A/N: HEY GUYS! I've been feeling a bit later lately, so I decided to review another chapter… or two. I finally got back into writing, and whatever I was sick with, hopefully it's passed.
And finally, a new OC reaper has shown up! I've been thinking of having the others appear, eventually… but in the timeline, I'm not quite ready for that. Yet. So, here's another sneak peek to the problems the reapers are facing, but more importantly what Clara is doing.
Nothing, honestly. Nothing worthwhile, but something to do.
Anyways, I hope to have another chapter posted soon. Maybe it'll be in a few hours, but I want to take a walk and enjoy the fresh air. So, ENJOY YOURSELVES! And see you in the next chapter.
! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !
You sighed as you sat in the living room, feet propped up upon the armrest with a sketchbook in your hands, and a pencil scribbling against the delicate piece of paper. It… wasn't the best, but it was something to do. Drawing. Sketching. It was a way to think over your thoughts, during some much needed free time.
After all, you were waiting for the pot roast to be done, and Undertaker was in the basement, working on some particular guests that needed extra care. So, sketching while you wait was something to do, at least. It wasn't the best thing to spend your time doing, but it's something.
You spent your time sketching the scenery. Things you've liked. Mainly, the graveyard. It's like taking a picture, except much, much longer. And less clear, but it was something to do. You've sketched different parts of the cemetery, the inside of the mortuary, and then you began to sketch whatever fit your fancy. A few skulls. An organ or two sitting in jars. Then, your past. At least, what you can remember. A sports car. A cell phone. Your old American town house, and then your old Japanese house… to the best of your abilities. Your memory of the past is starting to grow fuzzy. You can remember particular events and details, but certainly not images…
Which sucks. You don't want to forget everything! Sure, you live in this era now, but there's stuff you miss. A lot of things you miss.
And lastly, you began to sketch clothes you wish you could wear. First, articles of clothing you recall wearing and matching together, perfecting the design in the sketchbook, and then you went a step further to clothing styles you wish you had owned, but never bought. After all, you don't need to have a closet full of clothes. You didn't have the money and time to care, too much, but there are designs you miss. Like, trying out the gothic look. You kind of had the black hair already, but you weren't into the style… but you did go through a phase. So it's too bad you missed out on wearing more gothic clothes.
Maybe you could find something with skulls?
But before you could start sketching a particular skull head that has been in your mind for quite a while, you heard the bell on the front door ding, and you sighed, setting your stuff down on a nearby night stand, quickly turning off the stove so the pot roast doesn't burn, before making your way downstairs and into the parlor room.
Who you say made you pause.
"… Michael," you spoke, a slightly surprised tone in your voice as he turned from his nearby inspection of a dark mahogany casket, before turning to you and giving you a light smile.
"Lara. I'm glad to see you're doing well. I have a delivery," he grinned, holding up a small black duffle bag with a white imprinted skull on the front, but instead of handing it over, he let out a surprised 'oof' as your body collided into his, and you grabbed him into a tight hug.
"You ass! Just a, you're doing well~? Aren't you surprised I'm alive?" you scoffed, but you kept hugging him before you calmly let him go, grabbing the duffle bag and opening it up with a curious gleam in your eyes, and a devious grin on your face. "Ah! Great. I needed some new inhalers."
"I assumed," he smirked slightly at your enthusiasm, pausing for a moment before glancing towards your front door, before turning back to you and sighing deeply to himself. "I want to… apologize," he began, but as he continued he watched as you paid him no real attention, sitting down on a nearby coffin to set the duffle bag on your lap, leafing through the other items with a keen interest. "We thought you had died… I mean, you weren't even breathing. Humans breathe, Lara. You're an anomaly amongst the normality."
"Perhaps, but I'm sure I would be dead if it wasn't for my current boss," you stated, before noticing a small bag filled with tampons, and you sighed gratefully at the sight. Every 'time of the month' has been a nightmare, and you're sure a certain someone~ was thinking of you when you were given this little supply bag. "… Oh! You even kept my hidden knives. Nice."
"You really think we'd let our enemies have grim reaper weapons?" he scoffed, pausing for a moment before slowly sitting down upon a casket across from you, eying you until you stopped looking through the bag, to give him a frown.
"… What?"
"Have you been well? Be serious. That reaper Rosie saw you with… she's concerned. In fact, I wanted to make sure you're happy here," he continued, watching you with a critical gaze, but your eyes narrowed suspiciously as you noticed his bright shinigami gaze behind soft locks of blonde hair.
