A/N: HEY GUYS! I'M BACK!

Considering I'm still a bit excited to post/reread over my story, and I'm currently writing through a very fun part, for me, in this story, I decided to post another set of chapters tonight… Though, I posted this 4th chapter right away. The other ones will show up later… or just one more? I haven't decided, yet.

Anyways, I hope you guys are enjoying where this story is going. After this, it kind of gets a tad ranty. I slowly reveal more and more, but it took me some time to do it.

And yes… it's kind of obvious what happens. You end up staying with the Undertaker, for one reason or another, for a time. Yes, yes.

But the time period? At first, I wasn't sure about it. 1880. It's a bit early for anything to happen, but it's the perfect opportunity for Clara to get introduced to a slew of characters. After all, I wish we had more Madam Red, for example, and we only see Ciel's parents except in flashbacks. That's the part of this story I'm currently writing, which is why I said earlier that the plot is a bit slow. At first, I was going to jump right in and talk about reapers and demons and, blah, blah. However, considering 'Sebastian' isn't quite in the picture yet, and there's still some time before that happens, I can spend time with the other characters. So that's fun.

But, I won't go off into a big rant.

I'm thinking… this story will probably end up as a romance between Undertaker and the OC protagonist, Clara. But, it may take a while. I know most stories, the UndertakerXOC jump into romance and kissing and stuff kind of happens quickly. Within the first few chapters, they're already in love. Well… let's just say Clara and Undertaker both have their baggage to bear. So, there you go.

And heck, if I jumped in time, I don't think I'd be very interested in romance, right off the bat.

Okay, I'll stop talking now. I hope you guys ENJOY, and thank you for READING my story, so far. Your support is greatly appreciated!

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"So you see, I'm from a terrible fated future… and… maybe I'm here to stop it from happening? Or maybe I'm the cause," you mumbled underneath your breath at your last thought before looking up and giving the man an unsure look. You told him practically everything. Well, everything having to pertain to your predicament. Not your background, but just the facts.

The fact that, some guy claiming to be your father took you away after your mother died to train you as a grim reaper. The fact that, after his death, you learned the truth about everything. About some prophecy that he was hoping could become fulfilled with you. Whatever that prophecy actually was, you don't really know, because it was around that same time everything in your life went to utter shit. Lives were lost, souls were lost… the reason why you're concerned about a bunch of kids cause they're the 'future'. It doesn't matter if you survived. Just that they did.

That's all you honestly care about, right now, but considering where you are and that you must have been thrown back through time. "… I'm not sure if this is another timeline completely or I was just put into a time where I could start changing the future. Either way, this creates a strange paradox, which makes me concerned that my world really did end," you decided to continue, but noticing his silence you looked over at him with a frown adorning your face. "So… what do you think?"

"Hmmm?" he questioned you, letting a soft hum leave his breath while you let a snort leave your own.

"You must think I'm crazy, right? A loon. Made this all up. Want proof or something," you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at him from across the table. "Come on. I'm tired of you reapers giving me the silent treatment all the time. Just tell me what you're thinking already," you growled lowly, but your irritation only grew, just slightly, at the slight, but weak sounding giggle that left his breath at your words.

"Reapers… huh. I suppose we are a rather aloof set of creatures," he snickered to himself, your eyes narrowing, but before you could open your mouth he sighed and sat up in his chair. "Fine. Child. If you wish to hear my thoughts, I think this is all rather absurd –"

"See," you mumbled, but he continued as if you hadn't interrupted him with your own side comment.

"However… if everything you said is true, it would explain your weird clothing," he told you, and you couldn't help but give him an unsure look.

"Ah… where did my clothes go?"

"Decided to burn them, but I checked your pockets, just in case. I didn't find anything of value. Was there something precious in the clothes?" he asked in a curious tone, but you simply sat back in your chair and pouted.

"No. Not really… it's just a matter of time, I suppose," you spoke cryptically, not giving him a chance to ask what you meant as you continued, "but, other then my school clothes, there isn't a lot of evidence, is there? I doubt my death weapon was beside me when I woke up."

