death aus.

[gipsy_danger]

[ yanked from the love you to death shipping meme. ]

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this is no earthquake, honey; you just got sober;

[truckerhats]

[fuck. everything.

fuck superheroes. fuck q-core. and fuck oliver goddamn queen.

fuck them straight to hell -- because roy's pretty sure he'll see them there, anyway.

to say things had been going well with ollie would, well...that would be a ghastly exaggeration. it had been great at first -- going out and being a hero, fighting crime, having all the resources at his disposal that he could ever dream of.

it was great.

until things started spiraling out of control, and then ollie was just done with him. it was a pretty big fuck-up, roy had to admit, but the fact that oliver was so eager to kick him to the curb, that it was so easy for him...

...now that really stung.

maybe he wasn't dealing with it in the healthiest (okay, not even a little bit healthy) of ways, but it sure as hell felt a lot better than just stewing in his own self-pity and anger. his friends weren't there for him, and well, he doesn't blame them; he's reached such a point of being so goddamn down, that it just doesn't get any downer than roy fucking harper.

so fuck everything.

he's tired, he's miserable, and he's drunk as hell, and that's exactly how he likes it.

there's bottles all around him -- empty, half-full, even a couple he hadn't gotten to yet -- and he's barely even aware of himself by that point; the easiest way for him to function. he's sore from a recent beating he went out looking for (because picking fights is a great way to get those bruises and that pain that reassures him that he's not falling apart at the seams as much as he thought he was), but tonight, he's too exhausted for that.

he's content to stay curled up with a bottle, staring blankly at the ceiling as he taps absently at the dirty apartment floor (which he's honestly surprised he hasn't been evicted from yet, but he's sure that's coming eventually).]

[unbreachable]

[ He doesn't remember how long he's been doing this. There's a few others like him; 'angels' of death, employed by the powers that be to reap those that are on their way into the realm of the immortal. He's a guide, a sentinel - and he thinks maybe at one point he was human, thousands and thousands of lifetimes ago but he doesn't remember anything about that life except his name.

Raleigh.

Not that that's something he goes by, anymore. It's the only piece of himself that he can remember but his name isn't important in the grand scheme of things.

He's called 'Death' - like his brethren - but there's many names for his kind.

Interfector..Killer. Murderer.

Mortifer..Deadly. Fatal.

Death has many names and Raleigh's heard them all, seen them all. He's had people try to bribe him, try to hurt him, fight him. He's seen people scream and cry and beg for their life, and he's had people take his hand willingly, eager to move on into the next passage, desperate for peace, mortal bodies exhausted with the burden life can bring.

This time it seems to be the latter; the kind of person that's done with life, that's drinking himself into liver failure at a rapid pace.

He appears out of nowhere amidst the bottles, black cloak swirling around his ankles, scythe silent as he rests the end of it on the floor.

He doesn't say anything, just looks over him, staring down from the cowl that hides his face. ]

[truckerhats]

[roy may be three sheets to the wind by now, but his instincts are still fairly sharp, and he immediately turns when he catches movement out of the corner of his eye -- subtle, barely there, but as his gaze focuses, he sees it: the cloaked figure with...what the fuck, is that a scythe?]

Okay... [his words are a little slurred, but he sets aside his bottle, sitting up and scrutinizing raleigh.]

Gotta admit, I didn't think I pissed anyone off enough to get some weird...hit put out on me. Seriously, dude, what-- what kinda assassin uses a fuckin' scythe? Talk about impractical.

[roy just laughs as he keeps looking raleigh up and down, clearly not taking him very seriously -- because when does roy take things seriously?]

[unbreachable]

[ Every so often, Raleigh runs into a situation like this. It's not terribly often, but it's often enough that the reaction isn't a complete surprise.

Not the first time he's had to prove himself, not that he really needs to, grabbing them and dragging them is just as easy but Raleigh prefers subtlety and gentility.

Sort of. ]

I'm not an assassin.

[ His voice is low, smooth and warm like velvet but with a razor's edge, an unearthly gravel to it. ]

Not technically, anyway.

[truckerhats]

[roy cocks his head, and then just chuckles and slumps back against the wall.]

'm too fuckin' drunk for riddles, dude.

[he waves a hand dismissively, turning his eyes to look raleigh over a little more.]

