Scrounging through dumpsters was one of Raziel's favorite hobbies. It had to be, considering how often he did it. Not that there wasn't any other reason to enjoy scavenging like that, there were a ton. Like, imagine all the cool stuff people throw out and shit. Oh, and every now and again he would get a pretty intact meal from some dumbass who decided they didn't want to eat it. Not to mention the feast he would get whenever a bakery was tossing out their leftover goods. Sure, he'd have to fight off the other street rats for it, but it was more than worth it.

Pilfering a half-eaten chicken wing from outside some random East Mistralian restaurant, he shook his hand of the slight stinging sensation that came from decking some asshole in the face. Appreciating the meaty wing, he gave a kick to the worn-out looking kid who had tried to jump him.

"Ya know, usually when you want to try and jump someone who- shit, this wing is good- who doesn't look like they can toss your ass across an alley."

The kid muttered something under his breath, but Raziel paid it no mind. Instead, he tossed the bone of his chicken wing onto the kid's body and stepped over him. Leaving the alley and entering the near empty sidewalks of Vale, Raziel pulled his tattered jacket around him to protect his body from the weirdly chilly night air. It was unusually cold for an August night, a time he associated with uncomfortable heat and rancid smells. In fact, he had never felt the air be as cold as it was right now.

Slowing his walk to a stop, he glanced around to see if anyone else seemed as cold as he was. Only a few people were out and about at this time of night, most of which being those with ill intentions. Not that he was one to judge, not considering he could understand it. Life sucked, and sometimes you needed to find a release for all that bitterness you held inside.

It was then that an odd metal groaning hit his ear.

Looking from one side to another, Raziel furrowed his brow as his eyes scanned the area in search of the noise, though nothing seemed to explain it. The streets were empty of cars for once, and everyone who was walking along the sidewalk seemed to instead be quickly moving away from him. Why?

He got his answer as a shadow descended upon him, blocking out what little light the shattered moon gave as a billboard fell from the sky.

Raziel acted as soon as his body let him, pivoting on his heel so hard he stumbled before doing his best to run away from the falling billboard. He then stepped on a stray soda can, tripping on the aluminum and hitting the ground. Throwing his arms up to protect his head, Raziel shut his eyes tight as the billboard fell right on top of him.

Or, it should have.

Tentatively opening his eyes, Raziel stared up at a sickly blue sky instead of the falling billboard. pushing himself off of the ground, he turned his head down to see the back of the billboard which was going to kill him.

Or rather, the billboard that had killed him.

"I died from a random ass billboard. What are the odds of that?"

"Not high."

His head whipped around, eyes widening as what could only be described as the Grim Reaper towered over him. He took a step back, dumbfounded as Death stared down at him.

"So, you are the one who reeks of me. I am not impressed. Tell me, is there anything you would like to say before I devour your soul?"

Still stunned, Raziel said the first thing that came to mind. "Holy hell, you're thicc!"

"Excuse me?"

It was the first thing that had come to mind, and how could anyone blame him? The dark robes which covered Death did little to hide the massive tits jutting out from her frame, nor did it conceal the wide hips and thick thighs which captivated his vision. Oh sure, her head was simply a skull with glowing crimson dots in the center, but that did little to detract from how smokin' hot she was.

"Gods, I wish I could just motorboat those tiddies."

He was going to die (again?) anyway, so why the hell wouldn't he voice out his intrusive thoughts? And, on the plus side, it seemed to completely befuddle Death as she craned her neck forward a bit in a confused manner. "You… You what?"

Seeing as it was keeping it alive for now, he threw caution to the wind and kept going. "I'm just saying that if I could plow that ass of yours in the sloppiest breeding frenzy seen by man, I fucking would."

She turned her head back up, staring off into the distance as she took a moment to process. Shaking her head, she looked back down at him with a blank look on her face (skull?). "I think I'm done here. Time to eat."

"I will be inside you, but not this day!"

Pivoting on his heel once more, Raziel began to sprint down the desolate street away from the fifty-foot mommy dommy who sought to eat him in the least enjoyable way possible.

"Running will get you nowhere."

Her voice echoed across the city, even as he ran and turned through the now twisted streets of Vale. The roads were cracked and deformed, bending in the wrong ways as he frightfully attempted to navigate them. The surrounding buildings were crooked and shifted into the wrong places, abandoning the grid-like patterns they had originally formed in favor of a mishmash of positions.