"Oooh~? And what makes you say that?" he smirked, but you shook your head at his question.

"I didn't obtain my weapon through the Grim Reaper Association… if that's what you call that group in this day and age. No, I summoned it on my own. Used my own soul energy. It's as connected to me as breathing and water," you stated, patting your chest to emphasize your point, and noticing his intrigued look, you continued with a scoff, "I am half reaper, you know."

"Perhaps, but such a practice of creating one's death scythe out of your soul was deemed too dangerous, by the high council –"

"It may be dangerous, but it's necessary. A weapon created by hands of man and a weapon created by your own soul have two distinctive properties. Sure, weapons grim reapers tend to use can be utilized easily. You can swap weapons if the fighting calls for it. You don't have to keep it with you at all times, but a soul weapon is ten times more powerful. Much more lethal, but most importantly it can take down an angelic or demonic force with ease. I don't need to cut into the damn thing ten thousand times and say some stupid little prayer to do so. It's quick, easy, and effective," you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you slumped back into your chair, but your anger dissipated as a different thought entered your mind. "… Besides. I wouldn't be able to fight if I hadn't created my own weapon through my own soul. Those stuck up assholes weren't going to give me a death weapon. I had to figure it out, through my own means."

"Interesting," he responded with a slight hum of his breath, giving you a curious look before continuing, "was it because you were a female?"

"That's probably half of the problem," you scoffed, recalling the arguments you had gotten into, even with your own father, but you used to feel bad. It's just an old way of thinking that needed to end, if he kept hoping you'd be some sort of salvation for them. "Even in my time, with women's rights and such, these ancient butts insisted that women needed to stand on the sidelines while the men wielded the death weapons. Well, their ways had been stomped out by the female reapers eventually. A whole group of them even went rogue and disappeared into the human world, remerging as some badasses, practically like Amazonian warriors from ancient times," you smiled at the thought before continuing with a snort. "But when everything did turn into shit, even the women had to pick up weapons to fight. Considering they weren't trained to do so, a lot more fell to the claws of demons and the swords of angels then the men.

"For all you reapers saying that you're smart and retain knowledge, you are just as narrowminded and stupid as any other creature I've met," you finished with a huff, but he could only snicker lightly in response.

"True, true. Reapers can be very set in their ways… What sort of death scythe is it?" he asked curiously, but noticing the darkened look that overcame your features at the question, his lips closed as he thought of something else to ask, only for you to sigh deeply and rub the side of your forehead in irritation, or perhaps tiredness.

"It's not necessary for you to know. Besides, I'm still recovering. I cannot handle summoning my weapon at a moment's whim like a regular grim reaper. Until I'm at 100%, it's best I just… take it easy," you smiled meekly before slumping your arms onto the table, sighing as you plopped your head onto one of your hands. You eyed him from across the table with a curious gleam in your own gaze. "… So… How do you even live in an era like this? What is it? The… 19th century? Dear God, I'm going to have to act like a snooty stuck up Brit, aren't I?" you pouted at the thought, but hearing your thoughts out loud made the man snicker in response, causing your frown to only deepen. "I'm being serious."

"Brit? Are you not British?" he giggled lightly, causing you to pause before you gave him a slight smirk in return.

"No. No I'm not. Born and raised in the good old U.S. of A… I'm American," you stated, bluntly when he seemed to be staring at you blankly, before you scoffed and continued, "I'm from the United States of America, though I'm not quite sure the state I'm from has been founded yet… I think so. But I was forced to move after my mother died, though I do enjoy the rough accents you Brits have," you smirked lightly before giving him a curious look. "Why? Do I act like I'm from jolly old England~ or something?"

"Not at all, but if you're wondering… Perhaps you should tell people you are a foreigner, to make our customs easier to digest and understand," he told you with a smile, but all you could do is scoff and shake your head as you looked back to the food still on his plate.