"… I've been well. In fact, I kind of owe him. What? I should be skeptical? And what's with you guys?" you scoffed in annoyance, casually crossing one leg on top of the other while you placed the duffle bag beside you on the coffin. "You know all the times I risked my life, but here you are playing it safe? What in the seven hells is your problem? Pah! I would have assumed, considering you thought I was dead, that you'd do everything in your power to convince these reapers to change. But nooo~. The orphans are still in the slums, reapers are as arrogant as ever, and you're just lucky I haven't gone up there and gave them a piece of my mind!" you growled, almost standing to your feet, but before you could he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to sit back down while you gave him an irritated glare, and a harsh snarl. "… Have you seriously done nothing?"
"We… tried, Lara. Tried very, very hard, but there's some on that council that are blunt liars. That don't want what's best for everyone else, and are selfish. They only think for themselves… Johnny and I," he continued, sighing to himself and scratching the back of his neck, "… we had to play nice. Honestly. They don't give a shit about our problems. They were going to condemn all of us, including the orphans, as rogues… The only way to protect everyone was to comply," he told you, but as he noticed the harsh glare in your eyes, he instinctively flinched. "I managed to get everyone jobs, though Rosie insists on taking care of the orphans. Her debt to you, I'm guessing. And look, I already heard enough from Teresa, so don't cuss me out too."
"Why does this have to be so hard?" you sighed, closing your eyes and putting your face in your hands, and he gave you a frown in response. "… Let me guess, you don't want my help."
"As far as the council knows, you didn't even show up. Maybe a human thrown back in time, but no. I thought it was best that they never learned you exist," he explained, causing you to frown while he pouted. "What? You want to be whisked away like everyone else? Rosie told me you wanted to be human."
"I-I… never actually said I want to. She's obviously trying to protect me," you admitted, causing the man to sigh and scratching the back of his neck in response. "… The thing is, as a human, I only have a limited amount of time to live, and I'm not letting any other child deal with the same pain I was dealt. So, are you sure, things can change if I stay out of this?" you asked, watching as he sat there, giving you a solemn look, and you sighed deeply. "Thought so."
"That doesn't mean you should feel responsible. This isn't your problem –"
"Yeah, maybe it's not, but if my father fucks some other human woman and produces another child, neglects and abuses them, why shouldn't I feel responsible if I can prevent that?" you scoffed in disgust, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared in his general direction. "I know you don't really get it, but my father has this stupid sense of duty and obligation. God, if the higher ups told him to jump off a cliff and hit the rocks, I'm sure he'd do it! So, hell, if you're not definite I'm not needed… then just admit it," you told him, sternly, patiently waiting for a response as he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before glancing away from you and leaning upon his knees.
"… Okay. Fine. You want the truth? Fine. Everyone is miserable, frustrated, and nothing is getting done. Oh sure~, I was told to be patient, but how long has it been? Months, now. Nothing has changed. Teresa hates her situation, and me for that matter, and so does Johnny. Everyone blames me. As if I can control any of this."
"What's preventing you? Fear, I'm guessing," you told him, pausing for a moment before sitting up a bit straighter and sighing once more to yourself. "… You do know I don't work within your rules, right? Your wild card, as you liked to say," you smirked, causing him to look over at you, before smiling lightly in response.
"True, but a wild card shouldn't be used until deemed necessary –"
"Yeah, well, once again I could be dead by then. For all you reapers talking about death all the time, you tend to forget I can die," you scoffed in annoyance, but he smirked in response.
"You know, I miss this… I was thinking," Michael sighed, deeply, his tired tone causing you to give him a curious look in return, "of disappearing."
You paused, looking him over, and realizing he was being serious. "… Why?"
"I mean, a-ah, nothing is working! And those damn higher ups think they know better! I'm getting sick and tired of not being listened to… When a powerhouse like you was by our side, we got shit done. Now a days, no one will give me a second glance. Give a shit about the fact that we just left a warzone. Maybe it's just PTSD or maybe I'm just exhausted.
"They've forced Johnny, Stevie, and myself into working in the field, but then~ they aren't giving Edmond a chance. Just because he's a tad on the short side."
"I bet Edmond and Johnny aren't taking this very well," you decided to say, and he scoffed underneath his breath.
"… Edmond refuses to use magic, now. I think he's going to leave, for good. And then Teresa is pissed that she hasn't been given a chance, either. Maybe Flora is the only one who's happy. I can tell even Rosie is getting anxious. At least with Flora, since she's a top notch healer, they've placed her in the infirmary as a nurse, and I hear that she's turned her apartment into a laboratory… but that could just be Teresa trying to gloat about 'women power' and whatever," he huffed, but you smirked slyly at his irritation.
