Why is Death such a hard character to write? He's so snarky and god do I love him but why?
ughhhh. I hope you guys like this chapter better than I do. ^w^
Also! There's a bit of a time skip in this chapter, which is another part I don't especially like. It was too short without it though and!
Drum roll please!
War is in the next chapter, and its already half written.
Get hyped.
"So... Where is he supposed to be exactly?" You hum curiously, glancing around the rather barren landscape.
Strife makes a noise of annoyance from behind you, "Hell if I know. Somewhere near here?"
"The merchant claimed so." Fury responds lightly, a ways away from you, Strife, and Grief. Her own mount is a very pretty thing, if not intimidating. Apparently it's name is Terror, which you figure fits the theme nicely. Your own name seems extremely out of place when you think of yourself with the Horseman and their steeds.
"Hey, Strife?" You ask, tilting your head back.
"What?" He responds wearily.
You pause, having expected him to snap at you. He seems to be in an awfully bad mood after Fury got the Council to agree to allowing you to leave to find Death. To add insult to injury, she told him his presence isn't necessary, to which he vehemently disagreed. You're pretty sure the learned the phrase "fuck that noise" from yours truly.
"I don't know. I'm bored." You finally say, sighing.
"Agreed." He hmphs, yanking you roughly to his chest. "Take a nap or something then. Grief and I can handle it."
"I thought you said I sleep too much?" You laugh.
"You've gotta stock up on rest if you're going to train with Death." He still sounds irritated by that, much to his sister's amusement. You see her lips quirk before she turns her face away and spurs Terror to move on ahead.
"Why are you so salty when Death is concerned?" You frown. "I mean, I know he's sassy as fuck, but I always thought it was sorta cute."
"You think Death is cute?" Strife repeats incredulously. Grief nickers in agreement.
You shrug, smirking mischievously. "I'm weak for Horseman."
"Apparently." He huffs.
"In my defense though, I don't mean like fluffy bunny cute, I mean like... "Wow this guy's sort of an asshole but this is hilarious" cute. There's a difference." You elaborate, grabbing his hand and threading your fingers through his. You also curse his armor for poking you.
Shaking with laughter, he agrees, "He is 'sort of an asshole', that I will admit."
"You still didn't answer the question." You remind him.
He probably rolls his eyes at that, if you're guessing correctly. "It's not anything in particular. I... Don't really get along with my siblings."
"You get along with me." You pointedly squeeze his hand.
"You're... Different. It's easy to get along with you." He allows.
"Why do you say that?" It's your turn to be disbelieving. "I'm awkward as all get out and I can't even fight yet, and honestly I don't see the appeal."
He snorts. "You're interesting, you seem to truly care for the four of us, which is practically uncharted territory, and the Council weren't wrong when claimed humans are clever things. Without you Fury and I would have no idea what's in store."
Your chain heats up a bit as if its annoyed you've managed to give them sprinkles of information without directly breaking the rules, but you're more concerned with how sincere Strife is.
You find yourself smiling brightly, bringing your hands up to your cheek. "I think you just gave me a cavity with all that sweetness."
"How about I knock it out then?" Strife threatens, curling his hand into a fist.
"Oh, shut up." You snap, patting Grief. "How have you put up with this for so long?"
"Are you trying to turn my own horse on me?" Strife sounds torn between amused and annoyed.
You shrug. "Actually I'm trying to make conversation with your horse. I've only been here like what? Three weeks now? Just how do you do it, Grief?" The horse makes a snickering noise that could almost be considered a laugh. Huh.
"I take it all back, humans are fucking rude and nothing else." Strife mock corrects himself. His tone softens the harsh wording.
"Such langu-"
A bright purple streak on the horizon cuts you off, shooting up like electricity. Fury's whip, you recognize after a second of panicky confusion.
"Fury must've found him." Strife explains, spurring Grief on.
You buzz with renewed excitement, clutching Strife's hand like a lifeline as you get your first look at Death. It takes only a few minutes of Grief making an honest effort to reach Fury and a not-so-mysterious character. They barely glance up when the three of you draw close, although Death's unnervingly bright eyes linger on you for a while.
You try to be cool, and fail miserably by smiling brilliantly.
"Remember to breathe." Strife teases you, pulling his hand away to help you dismount. You remain glued to his side even when Grief is banished. Thankfully he doesn't seem to mind.