So, not actually an assassin or somethin'. But y'know, you kinda look like you and Batman might be friends, actually. I mean, dark, broody, gravelly voice that'll freak the hell outta people -- you've got it down, man -- but maybe a sexier voice than his, maybe.

[fuck, he is so drunk right now.

he squints at raleigh, reaching up to push his messy hair out of his face.]

No way you're friends with Ollie, though, noooo way. He's not sendin' somebody in. Bats might, maybe. But far as I know, he's not runnin' with any weirdos with huge scythes -- but I've been outta the loop for a while, so who knows.

[he laughs dryly, letting his head thunk lightly back against the wall.]

[unbreachable]

[ Raleigh exhales, and kneels down in front of Roy, scythe thumping quietly on the ground -- but it's enough to make the entire house tremble. Windows rattle in their panes, doors creak open, knick knacks fall from their shelves. ]

I am here for you, and you only, Roy Harper. I'm not interested in Batman or anyone named Ollie.

[ He breathes out again and it's ice cold, freezing fingers of Death creeping over Roy's skin. ]

Just you.

[truckerhats]

[roy feels his breathing stutter when Raleigh gets close to him, feels the earth quake gently beneath him.]

...you sure know how to make an impression.

[he shudders as raleigh's fingers brush over his skin, and he frowns as he reaches up, snatching at his hand -- though he immediately drops raleigh's fingers like he's been scalded.]

F-fuck, you're like ice.

[yeah, the creep factor is edging higher and higher the longer raleigh stays close to him, and his eyes sweep rapidly over raleigh, before settling on the hidden face he can't make out.]

What...exactly are you?

[unbreachable]

[ The cowl blacks everything out. Roy can try all he likes to see Raleigh's face, but he won't be able to. Not unless Raleigh wills it, and even then..

If he were, he'd see a skeletal face with empty sockets, the appearance that Raleigh takes when trying to make a point.

Roy may yet see it, after all. ]

I have many names.. [ He sighs. ]

Thanatos..Cù Sìth.. Śmierć.. Giltinė.

[ Another long, drawn out sigh. ]

Most know me simply as Death, these days.

[truckerhats]

[roy stares at raleigh for a long, quiet moment.]

...well, that's not creepy at all.

[he barks a short laugh, though there's a nervous edge to it.]

Man, I dunno, I thought you might have evolved with the times after doing the death thing for...for, y'know, so many years, but, uh, I guess the cloak and scythe thing is pretty classic.

[he gnaws at his lip, staring at what he can of raleigh.]

I've, uh, I've always wondered, y'know. Do you really have that whole skull thing going on under e-everything? Or is that just 'cause everyone knows to freak the fuck out when they see a skull that can talk?

[unbreachable]

[ There's a snuffle underneath the hood that might actually be a quiet chuckle. Raleigh - Death, as he's far more familiar with these days - settles back on his haunches and uses the scythe for balence. ]

It's what people expect.

[ He can't believe he's bantering like this. ]

Do you want to see?

[truckerhats]

Kinda?

[call it morbid fascination, if nothing else.]

Does your jawbone move and everything when you talk?

[unbreachable]

[ He snorts and settles on the floor. Roy is drinking himself to death, but he's not quite there. Raleigh knows that in the end, this will just be a scare visit -- Roy took himself close enough to court death, perhaps this will be a lesson learned. ]

Suppose you'll find out.

[truckerhats]

...does that mean I'm not gonna see it now?

[he actually looks mildly disappointed; he's drunk enough that he's less focused on the idea of dying and moreso on how totally wicked it would be to see a talking skull...head...thing.]

before us great Death stands; our fate held close within his quiet hands.

[truckerhats]

[roy's brush with death had done a lot for him; he'd shaped up, dropped the booze, and bounced back faster than ever. he'd surprised everyone around him by his eagerness to get himself into a program, stay sober, stay himself, though roy wasn't back to bonding with his old friends just yet. he didn't tell anyone why he was still alive, but he knows that if it hadn't been for raleigh, he wouldn't be now, and his friends would have been none the wiser. part of him isn't even sure there would have been a funeral if he had gone off with raleigh that night, and acknowledging it leaves him feeling shaken, a little hollow.

he's his usual buoyant self whenever he ends up coming in contact with old friends, but he's not really open with them; it's more of a surface friendliness, the sort of thing that keeps anything else that's real below a mask of silly grins and bad jokes.

