Lucien could simply forget.

His mother started coddling him. She started spending more time with him than she ever had before, even before Leon's death. She started babying him and spoiling him with gifts. He tried to enjoy it, but it was off and weird and he didn't trust her. When she decided he was old enough, she finally brought him back to her study and explained her plans. She told him she wanted her Leon back to life and the only way she could do that was through these dark magics she'd been studying for years and years. She told Lucien there was a ritual for it and that she needed him to help with it. Lucien was scared and lonely and wanted to beg for her to give it up, but he knew if he told her no, she would never forgive him, so he agreed.
On his fourteenth birthday, she tried the first thing. It cost Lucien a lot of blood and he thought he was going to die, but he didn't. He woke up in bed the day after his birthday, scared and alone and confused. His mother refused to even look in his direction for the longest time and he never even understood what happened. All he knew was that whatever she'd tried, it had failed. He was sure his skin should be marked with all the damage done the day before for the ritual his mother tried on him, but when he checked, his skin was clear. He tried to avoid her for the longest time. He considered running away, but being on his own made him feel just as sick as being stuck in the house. His father had no idea what was going on and Lucien didn't have the stomach to tell him. For a while, things were just like that. Nothing happened. He and his mother avoided each other.

"I lived in fear, and then I..."

A month after Lucien turned sixteen, he woke up in the study. His mother was crazy and pale. She had lost her mind obsessing over getting her Leon back to life. She told Lucien that she was sorry, but Leon was her first born, her most precious, and that he could never understand her pain as a mother for losing him, nobody could. She wanted to replace Lucien. A life for a life, she said. Leon's body had decomposed beyond repair, even through magical ways. That was always the problem, she went on. She was using the wrong body.

Lucien had run from his mother. He didn't understand anything about witchcraft or dark magic. He didn't understand why she couldn't just let it go that her son had died. He didn't know why he wasn't enough for her, why she didn't love him as much as she loved Leon, why she needed to replace him with the one who had died. He got away from her that day and locked himself in his room, but he'd panicked. She wasn't going to let him go. If he fell asleep, she would get him. She would do something to him. She had made his life miserable and full of fear. He couldn't handle it anymore. He didn't want to be a replacement. He didn't understand magic, but he didn't want his body to be taken by somebody else's, even if that somebody was Leon. He didn't care about anything besides getting rid of the pain and getting away from his mother.

So, before his mother could get to him, Lucien took care of it first. He killed himself and ruined her chances of ever getting what she wanted. Unfortunately, death wasn't where everything ended.

"When I woke up, I was a Grim Reaper."


"Have you ever wondered what the worst thing could ever be? Some say there are things out there worse than death and, personally, I would have to agree. I've experienced more than a single one of those things, so is it terrible of me to want to move on? Does it make me a bad person to care for myself? My crimes are regretful, but my cause was, in a way, just. Or maybe that's just me lying to myself."

♟Contrary to popular belief, Reapers can not kill living beings through physical contact. They can't kill anyone, actually. Well, they aren't given any specific powers or abilities to do so, anyway. They could kill someone the same way anyone else could, but they would get into immense trouble. Nobody really actually knows for sure what happens to a Reaper if they kill someone who wasn't supposed to die, but there are a few rumors that they are stripped of their status and taken to the beyond to truly die. They take the souls to the beyond after the body has already died of whatever caused it to die.

♟The idea of a Reaper being able to kill someone possibly came from the fact that they use their scythe to tap the person on the chest and that brings out their spirit. For the most part, spirits can only be brought of the body through this method (so they can't wander off while waiting for the Reaper to collect them), but sometimes there are exceptions and mishaps.

♟While each Grim Reaper is considered to be dead, they are not a ghost or a spirit. They are an entirely different being, simply, well, what they're called. While they technically can not be killed, they can still feel pain, physical and otherwise. Their strengths and weaknesses vary on who they are. Just as well, since they are dead, they don't have any need for sleeping or eating. They can get tired, but the best they can do to cure it is lay down and rest their eyes to resolve it. They can eat, too, but if they ever do it's just for pleasure and not for sustenance.

♟Malach got the idea in his head that if he did something catastrophic, he would get his status as a Grim Reaper taken from him, which, in his head, meant the same thing as being able to finally move on to the otherworld and find peace. Although everything he knew was only based on rumor, he was desperate for it. He was desperate to get out of the loop. He never asked to be a Reaper. He wanted out, no matter what. Of course, all these things were probably just him being overemotional, which wasn't anything brand new to him, but it made him irrational, so he acted on his thoughts while like this. He caused a catastrophe. He went overboard and ended up hurting a lot of people, including many of the Keepers. He broke the walls between the worlds, a forbidden act, and he isn't even sure how he managed to do it. While this was kinda-sorta his intentions all along, he deeply regrets his actions and feels awful for what he did, so while his original plan was to let himself be known for the act and get caught, all he wants to do anymore is help the Keepers clean up the huge mess he made, which he would rather do before getting caught for his crimes.

So begins...

Malach Reaper's Story