"Even if you evade me now, I shall always find you!"

He ignored her, sliding under the side of a leaning apartment building and into an alleyway. Despite his familiarity with the alleys of Vale, Raziel found himself growing increasingly lost as he navigated them here. The alleys took unusual angles and curves which should normally never be there, creating paths which felt more like a roughly scribbled maze than an actual place.

It was only natural that he would find himself at a dead end at some point, the blue haze which covered everything obscuring his way until he was only a dozen feet away from a brick wall. He swore, kicking a dumpster and running his hands through his hair as frustration ate at him. He went to turn and go a different way, but stopped as a light groaning once again stopped him.

Though this time, he saw the source immediately. All five of them.

Monsters, there was no other way to describe them. Their bodies were malformed, giving them hunched backs and bone thin stomachs. The remnants of hair hung from their twitching heads, snake-like teeth filling their grinning mouths in such a way that left the flesh stretched beyond their capacity. Eyes a complete pale yellow glowed within their skulls, trained on him as they shuffled forward with their arms outstretched, both their hands and feet only having two claws to call their own.

Panic flared in him before his mind somehow steeled itself, calling upon his years of street brawling to force him into a rudimentary guard. He held his hands up, fists clenched as he grit his teeth and lunged forward.

His fist collided with one of the monster's, hitting it straight in the teeth. The creature didn't even budge, instead opening its mouth and biting off his hand with a single chomp.

Raziel screamed, yanking his arm away and pedaling backwards until his back hit the wall. He held his arm close to his chest, jaw clenched as wisps of green energy leaked from where his stump was. The rest of the beasts must have seen his weakness, as they began to dogpile on top of him with claws tearing at his flesh.

Skin tore, flesh rended, bones cracked. And through it all, Raziel felt his anger settle within his chest with a cold sharpness. It was as if a steel blade had been shoved through his heart, a comparison which felt apt as the claws of those monsters began to tear deeper through his body into his internal organs. Despite all the ripping of his body, he felt little in the way of panic now. Instead, a levelheadedness that he was unused to settled within his mind as something else came to the forefront. The anger focused itself into something new, something unseen to him until this very moment. It coiled tighter and tighter and tighter still, tension building to a breaking point as it waited for him to give it that one last push.

He did so readily.

"Get the FUCK OFF ME!"

Raziel exploded, finding a hidden strength within him as he threw all five monsters off him. His body, though broken and missing several large chunks, felt more powerful than ever as he clenched his fists once more.

Rushing forward, he threw a fist at one of the beasts and hit its teeth, this time smashing through the bones. Grabbing the monster's tongue, he ripped it out without a second thought and then grabbed the monster's head with both hands. Instinct guided him as he opened his mouth, the beast squirming in his grip as it began to dissipate into a green energy which he then ate.

The wisps of energy around his wounds began to knit themselves together, reforming his body as he turned to the other four monsters. They stared at him, wary now that he had managed to devour one of their own.

Now allowing them more time to think, Raziel clawed at the nearest one and forced it to the ground. Shoving his knee into its throat, he devoured that one as well. The energy he gained from that one began to cover his body, not quite solidifying but creating a shroud of sorts over him.

Feeling his strength increase after the second devouring, he lunged after the third and fourth, stabbing his hands through their chests and devouring them as well. The fifth, having seen its comrades fall, attempted to escape him. Not that it got very far, as a massive leap left Raziel on top of the creature's back and devouring it as well.

The energy around him began to settle, his clothes disappearing as it formed a new garb over him. Over his body formed a fabric as white as bones, clinging to his body as ink formed over his heels and ankles before spreading up and stopping over his kneecaps. A similar effect happened to his arms, as his fingers hardened into bone claws and the black coloring covered both the front and back of his hands before traveling up to cover his elbows. A red cloak of sorts settled over his shoulders and covered the lower half of his face, going all around him and leaving a short and tattered cape to rest right at the small of his back. Reaching up to touch his face, he realized that what felt like a skull mask had settled over the part of his face that hadn't been covered by the cloak's mask now settled over the rest of his face.

It was an interesting outfit, one which felt a bit too edgy for his usual tastes. But at the same time, he didn't not like it either. It was actually quite comfortable.

