The Death Of...

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by TheStory, Sep 1, 2013.

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  1. Jane Ramsey curled her fingers together, hands clasped in her lap. She was still adjusting to being brought back. Alive again, in a sense. She was made of the same flesh as before, a woman in her early thirties still too young to have died. Her hair was held back, honey brown in color, and her eyes were earthy. Right now they hid her feelings well. She was uneasy. Made more nervous by the fact she was speaking to some strange imp. Not something she would have believed to be real in her past life.

    It grinned with crooked teeth and fangs curled over the corners of its mouth. Its stocky body perpetually hunched with leathery wings folded to its back. It was preoccupied with the files in its hands only scratching one of its horns in thought now and then.
    "Your end was unfortunate." He tapped a claw on a page. "So soon. But it was a good life wasn't it? For the deal you struck? Health money and success? You should have haggled the price though. Eternity in servitude to the deceased is a long time."

    Jane's hands tightened and her posture stiffened. She didn't want to be here. She didn't remember ever making this pact. She must have been young when she was targeted for the job. But the strange white room held no doors. Not now. They appeared whenever she was meant to come or go. Leading to and from this strange dimension between death and the living world. How it worked was beyond her. She wasn't aware if it was the organization that controlled the doors or if she had any power to summon a threshold. She doubted she could because she deeply desired to escape right now.

    "How has your training been going as a Tracker?" The imp must have picked up on her anger and wanted to change the subject. Her cheeks did feel flushed. Partly of embarrassment for that dumb contract.

    "Fine." She breathed in a sigh. Tracker. That was only one of the words used to describe her new position. Depending on who you were speaking to in the organization they called it something different. Hunters, Guides, Ghost Ushers, but Tracker seemed to be the most common name. Jane rose a hand demonstrating a skill she had been learning. Being brought back came with some strange changes to her physiology. The tips of her fingers became transparent and then disappeared, soon followed by her hand and forearm. If she focused hard enough she could have vanished all together.
    She allowed herself to solidify once again.

    "Very good." The imp clapped its hands together and dropped its papers onto the single desk in the otherwise empty room. "Good to know you are catching on quick!" It winked at her and she could only grimace at the ugly creature. "because we are going to start you on your first mission. Nothing better than learning on the job."

    "Wait!" Jane was quick to her feet. "You are going to send me out on my own? Already? I still want to talk to someone about this. An authority. I think its a mistake I was brought here in the first place."

    The imp moved behind the desk dropped into its chair. It began to smile that gnarled smile again as it brought the tips of its fingers together, surveying the woman. "No it is not a mistake. Even if I wanted to I could not break this contract. It is more than just paper." It tilted its head. "And you are not going alone. I think we should bring your new partner in."
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  2. After having worked in the organisation alone for the past one hundred and fifty years, the angel agent, Abraham, was surprised to receive notice that he was being assigned a partner. Not only that, but she was new to everything still, as if his current job wasn't already hard enough without having to teach and babysit someone still adjusting, not to mention one who was previously mortal of all things. Like many others they were both commonly referred to as Trackers, although Abraham preferred and used the term Guides, particularly when referring to himself. He was after all guiding them along to their deaths where they belonged, a rather suiting post-Heaven career following his estrangement from the celestial God. Much to his surprise, nothing remarkable had happened when he left Heaven and Abraham had even kept his wings and other angelic powers. All in all he was untouched, something he still didn't understand but was the one thing he ever thanked God for. Out on past adventures he had heard many times from Raphael about this place, the organisation that worked for death. Individuals who signed their souls away in contracts and made to do the dirty work, sometimes only for the more difficult targets. It wasn't the easiest job, but on most days it wasn't particularly hard, either. Most Summoners as they were most commonly called, or the contract owners, would usually allow their imprisoned souls to bring forth death through whatever means necessary or desired. Thanks to this loose law Abraham thoroughly enjoyed himself in Raphael's absence over the past century and a half. But now that was all going to change, something Abraham did not like to happen unless on his watch. A thing he had escaped God for in the first place. A new partner didn't fit into his plans, it wasn't part of his contract, and would no doubt impede his progression forward. The only thing he could actually do was accept this assignment however, considering the way things worked within the organisation, which is to say only the Summoners had any power or made any rulings, regardless of Abraham's former history. He would be silenced before he could finish his sentence and besides, it wasn't in his plan. He'd have to continue slightly astray with this new partner and work it out as best he could.

    Destroying the paper notice in his hand the angel made his way out of his door, always appreciating how any communication was given right before the event, for which he had learned to always kept himself dressed appropriately. This time he was wearing black oxfords matched with black slacks, a dark grey buttoned undershirt, and a black suit jacket to go over. He wore a simple silver watch on his right hand and left his long brown hair free, reaching to his mid back and rushing behind him in streams as he hurried along to the given location, reaching the door in a few minutes' travel. He stood before the door and slicked his back back his his hand and straightened his shirt and jacket, making himself presentable to come in. The door solidified when he was ready and he grabbed the black handle, opening it and swinging the door open, stepping inside, seeing a human woman in about her thirties with darker brown hair and eyes than his. "She is my partner?" He inquired to the imp, the angel's eye sharp.

    "Yes, assigned by a mutual decision from both of your Summoners," he confirmed, surprising Abraham with the extra information. He nodded in understanding before looking at the woman, his eyes taking her in once more, positive he had never seen her and wondering what the hell he was going to do to her. Looking back at the imp, the angel decided to speed things along, wanting to get the first day over with. "What is the mission?"
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