"… You do understand women are being forced to do what the men want, in this era, right? Our say is rarely heard… Though, I wouldn't even know where Teresa could go. Maybe an American Branch? I'd think the rules are a bit looser. Maybe she could be a cowgirl," you snickered at the thought, and he shrugged his shoulders in response.
"The thing is, if we start to split up the same disaster can happen in this timeline… but I'm starting to think our world deserves it," he scoffed, his eyes looking up at you, only to notice your staring. "… What?"
"So, you'd rather let innocent beings take the blame for your stupidity, then try to fight for a better future?" you stated rather bluntly, and he frowned as you sighed, picking up the duffle bag and placing it upon your lap as you thought all of this information over. "… Maybe I shouldn't be human, after all."
"… But, Lara, you really don't need to get involved in this. I mean, you told me your soul is tired, isn't it? You have an old soul, or something like that. It lingers until the end of days, and considering it already happened, for us, maybe you can die in peace?" he decided to say, noticing you were staring at him critically, and he shrugged and slumped back onto his hands. "Just, think about it. If you let Death take its hold on you and turn you into a grim reaper, regardless if you quicken the process or not, wouldn't you repeat the cycle? Even if you die, you'll end up alive again? Just in a new body?... I'm sorry, but even if nothing is going our way, I'd hate to see you so miserable," he scoffed, only to freeze as you leaned over, putting your hands on his cheeks and forcing him to look into your bright, shimmering bluish eyes.
"You need to stop believing you know what's best for me, death," you spoke so sternly, so simply, that he couldn't help but widen his eyes, only for his gaze to soften as you continued to look into his bright, shimmering greenish/yellow double iris eyes. "A human has a thing called free will. You lost that when you committed suicide… If I want to off myself, let me do so in peace. And if I want to break down the gates of heaven and shatter the brimstone in hell, I'll do so. Do not tell me what to do," you finished a bit roughly, but you didn't care.
You're getting tired of people telling you what to do, mortal and immortal alike.
"… Now, Michael," you began, letting go of his face and sitting back onto the coffin, giving him a serious look as you continued as strictly as possible, "what is it are you going to do? Give up or keep fighting to the bitter end?"
"I-I… I suppose fight," he sighed to himself, causing you to smirk and nod your head slightly in approval.
"Fine. The real question is, are you going to wait for the council to make these decisions for~ you, when it's too late to stop anyone, or will you go the extra mile and start planning for the inevitable?... How I see it," you continued, casually crossing one leg on top of the other as you continued in a calm tone, "Death is tired of the disobedience its children are causing it. In Death's eyes, I like to think it let everything turn to shit because it wanted to start over. Those entities think that way, after all," you told him, before sitting back on your arms, "so, here's my suggestion:
"If the council will not prepare for the end, you get started. Have a safe place the reapers can go, when all hell breaks loose. A different dimension, realm, whatever. Because that was our biggest problem. We had nowhere to go. Stuck in the middle between hell and heaven could only destroy us. So, that's a start, and then, perhaps, doing some reconnaissance work and finding reapers that left the association. Perhaps, make your own group. Because trust me, I could tell what was happening.
"Whatever remained, Death and Life still went on, regardless if the humans existed or not. Thus, deathlings will still exist. There are those that have been kicked aside because they are not humanlike, other beings that left because they were tired of the association's bullshit. Or, most likely, they never agreed to work with the Grim Reaper Association, when it was founded long ago. Those entities, the ones that were against us and on the side of the devils… try to recruit them. At least then, they can cripple the devils and destroy the angels… It's their war, not ours. We just got stuck in the middle, and the fact that the reapers didn't do much to prevent it was the problem… I'm sure they're as sick of the association as you are," you finished with a thoughtful smirk, and he could only sigh lightly in response. "… If you're not up for it, then just accept that you let the apocalypse happen," you smirked deviously, and he scoffed.
"Yyyou~… Thanks, I think," he responded, but you chuckled lightly in reply.
"Look, we're in this together. For as long as I'm living, right here and right now, I'll be helpful… Even if all I'm doing is giving you a damn pep talk," you huffed to yourself, and Michael grinned for pausing for a moment, something coming to his mind before he looked over at you.
"So… Lara. Why don't you tell me what's happened to you, so far? Are you really doing well or are you just hiding your misery?" he asked, causing you to pout.
"I-I don't really want to –"
"Come now. If this guy is treating you badly I'll kick his ass," Michael stated, and you smirked at his wasted attempt at a threat.
But you paused, your smile weaning, and then you rubbed the back of your neck. "Well… if you really want to know… it's a bit crazy. I guess I'll start there."