Giving the rest of his body pat down, he paused as he noticed a small book hung on a belt on his waist. Grabbing the book, he eyed the cover with a measure of intrigue. The cover of the leather book held a golden skull on its center, gems and other precious stones adorning the design in such a way that it looked almost like a sugar skull.

A calavera, his mind supplied.

He cracked open the book, brain squirming as the squiggly symbols became legible words to his eyes. He began to read the book, hands clenching the leather the deeper he went. A catalog of… waifus? Character generation? Perks? Heritages? Challenges? So much information that made little sense to him, but somehow informed him just enough to shed light on his situation.

He had filled out a form for some waifu catalog nonsense, granting himself incredible abilities at the cost of summoning alongside him that curvy Death, someone labeled as a Tier X entity. As part of the challenges, he had chosen to erase his own memory for more credits. Or at least, that was what he was able to gather by the perks assigned to his "build". Some of which were obscured to his own eyes, but there was enough to give him hope.

Not the hope of defeating Death, gods no, but of getting out of here.

Putting the book away for now, he turned back to the dead end and placed both hands on it. Getting himself psyched up, he tugged on his internal reservoir of energy (necroplasm, he supposed) and felt himself phase through the wall. Stumbling to the other side, Raziel found himself in a broken home (literally). Bits of furniture were mashed together and stuck in the walls, a chandelier sticking out from the ground and yet pointing up, walls bent at 45-degree angles. It was chaos, and he was getting less and less surprised by it.

Phasing his way out of the apartment, he began to simply run through the buildings in his way rather than skirt around them. His running speed, which had been respectable before, was now on par with some huntsmen-in-training that he had seen wandering around the city occasionally. He zoomed through the city, passing by more of those monsters without a second glance as he eventually found himself at the lake which separated the Residential District from the commercial one.

"Damn it."

The gap between them was massive, easily more than a few city blocks. There was no way he was swimming that, much less jumping it. Letting out a slight growl of frustration, he turned around to find another way around when an idea struck him. He was basically a ghost right now, or something similar enough. Perhaps then, he could fly? Ghosts could fly, right?

Fuck it, time to find out.

Tensing his legs, Raziel took a running start as he sprinted his way towards the edge of the lake. The energy within him burned as he all but begged it to listen to his wish, knees bending as he leapt into the air. There was no wind to whip across his face as he moved, no whistling as his body began to feel weightless in the air, and no gravity as he finally started to fucking fly.

He almost squealed with delight, throwing his hands forward as he made his way through the sky towards the Commercial District.

"Found you."

Death's voice slammed against his ears, and he quickly turned his body around just in time to see her massive form gliding over the city towards him. Her outstretched arm seemed to go on forever as she grabbed him from across Vale, squeezing down as she brought him up to her bony face.

"You… You devoured some lost souls. You are like me, but different. I cannot allow that. There can be only one Death."

She opened her mouth, a spiraling void of crimson energy swirling around inside as tendrils of it began to reach for him. Seeing his end (for real this time) rapidly approaching, Raziel tugged on his necroplasm once more and focused on one singular thought.

"Get me the fuck out of here!"

His power reacted, shifting inside of him as the blue world dimmed and gave way to the pitch-black sky of reality. Death's grip on him became nonexistent as he floated in the air, her visage now little more than a hazy form in the sky. Though even as obscure as she was, there was one thing that he could see in her eyes as clear as day.

Rage.

Backing off quickly, Raziel continued his flight to the Commercial District. He let out a sigh once he saw that it had returned to normal, happy to be back home and decidedly not dead. It was then that he finally took notice of the city from his current view and stopped frozen in his tracks at the grandeur of it. The massive city stretched across the horizon from where he floated, lights blaring up from below as the city proved that humanity could not only withstand the Grimm but thrive in spite of them.

It was a beautiful sight, one which was let down only by the fact that he had begun to sink.

His necroplasm was draining now, something that hadn't happened back in the Spectral Realm (as he dubbed it). And as his reserves grew low, his flight began to fail him.

Raziel quickly zipped across the sky, fighting against gravity as his necroplasm reserves began to dip into the red. Wind now hit his face, drying his eyes and making it hard to see as he started a rough descent. It was a struggle to stay in the air, one which was draining him of so much power that the energy keeping his suit together was being cannibalized to keep him from plummeting. The fabric began to dissipate as he neared one of the buildings, exposing parts of his body to the cold air as he brought both of his arms up and braced for impact.