"… Are you really willing to let me stick around as an apprentice?" you decided to ask, a thoughtful look lining your face as he cast you a curious glance from the other side of the table. "To be honest with you, I never was fond of being a reaper. It was purely out of necessity… Plus, I've worked with corpses before, if you're wondering. Maybe it's luck I ended up in a mortuary, of all places, though you may not use the same tools I did," you decided to say, letting out a light thoughtful hum before giving him a curious glance. "… Well? I mean, I get that you gave me a choice, and for that I am thankful, but I don't want to overstay my welcome."

"I wouldn't have offered the position if I thought you wouldn't be helpful," he smirked, causing you to cast him an annoyed glance as he continued with a grin on his face, "but~… you know your way around corpses, you say?"

"I spent a lot of time around the dead, but I actually did some mortuary work when I was in middle school. So… at least four years? Probably five?" you told him, thinking for a moment before continuing, "But if you want something else… you're going to have to be specific. Yes, you've been helping me out and I'm grateful, but if you demand something rather impossible I'm going to have to refuse," you scoffed, but your words made him giggle at a particular thought, before he sighed, picked at his plate, and plopped some food into his mouth and chewed before giving you a reply.

"Truthfully? You're an utter delight to be around," he grinned, but seeing your skeptical response he continued, "you're interesting responses and words are hilarious~. So, all I'll ask for is for some laughter from your presence, and you could help me around the shop a bit. I'll provide a place to sleep and some food to eat. What do you think?" he offered, your eyes giving him an unsure glance before you sighed, shrugged, and slowly sat up in your chair.

"Just that? Nothing more? Like, you're not going to expect me to be your bodyguard or something? Or to act all 'proper'," you scoffed, giving him air quotes as you continued, "or even expect me to kill humans for you or something? Or even have sex with you? Cause I'm not in the mood to be played like that," you huffed. "I've had enough of being forced to do things I don't particularly like doing, but if you want jokes or something, I suppose I could try that," you decided to say, waiting for his response to your concerns.

You were met with a light chuckle, of course, before he sighed, grinning in delight, and shook his head at you. "All I ask is for some laughter and for some work to be done around the shop. That's about it."

"Really?" you scoffed, but instead of grinning he only gave you a curious look.

"Why do you think the worst of my intentions~?" he asked, causing you to pause before giving him a pout in response. "I can only repeat myself so many times~"

"Because from what I've seen, everyone just wants to use me and they never respect me as a human being. Or even just a creature, for that matter. Reapers, demons, angels, whatever. So sorry if I cannot believe you," you told him, bluntly, a bit too bluntly for your own liking, but you needed to. Had to. He asked so… why lie, at this point? You already showed your hand, all the cards in your hands. It's not like you can really hide anything else. Maybe some minor details, but nothing more than that.

"Maybe in due time," he responded, though he seemed to be talking to himself instead of directly at you, and he stood to his feet, giving you a grin before snatching your already eaten plate, and made his way to the sink to wash the dishes. "If you wish, you may start tomorrow. I understand how antsy reapers can be with new jobs."

"… Thanks," you decided to say, not sure if you should be happy about the thought of finally doing something productive, or annoyed that you have to work tomorrow. "… Sorry. I just figured I should be direct, is all," you apologized, realizing your behavior has been rather rude, but sometimes you just need to be. You don't like beating around the bush, like so many others tend to do.

"I do not mind, but you don't have to apologize whenever you think you're doing something wrong," he responded, causing you to give him a curious look, but he simply grinned as he made his way back to you, leaving the dirty dishes sitting in the sink as he suddenly held out a covered hand towards you. "Now, my dear, perhaps I should show~ you around the shop. I wouldn't want you getting lost~~" he giggled, causing you to scoff at his words, but cautiously accept the hand he offered to you.

He noticed your hesitation, but he didn't shy away as you used his hand to help yourself out of the chair. You cast him a weary, skeptical look, but he simply grinned, holding out his hand for you to walk out the door, first, and with a reluctant glance you did so, patiently waiting for him to follow behind you before you dared to continue down the dark, rather narrow hallways this building seemed to have.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

You were honestly surprised how spacious the place was. Three floors, if you count the basement where most of the bodies are being kept, the second floor being used for living quarters while the ground floor was another work space, as well as a receiving room for anyone that could possibly stop by.