"This is the last living human then?" Death narrows his eyes at you. "What are you called?"
"(Y/N)." You manage that at least without stuttering. "I know who you are."
"So I would assume." He scoffs, looking to Strife. "I'm surprised you're so... Close to them, brother. I didn't think you knew how to friends."
You can feel Strife stiffen, but you beat him to the punch with a quick, "Dude, your best friend is a crow."
Your eyes go wide as soon as realize you just backsassed Death, bringing both your hands up to cover your traitorous mouth.
"Damn." Strife laughs, hardly trying to smother the sound. Fury is much better at keeping her amusement quiet, going as far as to shoot you a disapproving glare. You honestly do not blame her.
Death's gaze slowly returns to you, and there's a short pause in which your life flashes before your eyes before he responds, "Fair enough." He gives you a once over, apparently deciding you're now worth the effort to do so. "However I was under the impression you're here to ask for my assistance."
You have to pick your words carefully to make it seem like that last comment was purposeful, "Knowing you, begging isn't gonna get me anywhere."
"And what do you know of me?" His eyes narrow.
"I know you haven't talked to Crowfather lately." You allow your eyes to flicker to his chest, where you distinctly remember the amulet shards being embedded. He's still got pretty hella abs though, you have to admit. "He doesn't appreciate the spooky necklace you gave him."
"I can't imagine why not." Death hmphs, his famed sarcasm making you smile.
"I hear ya, but that probably won't stop 'im from trying to kill you if you do end up payin him a visit." You've figured out that your chain doesn't mind nonspecific predictions, so this is completely within your bounds. Words like probably and maybe have become your best friends lately.
"This is what I was trying to explain." Fury says, breaking the tense little bubble you and Death had formed. "The Council has chained them to secrecy, but (y/n) refuses-"
"To shut the fuck up about the future." Strife interrupts, patting your head.
You frown at him, "Why are you swearing so much today?"
"I'll give you three guesses." He responds. Under normal circumstances you would snuggle up to him right about now, but you're not sure he would appreciate with big brother Death around.
He does seem pretty irritated though... You give him a weak glare and, deciding you don't actually care about Death's opinion on your relationship, you wrap your arms around his waist. "Well... there's three other Horseman."
"Are you trying to say you don't even consider yourself an option?" Strife snorts. He doesn't return your embrace, but doesn't seem to mind either. You know it's just because Fury and Death are present.
"I can see the future, remember?" You tease.
This actually makes him laugh. "You know War's potential future, and next to nothing else, kid."
"Pshhh, like that matters. And I do know some of Death's future too, thank you very much." You tilt your head to look at said Horseman, smiling apologetically. "Council's got me on a leash though, so I can't really help you in that regard."
"In what regards can you help me, human?" He sounds dubious at best.
You roll your eyes in reply. "There's a reason the Council wants me to be War's advisor, nephilim. I want to help you, and make things easier for War, at least. As of right now though, we both know he won't take me seriously."
His eyes narrow a fraction. "Why do you care? What has the Council promised you in return?"
"Well they did gave this awesome belt." You step away from Strife to yank up your shirt, revealing said belt and the still relatively fresh burns. "And stabilized me or something. Apparently dimension hoping isn't good for humans? Hell if I know what would have happened alternatively."
"You would've died," Fury chirps helpfully.
"Thanks." You reply dryly, poking at the leathery skin. It's not exactly what you would call a scab and you're not sure what the proper word is. "Gross." You mutter, covering it back up.
"It's healing nicely at least." Fury says, giving you a reassuring smile.
You grin lightly in return before turning back to Death. "That's also why I'm not allowed to spill my guts. Apparently any of you knowing War's future would be bad news, as if I wouldn't have a plan. Although I guess it's a good way to keep me semi-loyal I mean, I could totally fuck up their plans." You clasp your hands excitedly. "That'd be fun."
If only War would believe you right off the bat telling him the Council wants to use him as a scape goat. Not that him knowing would do much aside from kindle his ire, what with him being stripped of power and all. Honestly the game's storyline is pretty good in that regard, and you don't actually have much to change. The Council, and the Horseman, don't need to know that presently though.
"You're not fond of the Council?" Death prompts, sounding mildly interested.
"Oh, you'll see. They deserve it for what they've done." You grind your teeth, only stopping when your chains begin to heat up again. "Oh come on! I didn't break any rules." You hiss.