Hitting the roof of the building nearest to the water, he bounced across the rough concrete all across the long roof until he eventually stopped right at the opposite edge. Hissing in slight pain, Raziel sat himself up and rolled his neck to get rid of the stiff feeling in it. In fact, his entire body felt rather stiff. Unnaturally so.

Allowing his suit to dissipate and for his old clothes to return, he felt the stiffness in his body lessen ever so slightly as he stood up and brushed the dust off himself. Whatever energy had been keeping the suit together had been reabsorbed by his body and had filled his reserves somewhat. Though they still hovered right above empty, with no sign of regeneration in sight. With how uncomfortable his body felt now, it was possible that running out of necroplasm would send him out of the Material Realm.

Considering what waited for him back there, he wasn't so eager to test that.

Looking down onto the city, he did his best to orient himself to his surroundings as he put together a plan of action. The public library should still be open, it was 24/7 after all. He could use that to get some information hopefully, and research the book more. Following that… he had no idea. This whole situation was a complete mindfuck, and he didn't know enough to formulate an actual plan.

There was one thing he did know: he had seen Death, and she had some large motherfucking tiddies.

… … …

The National Library of Vale was sort of a safe haven for those who just needed a few hours of peace. They were open all the time, and as long as you didn't loiter for too long the staff would turn a blind eye to any homeless. As long as you were smart enough to not take advantage of their kindness, you'd be welcome there.

For Raziel, the library was the closest thing to a home he had. He had spent months of his life in this place, reading all he could and even getting a library card just so that he could read even more. It was the only thing he could really do with how little he had, especially when that Emerald girl had started pickpocketing people and laying the blame on others somehow. Times had been tough then, with wallet nabbing being too risky to attempt due to how on guard everyone was from her rampage of theft.

He was glad that girl was long gone.

Still, even when he wasn't forced into the massive house of learning, Raziel preferred it here to out there. He had never been formally schooled, so the library had been the next best thing. Sure, he had no delusions of ever one day going to college. That was a rich folk's game after all. However, he still wanted to be educated. If only so that he could prove to himself that he was better than all those slumps who just focus on survival rather than living.

Though whether or not he was alive right now was up for debate.

Raziel had been through all the ghost books he could find, most of which were in the fiction section and the ones which weren't only spoke of them in a mythological sense. So, he abandoned that train of thought and instead tried religion.

Religion ended up being a dud too. Who would've thought?

Spiritualism, science, mythology, it all ended up the same. Ghosts weren't real, at least not to the general public. And really, why would anyone bother to think otherwise? Life was hard enough with just what they could see, adding in a bunch of invisible dicks would be absurd. And death as a concept was too prevalent and vague for any of the books to match up with one another, much less his own experience.

With all those down, it was time to attempt his least favorite subject: history.

It was the subject which felt the least practical. Sure, you could learn lessons from the past or whatever, but not much that you couldn't learn just toughing it out on the streets for a while. Why bother with the past when the future was rushing to smack you in the face?

Still, he was running low on options. Deciding to start somewhere less annoying, he navigated his way to the aisle where he knew the folktales were located. Or perhaps it was easier to say, the books where folktales were analyzed and paired up with history in an attempt to explain them. There were a surprisingly high number of books like that, which suited him just fine.

Unfortunately, he wasn't alone. Some chick was there, a pretty brunette, and was almost nose deep in some book. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, he was Valean after all. Ignoring people and minding his own business was practically a city law. However, the two tall bunny ears atop her head made his intrusive thoughts go nuts, and his mouth acted without his permission.

"So, can you hear twice as good with all four ears? Or are they just for show?"

The girl pulled her head up, eyeing him warily as she stepped away from him. "Uh… kind of."

Well, he had already started. May as well see where this goes. "Do they connect to the same place as your… I don't wanna say normal cause that sounds racist, but the human looking ones."

She squinted at him, book between them almost defensively as she answered him a bit more specifically. "They mostly help with spatial awareness. To be honest, sometimes I feel like they make my hearing worse."