But, what really relaxed your anxiety was the back door. You didn't realize there was a back door, a bit hidden around a corner where coats and shoes could be placed to not dirty the already old floorboards, but it was the only building down the street that led outside into a cemetery. You assumed this is where most of the bodies are placed, or at least the ones that are miscellaneous and have no real family to claim them. Rows upon rows of graves, some marked, some barely marked, lined the hillsides in perfect unison. There was a tool shed where most of the tools for the graveyard are kept, and even a little stable where you found an old wooden cart… but no animal to pull the cart.

How disappointing.

But it was the cemetery itself that made you smile, and you didn't wait for permission to go exploring. Of course, you accepted the boots and coat he gave you to wear, but the moment that was over with, you were off.

It like being home again! In the far off corner of the cemetery, where you assumed the oldest of the gravesites lay, was a little chapel for funeral services, and probably daily services as well. There were a few family mausoleums fairly close to the chapel, but as you walked further, deeper into the overgrown brush and the drooping trees, you found much older, abandoned gravesites. Some with their letterings washed away by the elements, while a few others you could faintly read. It look… like an old form of English, or maybe some other language. Like maybe Celtic or whatever. Your curiosity was enough to make you wonder if you should try to find a book on reading runes and other old 'dead' languages, but you stopped as you noticed a particular tree, sitting up on the highest hill in the cemetery. Like it was a bounty line between the old graves, hidden away in the overgrown wilderness and left behind for the elements, and the nearer graves, probably kept in tact and upkept by the Undertaker himself… or someone else. Maybe paid for by the church, perhaps.

But you found yourself stopping at the top of the hill, inspecting the tree with a strange sense of curiosity. A large, great oak tree, and to think such a thing will be cut down in the near future. The thought made you sad for a moment, before you smiled to yourself, glancing around to oversee both the graves, the back of the large buildings, and even a few blocks further into London.

You must be on the edge of the city. That's the only way you could have such a view! And behind you were grassy pastures and patches of untapped land. Land that'll probably be bought and sold by nobles, to be used for factories or farming or whatever else.

You couldn't help yourself. Out of all the time you've spent in this time period, this is the only thing that seemed to bring a comfort to you. A cemetery. A graveyard. No matter where you go or what you have to do, if you need to have a quiet place to think over your thoughts, any graveyard will do. It's such a quiet place… a bit abandoned, sometimes, but always quiet. Always soothing. While others would think it's creepy, you think this is your peace. Your true home. Because… no matter how many times you have to pack up your belongings and begin anew, a cemetery is always the same. Always has the same presence.

Death.

Death is always here, always lingering. A perfect boundary point between the living and the dead. The humans and… everything else. If you were ever running from a demon, a gravesite always stopped them. As if there's some invisible wall they simply cannot pass through… Well, they could, but not when you step inside. It's your place of security. And… maybe…

Maybe you can learn to be okay with this… strange place. Everything always feels so strange, these days.

You weren't surprised to notice a familiar presence coming closer. Usually, you'd be utterly terrified. Like any human, confused and startled. But this time, you could tell he was coming. You didn't even have to look over to notice the pale man, veiled in darkness, making his way up the hill with a grin on his face. You couldn't tell if he found this amusing or he was simply curious, but you gave him a glance before turning away, staring off at a slowly setting sun over the horizon before you sighed contently to yourself. "I was worried, after everything, that I lost something. I'm glad I didn't… I could tell you were approaching, you know," you smirked in his direction, completely content and happy with your heightened abilities, and he gave you another giggling snicker before finally making his way to the top of the hill.

"Is that what has been bothering you?" he asked, or perhaps stated, but as you leaned into the trunk of the tree, feeling a strange warmth radiating from the bark as the bare branches attempted to give you a bit of shade from the sunlight, he gave you a curious glance, expecting a response, but when you didn't give him one he let his own light smile appear on his own face. "You're like a child."

