Writing: The Reaper and His Courier
Title The Reaper and His Courier
Fandom: Original, NaNo Attempt
Summary Landon is a reaper, one of the many Angels of Death, tasked with carrying those over the bridge between life and death. Death is something he knows, something he 'lives', something he likes to think won't surprise him. Life on the other hand, constantly surprises him, normally in ways he doesn't like.
Ephraim is his courier, often sent to deliver notices of death to the other reapers that live in the city. Ephraim is good at his job, he knows every backstreet, every shortcut, every inch of the city and is known for getting his jobs done in a timely fashion. When Ephraim suddenly quits, claiming his sister has been kidnapped and that she comes first above all else, Landon is left without his courier, but with an idea of who is responsible for the deed.
In an attempt to get his courier back, Landon agrees to help Ephraim without really knowing why. Is it simply because Ephraim is good at his job, or has he become attached, something reapers should never do?
The Reaper and His Courier
Chapter 1
Landon was waiting for him.
He stood his ground, stared at the reaper before him. It was intimidating. Tall in height, an air of arrogance about it and a demeanour that turned Ephraim's insides to jelly when he set eyes on it. He wanted to run, to get the hell out of that damp house, where mould grew on every wall and the floor boards splintered and cracked the moment one looked at them. He couldn't. He had to stay.
"Landon has no messenger boy," the reaper was saying, eyes narrowed, hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly. It stood up and began to circle him. In that moment, Ephraim felt every bit the prey he looked like.
Be respectful, his mind told him, or at least one part of his mind. The other part wanted to snap at it, to answer back snidely. He held his tongue. "I've been his courier for years now, ask him yourself," Ephraim told the reaper.
The reaper scowled at him. "What do you have to prove? I do not believe you, that is enough for me."
Arrogant bastard, Ephraim couldn't help but think. He held back a sigh then went to reach into his back pocket. The reaper was in front of him in a flash, hand poised at his heart and pressing against his skin. He'd seen a reaper kill someone before like this, rip their very heart out from their chest. It had been Landon that time and it was something he never wanted to see again.
Ephraim swallowed hard.
"Take the note out of my jeans, it's Landon's handwriting," he said.
The hand at his chest pressed harder, drawing blood. "You will show respect towards him!" the reaper snapped.
Damn it, should've known I'd catch hell for calling him by his first name in front of someone, Ephraim cursed himself. While Landon had become used to Ephraim doing this, merely sighing in resignation, other reapers were nowhere near as tolerant.
Nonetheless, the reaper moved slowly out of sight, roughly reaching into the pocket Ephraim had indicated to. It unfolded the paper, grunting once it had read over it. It returned to his line of sight and thrust the paper at him.
"It is true. That is Mr Abrams's handwriting," it said. Its arms were folded, and already it was turning away, ready to leave on the job that the note detailed. "Tell him I will get it done."
With that, the reaper left.
Once alone, Ephraim sighed loudly and pulled his t-shirt away from his chest to check the small wound. It would heal quickly enough, if he left it alone, Mhairi would make sure he did. He ran a hand through his hair, which seemed to be even more unruly that morning, then made his way out of the house.
"You're late, courier," Landon stated, seconds after Ephraim had entered the room and seconds before he could open his mouth to announce that he was there at all.
Idly, Ephraim wondered if the reaper would ever call him by name instead of 'courier'. The reaper had done so since he started working for him. Years had passed and still it was the same.
"What was the reason for the delay?" Landon said. He turned around to face him this time, face expressionless as always.
Ephraim shrugged. "He didn't believe who I was," he told him.
"And how did you convince him? He's not known for taking things at face value."
Ephraim frowned slightly. This was a test, Landon did this sometimes. He cleared his throat. "I gave him the note, your handwriting was enough to convince him I was who I said."
Landon merely nodded. "As long as he is convinced and carrying out the job, that is all I need to know."
"Is that it then? You don't need me for anything else this evening?"
The reaper shook his head. "Nothing else." He paused and raised an eyebrow. "Why? Do you have somewhere urgent you need to be?"
Ephraim nodded. "My sister's got a place of her own, wanted to check on how she was."
"I see."
Once more, Ephraim frowned at his boss. "You've got another job lined up, haven't you?"
Landon let one of his very rare smiles slip across his face and chuckled quietly. It never failed to surprise Ephraim just how different the reaper seemed, compared to his usual cold, stern attitude. "No, no. I'm sure your sister would appreciate your presence far more than what I will," Landon said. He turned away.
Ephraim glanced at the door, then back to Landon. "You don't have any more jobs?"
"I do, but they can wait."
"Why are you being so reasonable this evening?" He cursed himself immediately, sure that the normally tolerant reaper would lose his temper.
Landon's eyebrows shot up, yet nothing of the sort happened. "You are getting brave. I'm simply in a good mood, is that a crime?"
Ephraim held his hands up in defense and shook his head quickly. "No, no. God no. It's simply...unusual. I'm not used to it."
Landon turned away completely. The conversation was over and the reaper had work to do. Ephraim took the hint.
"Guess I'll be on my way then," he said.
"You do that," Landon answered, already busy with a pile of papers sitting on a nearby desk.
Ephraim said nothing more and left the house without so much as a glance back.