Raziel bobbed his head, remembering the times he had gone into the zoo during those Sundays where it was free. The rabbits had their ears more on the side of their head and moved them around whenever they heard something. Something about them being able to turn their ears like, over 200 degrees or whatever. "Is it 'cause the canal is different? I mean, they're just right there at the top of your head. Your ear canals must be crazy if they manage to connect and go to the same place. If you block one set of ears, does sound bounce around into the other? Is that rude?"

Talking to people wasn't really his strong suit. He wasn't shy or anything, far from it, but he definitely lacked a filter. Thankfully, the girl didn't seem to mind it all that much. If anything, she seemed to enjoy it as she lowered her book down and gave the barest hint of a smile. "It's fine. I do actually have to go to a doctor for them, though a lot of Faunus with ear traits do, especially huntsmen and huntresses. Head trauma damages our ears a lot more easily than humans, and if we don't keep them clean and taken care of then they could make hearing harder. It's kind of a pain."

Damn, that's crazy. Leaning on the bookshelf, Raziel shook his head as he imagined all that work. "I can barely imagine just having extra limbs and stuff. It sounds tough as hell."

She shrugged, her book closing as she tapped her fingers along the cover. "It has its advantages. I mean, Menagerian music just doesn't sound the same without them."

Humming quietly, he tilted the conversation away from ears. "You from there? Cause you don't sound like you're from the City, and you definitely don't sound like those gods awful Patchers."

Giggling a bit, she rested her book over her thighs and leaned on the bookshelf opposite of him. "I was born in Southern Menagerie out in the Bush, though I moved around a lot. Spent some time in Atlas. Though I've gotta know, what's so bad about people from Patch?"

He groaned, playing it up just a bit as he felt his inner Valean let loose. "They're the fucking worst, man. All uppity cause they live on some island away from all the 'dirty city folk' but then always come out here to party or whatever cause their island is just the most boring place. And if you wanna visit from the City, well then, you're shit out of luck cause the roads leading to the port have these damn low hanging bridges so that city buses can't get through and let poor folk 'ruin their beaches' or some bullshit. Not that I'd wanna go there anyway. It's all white picket fences, old people, and racists."

Stopping himself for a moment, he glanced back at his new buddy. She was staring at him with a very small grin on her face, amused at him for whatever reason. Giving her a look, he leaned back a little defensively. "What?"

She looked away, a blush on her cheeks at the realization she had been caught. "S-Sorry, I just… you're really stereotypically Valean. Can you say, you know, the thing? I just… nevermind, it's dumb."

He knew exactly what she was referring to and decided to humor her. "I'm walking here?"

Another giggle, though this time she tried to hide it the best she could. "R-Right, that. I didn't mean to be rude, it's just, there aren't a lot of Valean from the City itself at Beacon. The accent is… I had only seen it in movies about Vale and… yeah."

Filing away that she was a Beacon huntress, he gave her a shrug and waved off her shyness the best he could. "Don't worry about it. I ain't about to judge you for something I would've done. I mean, I literally if your ears are for show, ya know? Can't get much ruder than that."

Seemingly more comfortable, she bobbed her head slightly. "It's not the rudest thing, but maybe hold off on asking that to anyone else. They might go off on you."

It was fair enough advice, if perhaps something he should have realized before doing it. "I'll keep that in mind. I'm Raziel, by the way."

Extending his arm out, he watched as the young woman tucked her book under her arm and grasped his hand with about as much strength as he expected from a Beacon student. "Velvet Scarlatina. It's been a pleasure to meet you, but I have to go. Second semester starts soon, and I really need to finish my history paper."

Ah, schooling. "Sounds awful, have fun though."

Velvet made a face before shaking her head and leaving the aisle, skirt swaying from side to side as he noticed a beautiful swell where her hips would be. Not that he stared, he was a gentleman (most of the time). Instead, he simply got back to the research grind, no matter how dull it was.

"Oh sweet, ancient titty drawings."

Though sometimes, you did find a gem in the rough.

… … …

Death was inescapable. That was the reality that she had made certain.

Being Death as she was meant a certain level of order that had to be maintained. A balance of life which rested on swinging balances, threatening to topple over with each new invention mankind birthed. She had seen much in her old world, even been cheated a few times. And yet, no matter what humanity attempted, she would win. Time was on her side, after all. Those who thought they escaped her grasp would one day find themselves face to face with her, not a single place to run.