"So I've been told," you scoffed in annoyance, but then you glanced over at him and gave him a light smile. "I mean, I bet I am, compared to one of you. Even the little munchkins were years ahead of me. Though, doesn't mean they're more intelligent then myself," you decided to say, causing a snicker to leave his breath.

"Munchkins~?"

"Sorry. Kids," you decided to say, but hearing him snickering you turned and gave him a scoff. "Hey. Don't insult me by snickering."

"I apologize," he grinned, though you could tell he was holding back a giggle, and you sighed, glancing away, eventually feeling your frustration melting away and being replaced with a content serenity.

You could tell he was eying you curiously. Maybe suspiciously, but it's not like you cared. Not now, while you're in a perfect spot. Where no worries bothered you, at least not as much as they usually do. You slowly closed your eyes. If you could, you'd sleep here forever. Never worrying about the future, the past, the present, whatever. Having no cares in the world. An eternal slumber… it sounds so nice, but you know it cannot be so. Not yet. It's not your time.

Slowly, you let your eyes flicker open, and you could feel a strange overwhelming power radiating out of your body, but you didn't let yourself feel panicked. Or frightened. Rather, you were content as you began to say, "It's times like now I'm glad I'm a human. At least, I didn't commit myself to being a full fletched reaper," you decided to say, mainly for yourself then anyone else, but when you glanced over you noticed the man was staring at you intently, and you gave him a curious, but lighthearted grin. "Want to say~ something?"

"… I can see how your part grim," he decided to say, the strange tone in his voice causing you to blush just slightly, but suddenly you felt a bony finger on your chin, forcing you to tilt your head upward so he could see right into your eyes.

But you blinked. First, out of utter confusion and irritation, but the next from slight surprise. You could see his bright shinigami eyes, staring right into your own gaze. Two different shades of greenish gold, separated by a double iris. The same for all grim reapers, but if you look closely, there is a slight difference. His eyes seemed… old. Wise. Bright and ancient. A perfect glowing swirl of both lightened emerald green and sharp golden.

It was strangely hypnotic… but you slowly pulled away, after you finally broke the strange trance by blinking and taking a step backward, to give you some much needed distance.

"You're a lot older then I thought," you had to admit in a curious tone, causing the man to smirk and then snicker lightly at your observation.

"And you, my dear, are quite interesting yourself."

"How so?" you decided to ask, leaning back against the comforting tree to give him a glance, letting your bangs sway to cover parts of your face and shield some of the heightened senses you suddenly had. Not that you needed to really see in perfect 20/20 vision, but still.

"It's… been a while since I've seen a human so entuned with the dead. I understand you were born by a woman, fathered by a reaper, but even so, I haven't seen something quite like yourself in a very~ long time," he told you, your eyes staring at his face for a brief moment, even seeing past his white veil to stare into his own reaper gaze, but then you looked away and smiled meekly to yourself.

"I was a last attempt to write all wrongs. Make the world right again. Avoid a doomsday, but, everything your kind and other creatures have done will eventually cause the end of days. By the time I'm born, it's too late… Though, sometimes I wonder if one could still live in such a decrepit state. There are tales from other mythologies of 'three' or 'five' different worlds humans pass through. Maybe another age was going to be created. I don't know," you shrugged, hoping that was honestly the case. That you hadn't condemned everything to brimstone and ashes. To terror and hellfire.

"My father… doesn't, or rather didn't, care about who I was as a human. He needed a savior… that just wasn't me. The plan these reapers made produced nothing. Just half breeds that couldn't accomplish the overwhelming plans they cooked up. Even if anyone survived, in the end, that doesn't mean the world will be the same again," you frowned, recalling all the training you had to do, the secrets you kept, and still have to keep, close to your person. Slowly, you closed your eyes and sighed, a tired tone in your voice. "I'm… tired. I may not even be twenty years old, but I'm just tired of everything. The demands, expectations… I don't care if I'm strong or not. I never felt like I belong anywhere, anyways," you scoffed, suddenly standing upright before turning to look over at the Undertaker, and you gave him a curious look. "Now that I think about it… you've seen creatures like myself? Where? How? N-no seems quite like me."