but roy is pretty okay existing like that.

he's quickly back to being arsenal -- this time without any team affiliation. he's happy going solo (even if he is the kind of person who's always desperately in need of other people), and he keeps his nose out of everyone else's business and expects the same courtesy.

there are, however, some unfortunate setbacks to working on your own.

such as lacking backup when you're in a tight spot.

he's pinned down in a corner, nearly out of arrows, when the first bullet gets him in the chest. it knocks him backwards, leaving him vulnerable, and at first, his armor is enough to keep the bullet from getting to his skin (though he feels the heavy impact rock through him). but when he's open, unable to duck immediately, he takes more and more hits until, finally, the armor breaks and blood blooms across his chest.

the thugs he'd been trying to nail seem satisfied when he crumples in a heap, and through the haze of pain and blood, roy hears them laugh. out of the corner of his eye, he sees someone stomp their heel into his bow before kicking it away.

fuckers...

he waits until they've cleared the area before he hits the distress beacon on his wrist, hoping someone will get to him in time.

if not, he supposes this all means he'll see death again. he wonders if it'll be the same one who saved him before.]

[unbreachable]

[ 'Thanatos' - Raleigh - doesn't have time to keep tabs on anyone. Not Roy, not Joe Schmoe, not the kid walking on a cliffs edge in Ireland.

Unless one is very close to death, Raleigh isn't aware of their predicament. And, as the universe would have it, there are a lot of people close to death at any given time.

It's why there's more than one Death, more than one sentinel - guide to the afterlife.

And as fate dictates, there will always be someone to greet you when you perish, and as Roy starts slipping away, it's Raleigh that appears by his side again, tsking behind his cowl. ]

Roy Harper...

[truckerhats]

[ roy lifts his head at the sound of a familiar voice, and a crooked grin tugs at his lips.]

Well. [cough.] Lookie here. Thought you might show up.

[ but he's...really hoping someone will show up before raleigh has to take him.]

[unbreachable]

What did I tell you before about staying out of trouble?

[ He sighs, the action a cool rush of air that travels over Roy's face. ]

[truckerhats]

[the cold breath makes him shudder, but it still feels almost soothing.]

Hey, hey, I've been staying outta trouble. Been pretty good about it. Tonight was just, uh, a miscalculation.

[he chuckles, but it makes him wince, and he reaches down to curl an arm around himself.]

[unbreachable]

This doesn't look like staying out of trouble.

[ He's giving you a look Roy, even if you can't see it. ]

Are those bullet wounds?

[truckerhats]

Got it in one.

[roy grins and tries not to laugh because it hurts like hell when he does.]

Guess you never really got to see me do my usual work, huh? Or do you know everything about the people you're supposed t' carry off into the afterlife?

[unbreachable]

[ He sighs, and kneels down next to Roy again, taking his appearence and condition in.

Prognosis: not good. ]

I know enough, Arsenal. [ Dry. ]

I know that you didn't listen.

[truckerhats]

Oh, hey, look, that's my name.

[his smile is a little loopy, just because of the bloodloss now.]

I tried to listen. Did a pretty good job for a bit. Just, uh...not tonight.

[he rolls over onto his side, wheezing out a cough at the pressure it puts on his chest, but he curls his arm around his chest with a wince.]

What else was I going to do with myself, though? I mean...really. M'not really good at anything else.

[unbreachable]

[ He's not supposed to help. He isn't supposed to interfere. He'd done it once before for Roy, and that should have been the end of it.

But he can't help it.

He reaches out and steadies Roy by gripping his shoulder with one hand and reaching in to press his palm over the wound with his other. ]

Aren't you, though?

[truckerhats]

[roy's breath catches when raleigh's hand presses over his chest, but he can feel everything mending itself, even if it hurts. he whimpers softly, reaching up to grab onto raleigh's wrist.]

M'good at being Arsenal.

[he shakes his head, looking down at raleigh's hand and then up to the faceless cowl.]

What're you doing?

[not that he isn't grateful, but...he's so confused.]

[unbreachable]

Interfering.

[ An honest answer, even if it's a little vague. He doesn't give reasons, doesn't give an explanation. He just heals and mends, the bullet eventually clinking to the floor as Roy's body heals itself up. ]