And, like all the others, they would be taken.

However, this world was different. The balance of life was skewed as beasts of solid darkness ravaged humanity, who continued to abuse itself in spite of near extinction. These Grimm owned the land, and humanity fought simply to maintain what little specks of dirt they could. Like ants building their hills and their hives, only for the rain to come and drown them.

From a sympathetic point of view, she could understand why they did what they did. Why they looked inward and used their own souls to fight back against the darkness. However, by doing so they broke a covenant as old as her.

The manipulation of the soul is heresy.

It is no wonder that whatever God managed this realm destroyed the afterlife, leaving these wayward spirits no other choice but to collectively create their own. A Spectral Realm built from their twisted and decayed memories, leaving them to mutate into the abominations that they were now. Sickly little things, like ash in the mouth. But food was food.

And in this world, she was thriving.

Before, she had only been allowed to devour the souls of the damned. Everyone else would be taken to the afterlife, to live again without worry. A loathsome thought, allowing all those tasty souls to simply waste away like that. Not here though. Here, there was no God. No sovereign authority to check her power and keep her in line. Now, she was God. She determined who got oblivion, and who was spared to live in this deformed realm. Hell, or oblivion. A fun choice.

But, as always, there was a wrinkle in the situation.

That one soul which smelt of her so heavily, captivating her more than any other. It was a beautiful soul, one which promised to keep her satisfied for decades at the very least. What a delicious morsel it had looked like, even in spite of how disappointing it was in every other regard. However, Death was not so foolish as to be blinded by flavor. No, she had seen what it had done. How it had devoured the souls of others and gained strength from them.

How he had done as she did.

Was he supposed to be the Death of this world? If so, she was even more disappointed. Still, she was here now. A proper Death to bring balance to this wretched land. His continued existence was frankly just a blight in her reality. Even more so than these so-called huntsmen. Both would need to be dealt with.

But both were out of her reach.

This Psychopomp (for what else could she call it) had the vexing ability to travel into the Material Realm. Something outside even her reach. Perhaps it was because he had been born with a human body and soul, and his death was simply the balancing agent to unite his perceived nature with his true one. Regardless, she could not interfere with the Material Realm, not in this state.

"Hmm… a human body…"

Death put such thoughts to the side for now, instead focusing on her immediate plans. This city, though plentiful, was not quite as rich with souls as she had hoped. They hadn't suffered enough, and as such hadn't mutated enough power to be worth more than a snack. Indeed, she was quite done with this place. After all, why bother with subpar food when the promise of divine spices lingers just over yonder? Yes, the taste of those souls born to a doomed civilization would be most exquisite for her palate. All there just waiting for her to arrive and end their suffering.

And Death was sure to come.

… … …

Don't ask questions.

Anyway, this is entirely a story that came about because… well I actually can't recall. Something about trying to make the horniest waifu catalog build I could. What that turned into was a fucking death build, so whoops. I ended up just making the build complete rather than relying on the site to keep the build saved properly so yeah. As such, I changed quite a few things about how this catalog was gonna work. I ain't dealing with credits or any of that bullshit, so captures are solely for the power play or whatever. No more perks will be purchased, as Raziel will simply develop his powers over time rather than just have them from the get-go. Cause I said so.

Also, for those who hadn't caught the references, Raziel here is basically a bastardization of Danny Phantom and Raziel from the Legacy of Kain series. I actually managed to find the second Soul Reaver game for less than a dollar on Steam. That has nothing to do with anything, I just wanted to flex.

Death is a bit more complicated. I was building a Danger Rating X build (cause why not) and was perusing the X and Y tier captures when I found Death from Final Destination. I was kinda thrown for a moment, considering Death was more of an intangible force in those movies than an actual character. However, I ran with it. Of course, Death here isn't just Final Destination Death, but an amalgam of different portrayals of death. Marvel's Mistress Death was the basis for her look, while Death from the Castlevania TV show formed most of her personality, desires, and her hunger. And, of course, her ability to cause "accidents" in the Material Realm was entirely based off of Final Destination. She's honestly what could happen if Qrow was able to control his semblance. Only exponentially stronger, as I'm sure you lot will see at some point or another.

This has been A Decent Hoonter, and just know that I will be taking liberties with the Waifu Catalog cause I can and fuck you.