Post-It: ETD 00:03am [Video]

[maced_eggs]

I don't understand the death toll.

No, I do, I mean. I know how it works. You die, Admiral brings you back, you're up and bouncing again in a week's time.

But I mean.

Who's taking your soul out before you go? Are people's souls staying in their bodies through their deaths? That's why it hurts so much to come back?

That's the most horrible thing I've ever heard in my life.

Someone give me back my powers and my fuckin' Post-its. Or a drink. Or all three. I want to take souls again, I've changed my mind. This place is awful.


[Spam for Dark Heart]

[By some small miracle, Mason's managed to find his room again, nestled safely on the fourth floor between Gary and Dean. He remembers it only when he's able to find one of the two on the ship and them follow them back to their rooms.

Here, he's fast asleep after a long and trying week, his muscles twinging and aching. He's under his smelly, stained comforter in a terrible Murphy bed with springs popped up all through the mattress, clothes spread everywhere. Home sweet home]

Comments

[maced_eggs]

That's good. That means you're not dead.

Souls are invisible to the living. I can see 'em. Usually.

You can't.

[praesidium]

How long have you been reaping?

[maced_eggs]

Somewhere over forty years. Near about.

[praesidium]

Forty years?

[Alana doesn't know what she was expecting to hear and she can't quite tell if that seems a little much or a little under.]

I guess being here would seem a little unnatural after that long.

[maced_eggs]

I know, I know, I look young. You get to stay the same age you died at; s'why I'll always be twenty-seven, eternally.

S'a good club, dead at twenty-seven. Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Brian Jones, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain. All dead at twenty-seven.

[praesidium]

If you died, why haven't you been allowed to move on like everyone else? [A beat.] Prior to coming the Barge, of course.

[maced_eggs]

I filled some bloke's quota. Gotta do my fair share of reaping before I'm allowed to go on. Wherever 'on' is.

[praesidium]

So you were the last soul another reaper reaped?

[maced_eggs]

I was. Yeah.

[praesidium]

And that's the only reason you became a reaper? That seems a little unfair.

[maced_eggs]

'Course it's unfair. Death is not fair. If it were, all children would grow old and you would only die when you were so tired of living any longer.

[praesidium]

Some would argue that death is the only thing in life that is fair though.

[maced_eggs]

I can promise you that those someones aren't reapers. Death is not fair at all.

[praesidium]

I'm sorry you were put in that position, Mason.

[maced_eggs]

Yeah. Well. It also means I can do what I like and never get hurt for it.

I can still get into trouble, though. I'm not invisible. An' I have to keep a low profile, can't reap people when you're in prison, yes?

[praesidium]

No offense, but I'm not sure you know the meaning of the words "low profile."

[maced_eggs]

...I'm usually much less conspicuous. But I mean, if death is happening, people don't notice the bloke in the corner nicking their purses.

[praesidium]

...Was that meant to be encouraging?

[maced_eggs]

It was meant to be the truth. I'm not lying to your face, love. I steal things. A lot of things.

[praesidium]

So you're a cereal thief after all?

[maced_eggs]

...Yeahhhh.