"Hmm… you could say they are humans, who called themselves demi-gods, and expected a hero's death," he began, your eyes betraying your thoughts as you stared at him utterly confused, but he continued with a light hearted chuckle, "I mean, if I were to take a guess, this father of yours attempted to use you as a way to right the wrongs the grim reapers started. Maybe he read some ancient textbook or something, but such knowledge of old is off limits… for most," he smirked deviously, causing you to give him a curious look before you turned to look at him fully, your hand leaning upon the tree to keep yourself upright as you offset your balance.

"Then, I couldn't just be the only one? There could be others out there just as odd as I am?" you asked, a suddenly hopeful tone in your voice, and you could tell your questions weren't what he was expecting, as he stared, a bit startled, before giving you a light, but sad smile in return.

"A certain set of… steps and procedures need to take place, but yes. The possibility of extremely strong reapers are possible, but the way your predecessor did it…" he paused, perhaps wondering if he should tell you or not, but then he continued in a calm, calculating tone of voice. "You have the ability to die, sooner then any reaper. You can live your life as a human, without ever having to worry about magic or power, but the moment you began to train like a grim reaper, to hone any skills you may possess, your human life was shortened."

"… Yeah," you scoffed, deciding to respond as you waved your free hand at his words, "I know that. I'm not expecting to live past forty, even if I reach that point. Still, you said human life. D-don't tell me there's more after this existence," you frowned. The thought of living any longer then you expected was maddening, to you.

"Well," he began, deciding to respond to put your mind at relative ease, "even if you've summoned a death scythe from your very soul, it doesn't mean you'll become a reaper in the end. Grim reapers, us deathlings, are created because of our own choices and sins. In fact, if you kill yourself, right now, at this moment, a degree of your own powers will disappear into nothingness. Probably a reason why you've been told to not commit suicide, I'm guessing," he decided to say, a thoughtful look on his face as he continued, "but, there is a catch."

"W-what?" you had to ask, not liking the foreboding tone in his voice. You were grateful he was doing this, telling you this information, but that doesn't mean you're excited to hear everything. You know, or rather understand, some knowledge is best kept secret.

And… this may be one of those secrets that would have been best kept in the dark.

"If… well, firstly, if you hear a particular voice in your head –"

"Death," you stated, bluntly, causing the man to pause for a moment before continuing, though his tone of voice seemed a bit sterner and unnerving.

"If you hear… yes, Death, in your head, and the world, especially the children of Death, are in desperate need of a powerful entity…"

"… W-what? Please, don't stop. I need to know this," you asked, stated. Had to say. You could tell he was hesitating, but you needed the question answered, not more questions. This reaper knows more then what he's letting on, at first, and you need to know the answer. Now.

"Considering what you told me, you were bred and trained to be reborn, after your death, as an overpowered grim reaper. A death that could take out almost any star in the sky and any darkness in the abyss. I mean, while Death may be in your head, as long as it doesn't possess you, you should be fine," he grinned, hoping his ending conclusion to the problem was enough to put you at ease. "If Death isn't using you as a messenger for the living, then you should be allowed to die. Like any other human. After some time has passed."

But, as he saw that you weren't responding, he took a cautious step over, close enough that he wasn't exactly right in front of your face, but close to the point that you could feel his looming presence right in front of your slightly trembling body. "… Lara? Did I say too much, perhaps? I doubt –"

"Possession… Y-you sure that's the reason? What? Is it like Death claims you or something? Like a slave?" you frowned, looking up at him, but noticing his slightly startled look you quickly wiped a stray tear away, feeling your reaper energy dissipating as you began to feel hesitant by the entire thing, but… it would explain some stuff. A lot of things you were taught that you felt was… strange. Even for a grim reaper's child.

"Slave is a harsh word –"

"But it is, isn't it? You wake up, exhausted and confused, and wonder what happened, only for others to think you're some oracle sent to give them some reassuring words. Right?" Your tone was a bit sharper then you wanted it to be, but you didn't care. "Then… that's what they wanted. For me to eventually die and get reborn, probably forgetting my past life, again. Again, and again. Reliving and never dying and never getting any sort of real peace," you pouted, quickly swiping some stray tears away from your face.