"Treason is generally regarded as rule breaking." Strife laughs.
You cast him a glare. "It's not treason if I haven't sworn loyalty. You know damn well who I'm after."
"Now who's swearing?" He taunts, more than likely smirking behind that mask of his.
You don't dignify that with a response and instead glance back at Death. "I don't blame you for avoiding your realm, dude, but I sorta need your help."
"We need your help." Fury adds. Your senses are much to slow to catch the movements, but suddenly she's got one arm wrapped around your waist and her chin resting on top of your head. She thankfully keeps her grip just above your burns.
Death glances between the two of you, seeming to weigh his options. "I suppose I have nothing better to do." He finally concedes, eyes on you. "Tell me more about the Crowfather?" It almost sounds like a question, although you think it's an order.
"Sure!" You cheer, smiling brightly. "From what I've gathered he's probably going to be a reappearing NPC in your game despite being slaughtered and all. You're fucking brutal by the way. A plus."
"My game?" He mimics, clearly questioning your sanity. You're just happy he didn't comment on the obvious fangirling. Ugh. You're the last human, come on. Make a good impression.
"Yes. It's... Complicated. I can't go into details because it would break my rules though. It involves War, is what I'm saying. I guess the better term would be 'timeline'? Ugf.. It's hard to explain without getting toasted. That's also why I'm talking like this. The chain doesn't seem to understand slang. The Watchers do though, which is really weird. Like, what...? Were they literally watching humans? Because no other creature that I've ever seen uses 'hella'." You babble on as Fury and Strife begin to plan out your schedule now that Death is on board.
Death, thankfully, is giving you his full attention. Or, you think so at least... It's hard to tell with him. "I'm not up to date on the Watcher's duties." He says dryly.
"You're not up to date with much of anything as far as I know." You deadpan.
"As far as you know." He agrees.
You wonder if mentioning the past breaks your rules, debating a few moments before admitting, "I know about the Abomination Vault."
This catches his attention. He eyes you carefully, "What of it?"
"Nothing. I just... That's another part of the timeline I have an intimate knowledge of. It starts with you sassing a none too observant demon, before War gets involved. Speaking of which, where's Dust?" You pout.
He makes a noise that you could almost call a laugh. "Scavenging, I would assume. He's not useful for much else."
"You're so mean." You hum happily. Who would've thought you'd get to see Death trash talking his bird in person? Or, Death in general really. You suppose the timeline does make sense though, given Darksiders 2 supposedly begins just a bit before the original Darksiders.
Strife nudges you, hissing, "Weak."
"Hey, Strife, no one cares, babe." You respond with a sugary sweet grin.
If looks could kill...
##*#*#*#*#*## This is the timeskip I mentioned
Honestly... You didn't think time could move so fast, you muse, taking a sip of your pink lemonade. You've already done your training for today with Fury, and are now awaiting Death's commands.
He doesn't seem inclined to deal with you right now though, so you settle for going over your plan for the billionth time and silently taking notes.
It's been a short few months, especially once Death joined your little party. He's even worse than Fury when it comes to training, pushing you much harder than she does. You usually end up collapsing in your blissfully cool bed (or Strife's, but that's only on Bad Days) afterwards.
You're getting better though, and that's all that really matters. Well, and you've finally got yourself an actual weapon of your own. A halberd, in fact. Unfortunately it can't split itself in half like Harvester (which Death has only let you use once, it was amazing), but it sparkles occasionally. Death says that's good. It's 'synching with your energy'.
You watch Death train with his ghouls with unabashed amazement, although you can hardly keep up with his quick, precise movements. It's just so... Pretty. He's so graceful, effortlessly switching between Harvesters' large sweeping scythe attacks and it's double form with its more up close moves.
You know he's aware of his audience, but he makes no move to acknowledge you quite yet, so you continue to watch him. You also wonder who designed this training room. You're still not used to this place.
Just like the rest of this strange compound, it's set up awkwardly. The main area is a few feet deeper than the edges, making it more of a fighting pit than anything else. You rest on the upper area, once again questioning who thought solid rock flooring was a good idea. The walls are bare and instead of windows there are large mirrors.
You glance back at Death, who continues to slay his ghouls with little effort. Nice.
