It Means Really, Really Painful.

I don't want to lose anything.

Imagine the world was completely different, all because one thing was gone. All of a sudden, we don't have Money--never had Money, in fact. All of human history (and everyone else's, but let's take baby steps) is different because we never learned how to generally accept a thing as payment for all sorts of other things. We never randomly assigned easily-carried stuff more worth. Our governments never declared something as legal tender. We all still bartered for other goods and services. Keep the change.

Bad enough, and it could happen. Now what if that thing we lost was Hope?

And what if it happened an uncountable times (by definition) before, and we have no idea what the world could have been like?

I don't want to lose Ambition. I'm not a major practitioner, myself, but without it, no one would try to better their life. Plus, I think people might try to suck up to me, nowadays.

I don't want to lose Transgression. It's nice to break the rules, especially when too many of the rules were written by selfish pricks.

I don't want to get ride of anything. Too many things are tied together--annihilating one weakens the things close to it, and the world could be so different.

No offense, boss, but what the Hell is Colbrand, anyway?

~M

Your Own, Personal...

...Death spirits. Sort of.

They aren't that individual. I mean, they are, but only for your death, or the death of that fly over there.

Death spirits form and act when a death occurs. So, when the slob over at Pyron's Attic swats a fly, a death spirit manifests for that death and takes what's left of the fly's spirit to whatever awaits it (which is weird enough). Then the death spirit unmanifests, goes back into the "Pool of Death," if you will, and eventually goes out for another reaping.

I like that term--very "Dead Like Me." I'll use it from now on.

So, everyone has a death spirit personalized for their...experience. Not to say all deaths are truly unique; wash your hands and then ask the dead bacteria if they feel like individuals. The "reapers" are formed for the occasion, though--feel special. You're final moment is important to us.

~Matthew

Damnit, Nephele!

I went to deposit a check today.

I actually got all the way to the bank doors and read the sign before I remembered that I saw a similar sign a few weeks back, warning people that the bank would be honoring Columbus Day by refusing to serve people.

On a more local level, this means I don't have cash. Which means I'm writing this, instead of celebrating having money with a nice, juicy burger for my lunch break.

I don't know if there's a Holidays, but this whole predicament stinks of Nephele Nikolatis. She's Festivals, and I'd be surprised if she doesn't have a twinkle of power over holidays, too. Too many holidays (of the National sort), mean harder times for the people that have it hardest. For instance, the buses don't usually run on these days. But alot of service industry and factory jobs don't have the day off--so the people most likely to rely on buses (because they can't always afford cars) have to walk, beg a ride, or hire a cab. Banks are closed. So people who depend more on cash transactions are inconvenienced more than people who have enough in the bank (and investments) that they usually don't need to be careful of how they use their debit cards.

I'm sure I could think of more ways this is dragging the little man down further, but it just occurred to me that I could change a person's death into a cheeseburger. With or without bacon.

It'd be a strain, but it could be a really, really awesome burger, with fries. Soda I can get for free (and I need to get back to work after this, so no beer, sadly). Imagine the surprise....

"Ow! I just got hit and run over by that car. My...my neck feels wrong--I can't straighten it out...and that goth guy is just smiling, watching me while eating a cheeseburger? What the hell?"

For the record, I'm not goth. Well, maybe I am, but it's not really a life choice. I've become...hue-challenged. Anyway.

I can't just do that sort of thing, though--of course I can't. The poor victim would probably eventually lose it, convinced that he should be dead, but convinced that he's fine. He'd start seeing things--maybe his death would start talking to him, and then he'd be stuck. Dementia animus, loony bin time. Or, even if he was fine, I'd probably get a visit from something like Destiny or Fate. Or I'd be called in to talk to Him.

I should be getting back to work. If you're reading this, Festivals---give a guy a break for the next one, okay?

~Death