The world felt so… cruel, now. Why can't you just get to die like everyone else? You want to, you really do. That's why you would fight with sweet abandon, without a care as you cut down your enemies, but… if what he's saying is true…

"… I am a monster, then," you stated, rather then questioned, but before you knew it you could feel arms suddenly wrapping around you, pulling your body off of the tree and into strangely warm, comforting arms. Usually, you'd be angry, but right now… you were too tired to care.

"I should have stopped while I was ahead," he responded, sighing to himself, "so, I'll apologize," he continued, hoping his words would bring you just the slightest bit of comfort.

Sadly, they didn't. "… You didn't know. It's okay, I guess," you decided to say, a bit unsure if you should accept his apology or not, but instead you slumped into his grasp, enjoying his warmth before suddenly pulling away and giving him a meek smirk. "But I mean, hey. I'm not dead yet. So I suppose I won't have to worry about such a thing happening to me," you smiled, weakly, but at least you were smiling.

You guess.

It was enough to cause the man to smile in response, though you had a feeling it was also forced. "Yes. You are alive… Perhaps we should go back inside, into the warmth," he told you, hoping to pull you away from the terrible conversation the two of you had.

Again.

Seriously, what's with this guy? Ever since you met him it's been one bad conversation over and over again. Telling him too much and learning too much. Nothing is going right, is it? You just can't be happy.

But, you didn't argue or complain as you were pulled away, lightly, down the hill and back towards the back door to the mortuary building. "I was~ thinking, since you'll be my little assistant, perhaps we should have you fitted for some new clothes, as well."

"What's wrong with my own look?" you responded with a scoff, eagerly accepting an excuse to have a different conversation, one that wasn't about the topic of Death and the apocalypse or any sort of doomsday.

"You have no clothes," he stated, as if your question was stupid to ask, but you scoffed and continued.

"I don't like dresses," you responded, recalling that this era, if you're remembering your history correctly, should be around the time of the Victorian era. Where rules were strict and cumbersome, and the thought of wearing a dress every day, and especially a corset, caused a disgusted and irritated look to overcome your features.

But noticing your foul response, he giggled at your rising irritation as he continued, "Perhaps. Yes. A proper lady should always have some decent clothes to wear, but you were wearing a skirt and white blouse, with a sweater. I could see a lot of leg," he responded, grinning crudely as you gave him a swift irritated punch in the arm right next to your own, unable to stop your natural reflexes to fight back, but since he didn't seem mad, only giggled in response, you decided to retort.

"It was my school girl outfit, if you must know. I prefer pants, actually. I don't have to worry about anyone seeing too much," you stated, pushing down the nightgown you were wearing on instinct.

He smirked in reply. "Your time must be an interesting~ one," he snickered, but you scoffed, suddenly prying your hand away from his, and continuing down the dirt path a bit more quickly then you'd like, with your arms crossed over your chest as you rushed towards the door.

"It was fine. Perfect, even. Anyways, do I have a choice in my clothing or not?" you huffed, but he shrugged his shoulders.

"Perhaps~. I'll be requesting a seamstress to come by the shop within the week. In the meantime you'll have to wear the clothes of the dead," he stated, causing you to look at the gown you were wearing, but you gave him an unimpressed look at the devious grin written all over his face.

Ah. He wanted you to freak out. Well, joke's on him. "Fine. Maybe there's a pair of slacks or something I can put on," you stated rather bluntly, surprising him as you swiftly opened the door, plopping the coat he had given you back on the coatrack, before turning on your clunky boots as he stepped back into the small cubby area. "Where can I find these clothes?"

"Downstairs –"

"Great," you responded, not bothering to give him a second glance. You grinned to yourself, glad that you won this round. You surprised him enough that he was responding like a normal being, and you could finally not get laughed at.

It may be one solid victory out of a sea of defeats and draws, but you'll take the win where you can get it.

And, heck, it's amusing to trip up a grim reaper like this. That's for sure.