The Undertaker ⌛ 001 [cloooosed~~]

[undertakerlol]

Characters: The Undertaker and the Medicine Seller
Location: The Library
Style: Third
Status: Closed.The Undertaker was a man of punctuality, surprisingly enough. Always on time, always meeting deadlines, and doing so with the best quality and care. Today was no exception. Even in this strange city, the Undertaker still retained his sense of time

Comments

[to_worlds_end]

Time was something that was fluid and dynamic for the Medicine Seller; when one lived eternally, one did not notice the passing of the days and the seasons as keenly as those tethered to the wheel of life. He was just always around, never aging, wandering and peddling his wares from place to place as the seas rose to mountains and the mountains crumbled to dust. But time--time could be of the importance, for when a mononoke struck, there was no waiting, no hesitating--a swift blaze of holy fire and ofuda, and he would never sleep, he would never stop--

And then, he was the Medicine Seller once more, strolling along, touched only by the rhythm of his geta as he walked along the roads of the world.

This was a new world--Vatheon, it was called. He lifted red eyes to the ring of water surrounding the quaint city, so unlike Japan--but not without its similarities. For everywhere, there was human life and emotion--and everywhere, there were ayakashi and mononoke waiting to strike

[undertakerlol]

The Undertaker was old, a man like him has seen war, famine, conquest, death. He was an ancient Death God, one who after so many years, understood the preciousness of life. There is an old Yiddish saying, "What soap is to the body, laughter is to the soul". That certainly described the Undertaker's view of laughter, why he indulges in it so. If laughter was like soap, then the Undertaker was next to godliness. He was a Death God.

The Undertaker's thin, pale mouth stretches into his trademark grin when he sees the Medicine Seller. He is a gentleman, and points the way to the main hall of the Library with his cane for the Medicine Seller. He does not mind that someone might be able to sense that his ancient scythe dwells within that strange cane. It doesn't matter to him. He always has it with him... should the occasion arise.

"Right on time, I see~~ Please please, come come~~! I've already had the pleasure of exploring this magnificent institution~~ So many books~ So little time~~"

And there goes the Undertaker about time again. Oh

[to_worlds_end]

There were almost of the same cloth, but only just; for where they both specialized in death, death came in many forms, and both dealt with something entirely different. For who would slay the gods when they could not slay themselves?

Ah, but that was not the Medicine Seller's business. His business revolved around demons--the spawn of hell and twisted, cloyed human emotion--and, of course, good herbs and medicines.

The retired god before him was a relic of the past, but he was still who he was. A shroud of Death himself, walking between two worlds.

Clop. Clop. Clop.

The chime of a bell.

"So little
    time
       indeed."

"Ah.
     Should I
     remove my
     shoes?"

[undertakerlol]

The Undertaker tilts his head at the mention of taking off shoes. The practices of other cultures were always so fascinating~

"I don't believe that is necessary~ Shall we find ourselves a table to place our things~?" The Undertaker motioned to the vast selection of table in the great hall where many residents already sat reading books.