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Thread Contributor: SethAt Death's Door
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#1
There were few constants in life, but one such thing was death. It was the domain that most influenced him, what he was best known for, but Seth held other domains: storms, bodies of water, desert, the sky. He didn’t revel in death, but it was his duty to oversee it, to make sure those freed souls went to where they were meant to.

Every once in a while, there would be an event where many would die, where there would be a cacophony of souls crying out for guidance.

This was not, it seemed, one of those such events. The island fell upon the city with a great displacement of air and rubble, but they had been lucky; no souls cried out to him, but there was one that hovered in the in-between, one who might not yet be dead but she would soon join him in the veil. It was a familiar soul. One blessed by more than one god, but not least of all himself.

Belle Street. The god didn’t run, he didn’t seem to move. One moment he stood on the street, not even facing the fallen island, and the next he was there, standing within the veil that separated the living from the dead, hidden from view but far from powerless. He hadn’t pushed her to the arch, no, that had been her own instinct and intellect, but now he did keep the unconscious, achingly injured woman alive, breathing. Mercy? Perhaps not, but he could help her in other, better ways, once she was safely away from this would-be crypt. For now, he enveloped her with his own essence, keeping her safe from death until the help he could already feel coming could pull her further from the fate that he fought back from her.
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#2
“You-” Death appeared in her preferred female form here in hub; one she shared comically with his chosen Mate. “Are meddling.” her stark black blazer gaped slightly in the front as she leaned on a silver headed cane, flared skirt flowing into the shadows of the realm, part of it and apart.

“Now.” she smiled pleasantly, “This is not a universe of yours, and it has in fact been home to my own self for quite a while.” she cocked her head. “This child is not of any faith of yours, you have no call on her soul.” she nodded to the judeo christian angel winging his way in almost slow motion towards the shattered body. “If anyone he would.” she nodded to the more dead than alive girl. “This is a cruelty. Let the child have her well deserved peace.”
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#3
Seth arched a brow at the woman, Death, he’d recognize anywhere of course, no matter that she looked like his Beloved just now. He glanced at her before frowning down at Belle. She had been so kind to him, treating him well even though he’d been nothing to her, a stranger, a man alone. She had not viewed him as a god, she hadn’t found him frightening or vile. She had welcomed him, had fed him, had taken the time to speak with him.

And in return, he had given her his blessing.

“I have made no claim on her soul, no.” He eyed Death carefully, giving no quarter here; his aura did not draw away from Belle, keeping her wrapped gently in his grasp and protecting her from crossing the veil. “And I do not care who would. I do not care who she worships or where her faith lies.” His voice was more gentle, speaking those words, than he’d cared to be in a millenia. “But I gave her my blessing, and I will not simply abandon her.”

Well deserved peace. Seth snorted at the phrase. “There is not always peace in death. We both know this. And everyone deserves it when they die.” They didn’t always get it, though, now did they? “They are coming to save her. Another moment, and they will have her, and none other than the two of us will even know I was here. They will say she is ‘lucky’ and that you were kind. What harm is there in allowing her to survive? To be rescued?” He looked back down to the woman they argued over, “I will make certain that her survival is no cruelty, if those coming will not.”

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#4
Death’s lip pulled into her trademark grin; “this child…” she shook her head, “She is becoming far more than was planned you know.” Death tisked. “She was meant to be a creature of life and love, burning brightly but touching only a few, fading quickly as all mortals do. And now…” Death could only shake her head again. “Beloved by a ghost, Befriended by a God of Death, holding an Artifact of Hell…” This had not been her path.

“It would be kinder I think to let her go now. Before she becomes something she was never meant to be.” Death looked at Seth almost pittingly. “Is that not kindness? To release her before she wanders into a unhappy path? Here and now she will leave her mark, be remembered for her kindness and love. In the coming years…” Death shrugged. “Silly creatures, free will causes them only pain sadly.” Death was not making a prophecy, simply stating A future she could see. But those timelines were constantly in flux, and little or large thing could over balance them, tipping Belle into yet another path, perhaps this time as a faited Hero, or Preistess.

but Death was not Fate was she?

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#5
Seth hadn’t had feelings like these about a mortal in so very long. It had been millenia upon millenia when his youngest children had been born, and they were already two thousand years old now. And yet this sweet mortal woman had earned herself his blessing with kindness. That being the case, Seth wasn’t about to let her just up and die, not when he hadn’t yet returned her kindness. “Why should only a few be bathed in the light of her goodness?” It was perhaps the least argumentative thing he could have said in the situation, where he and Death herself were seemingly at odds.

Kinder. Would it? Mortals spent so much of their time fearing their deaths, worrying about the afterlife… Was it really such a mercy to take someone so young and vibrant? Seth thought not. “Who are we to say she would be unhappy? She is good and kind. Why would we wish to take that from the world now, when we could allow her to shine her light on so many others with just a bit more time?”

He didn’t want to take her. He didn’t want one of his fellows to do so, either. Even speaking to Death, even considering her words, he kept Belle wrapped in his protective aura, keeping Death from her. “And yet, their free will is their own, as is ours. We have no true reason to suspect that she will move forward to be anything less than she has been thus far.” It came down to the simple fact that Seth had faith in Belle, that he believed that she was, at her core, good.

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#6
Death hummed a high to low note, shifting forwards and back on her cane, watching the ant like crawl of Castiel winging to the rescue. “And when she is no longer good and kind?” Death shook her head. “You never learn that lesson. I am not fickle, I do not take lightly.” Death raised her hand. “Enough, you exercise your will and right. I have warned. There are others that demand my attention.” Death while Infinitely more powerful than he was bound tighter to specific rules, she could have taken Belle, blown his shadow like fluff into the wind. But she respected free will.

Even when she saw a future of consequences for its use.


“The little angel will not beable to save her with out help.” Death warned turning to leave. “If you wish her alive, best to give her a touch of healing.”

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#7
Seth blinked at her words, frowning at them even as he considered what she was saying, and what she meant by the question and following statement. “She’s mortal. She will live, age, grow old and die.” He watched Belle more than he watched Death, concern and fondness in his gaze. He would never learn that lesson… Perhaps she was correct. He hadn’t learned the last time, it would seem, and yet… “If she were ever to turn into her antithesis to the point that she needs to be removed, then I will collect her myself.” There was a thread of strength in his tone, not just a promise to her, but to himself. “I might not believe that there is no purpose to taking her life right now, but I have learned something since the last time.”

He wasn’t certain he was making the right decision. But he knew that many would mourn her passing. That there were would be too many who would hurt perhaps too much if they collected her now.

Here in the veil, Seth did not appear human. His skin was obsidian, his face that of the Sha, complete with crimson eyes that nearly seemed to glow. The god bent over the mortal he had chosen to save today, reaching out toward her. None of the others, not the angel or his sweet daughter (he recognized her essence even now, his blessing still upon her as well), not the elf in the midst of using his magic from the love goddess would detect him as he healed her. Not too much, he was careful. Enough to let her miraculously live until they arrived. Enough to make it appear a close thing. Lucky, they would likely say…


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