Feeling a weight on your shoulder, you yip in surprise. Dust squawks in reply, yanking at a strand of your hair. You give him a weak glare, asking blandly, "Is that how you greet everyone?"
The crow makes a harsh noise, shaking his wings out.
"My bird speak is a little rusty, you know." You joke. You very slowly move to pet him, careful of his wicked-looking beak. He makes another noise, although this one is more of a chirp.
"Aww," Cooing, you continue to pet the large bird. "I'll admit you're cute. Although your nails-"
He squawks as if he's offended by the word 'nails.'
"...fearsome talons are digging into my shoulder." You correct, trying to seem sincere.
Dust makes the bird equivalent of a snort, apparently well versed in sarcasm. You narrow your eyes when he digs his claws farther into your shoulder. "Wow, that hurts so bad, Dust, I might just die."
Dust puffs up his feathers and pointedly turns his face away from you.
"You've offended my bird." Death's voice is much closer than you expected.
You lurch back a bit, one hand wrapping around the pole of your weapon instinctively. To say you're a little strung out is a colossal understatement. "Sorry?" You offer.
Death pauses, giving you a once over. "Nervous?" He finally asks, sounding honestly interested. You wouldn't go as far as to say concerned, but it is Death. You'll take what you can get.
"Extremely. I mean, I can sort of fight now, so that'll be a plus, but there's still no guarantee War will take my advisor status seriously and to be honest, I'm just scared in general like. Humans are known for being weak and what we've got to accomplish isn't easy in any sense of the word." You babble anxiously, rehashing what you've gone over with Strife for the hundredth time. You've only mentioned your fears to Fury once, mostly because her way of comforting you is... Disorienting. Good for your ego, yeah, but it doesn't address the main issue.
"And yet you still insist on trying." Death prompts.
"I've got nothing to lose." You shrug, running your finger tips over Dust's wing.
"Strife would disagree." The Horseman counters.
Blinking, you tilt your face at him. "I... Strife will be fine. And I thought you disliked him?" Are you worried about him?
"Threats are a form of affection among nephilim." He replies. You're not sure if he's being sarcastic or not, honestly. Probably, you decide as he continues, "I don't understand why you're so anxious to throw your life away, considering you are the third kingdom."
You elect to ignore the obvious dig on your 'title', tracing the shallow designs in the pole of your weapon. "I know you don't understand. I know you don't believe I actually care for War too, but that doesn't stop me from doing so."
You're completely aware he's heard you and the other's bicker about his youngest brother, and with Strife's mouth it'd be impossible for him to have missed your crush. You've yet to have a conversation about it though, aside from now.
His eyes noticeably narrow. "Ah, yes, because you know War better than anyone."
You scowl in return, fighting back your instinct yell. "That's what I'm talking about. Your cynical point of view isn't going to change how I feel about him. And it's not... Like I said, even if we do end up befriending one another, I have the lifespan of a fruit fly compared to you guys. He'll- they'll be fine."
Death glares at you, "You're over confident in your ability to change the timeline but have no grasp on your self worth."
"Was..." You start, watching him intently. "Was that a compliment? What are you..."
He sighs, the noise grating on your nerves. "Humans are truly the cleverest of races."
"Ohhhh, isn't this interesting?" A distinctly different voice crows, a Watcher coming to rest on Death's shoulder. The Horseman throws it off immediately, but its undeterred. "Socializing with our little human, are we, Kinslayer? I thought you were training."
You absolutely despise the way it says 'our human', as if they own you.
Apparently you're not very good at keeping your feelings off your face either. The Watcher tilts its head at you, mocking, "Don't look so sour. The council has asked me to compile a list of things you will need."
On the up side, you're pretty sure this isn't War's Watcher. It doesn't seem to have the same level of snark.
"I've already given you all a list." You huff, retuning to petting Dust.
"You've had longer to think it over now. The Council wants you to have every advantage for your... quest. Some things may take longer to acquire than others. We'll probably have to scour the remains of Earth." It responds, fluttering its larger wings excitedly.
"Yea!" You cheer sarcastically. "You got a piece of paper or something? I have to think this through."
"Come along." The Watcher spins around, heading towards the exit.
"O...kay?" You wriggle your finger under Dust's feet, making him hop off. He settles back onto Death's shoulder. "I'll see you two later, I guess?" You suggest, hoping off your little perch.
You have the feeling it's going to be a Bad Day.