Feedback very much appreciated with this as I'm not sure whether to continue or not.
Fandom: Original, NaNo Attempt
Summary Landon is a reaper, one of the many Angels of Death, tasked with carrying those over the bridge between life and death. Death is something he knows, something he 'lives', something he likes to think won't surprise him. Life on the other hand, constantly surprises him, normally in ways he doesn't like.
Ephraim is his courier, often sent to deliver notices of death to the other reapers that live in the city. Ephraim is good at his job, he knows every backstreet, every shortcut, every inch of the city and is known for getting his jobs done in a timely fashion. When Ephraim suddenly quits, claiming his sister has been kidnapped and that she comes first above all else, Landon is left without his courier, but with an idea of who is responsible for the deed.
In an attempt to get his courier back, Landon agrees to help Ephraim without really knowing why. Is it simply because Ephraim is good at his job, or has he become attached, something reapers should never do?
The Reaper and His Courier
Chapter 1
Landon was waiting for him.
He stood his ground, stared at the reaper before him. It was intimidating. Tall in height, an air of arrogance about it and a demeanour that turned Ephraim's insides to jelly when he set eyes on it. He wanted to run, to get the hell out of that damp house, where mould grew on every wall and the floor boards splintered and cracked the moment one looked at them. He couldn't. He had to stay.
"Landon has no messenger boy," the reaper was saying, eyes narrowed, hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly. It stood up and began to circle him. In that moment, Ephraim felt every bit the prey he looked like.
Be respectful, his mind told him, or at least one part of his mind. The other part wanted to snap at it, to answer back snidely. He held his tongue. "I've been his courier for years now, ask him yourself," Ephraim told the reaper.
The reaper scowled at him. "What do you have to prove? I do not believe you, that is enough for me."
Arrogant bastard, Ephraim couldn't help but think. He held back a sigh then went to reach into his back pocket. The reaper was in front of him in a flash, hand poised at his heart and pressing against his skin. He'd seen a reaper kill someone before like this, rip their very heart out from their chest. It had been Landon that time and it was something he never wanted to see again.
Ephraim swallowed hard.
"Take the note out of my jeans, it's Landon's handwriting," he said.
The hand at his chest pressed harder, drawing blood. "You will show respect towards him!" the reaper snapped.
Damn it, should've known I'd catch hell for calling him by his first name in front of someone, Ephraim cursed himself. While Landon had become used to Ephraim doing this, merely sighing in resignation, other reapers were nowhere near as tolerant.
Nonetheless, the reaper moved slowly out of sight, roughly reaching into the pocket Ephraim had indicated to. It unfolded the paper, grunting once it had read over it. It returned to his line of sight and thrust the paper at him.
"It is true. That is Mr Abrams's handwriting," it said. Its arms were folded, and already it was turning away, ready to leave on the job that the note detailed. "Tell him I will get it done."
With that, the reaper left.
Once alone, Ephraim sighed loudly and pulled his t-shirt away from his chest to check the small wound. It would heal quickly enough, if he left it alone, Mhairi would make sure he did. He ran a hand through his hair, which seemed to be even more unruly that morning, then made his way out of the house.
"You're late, courier," Landon stated, seconds after Ephraim had entered the room and seconds before he could open his mouth to announce that he was there at all.
Idly, Ephraim wondered if the reaper would ever call him by name instead of 'courier'. The reaper had done so since he started working for him. Years had passed and still it was the same.
"What was the reason for the delay?" Landon said. He turned around to face him this time, face expressionless as always.
Ephraim shrugged. "He didn't believe who I was," he told him.
"And how did you convince him? He's not known for taking things at face value."
Ephraim frowned slightly. This was a test, Landon did this sometimes. He cleared his throat. "I gave him the note, your handwriting was enough to convince him I was who I said."
Landon merely nodded. "As long as he is convinced and carrying out the job, that is all I need to know."
"Is that it then? You don't need me for anything else this evening?"
The reaper shook his head. "Nothing else." He paused and raised an eyebrow. "Why? Do you have somewhere urgent you need to be?"
Ephraim nodded. "My sister's got a place of her own, wanted to check on how she was."
"I see."
Once more, Ephraim frowned at his boss. "You've got another job lined up, haven't you?"
Landon let one of his very rare smiles slip across his face and chuckled quietly. It never failed to surprise Ephraim just how different the reaper seemed, compared to his usual cold, stern attitude. "No, no. I'm sure your sister would appreciate your presence far more than what I will," Landon said. He turned away.
Ephraim glanced at the door, then back to Landon. "You don't have any more jobs?"
"I do, but they can wait."
"Why are you being so reasonable this evening?" He cursed himself immediately, sure that the normally tolerant reaper would lose his temper.
Landon's eyebrows shot up, yet nothing of the sort happened. "You are getting brave. I'm simply in a good mood, is that a crime?"
Ephraim held his hands up in defense and shook his head quickly. "No, no. God no. It's simply...unusual. I'm not used to it."
Landon turned away completely. The conversation was over and the reaper had work to do. Ephraim took the hint.
"Guess I'll be on my way then," he said.
"You do that," Landon answered, already busy with a pile of papers sitting on a nearby desk.
Ephraim said nothing more and left the house without so much as a glance back.
Feedback very much appreciated with this as I'm not sure whether to continue or not.