(Untitled)

[cenizasquedaran]

[Suddenly, a grim reaper, scythe and all, is standing in front of you.]

Bienvenido al campamento. Okay, newcomers--definitely deads to the left, live ones to the right. I can answer your questions, but only if you help me out a little in return.

((Ninja-intro in here if you like. Everyone is welcome. Mingle.))

Comments

[computerjackoff]

People can figure out stuff on their own.

[cenizasquedaran]

Doesn't hurt to ask a professional, kid.

[computerjackoff]

So what, you're a professional on camp?

[cenizasquedaran]

A professional on death! An agent of death, actually. I don't carry my certificate everywhere, but it's hanging in my office if you don't believe me.

[computerjackoff]

Don't tell me you're the grim reaper.

[cenizasquedaran]

What tipped you off?

[computerjackoff]

Wait, seriously?

[cenizasquedaran]

Of course. I'm Camp's "Travel Agent."

[computerjackoff]

You should have stuck with your day job. People can't leave here.

[cenizasquedaran]

Believe me, I know. This is preemptive--I like keeping organized.

[computerjackoff]

It still seems stupid. I thought the only place you could take people to was the afterlife.

[cenizasquedaran]

Normally, you'd be right. Here, though, things get more complicated.

[computerjackoff]

That still doesn't make you an expert on camp.

[cenizasquedaran]

Did I say I was?

[computerjackoff]

You implied it when you called yourself a professional.

[cenizasquedaran]

Sorry, then. Didn't mean to.