It's a Graves thing (soundofwings) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-01-15 14:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | death |
Who: Death
What: Preparing - Tiny Narrative
Where: Gotham/DC Door
When: About now
Warnings/Rating: Talk of... D/death?
With the avoidance of the complications that seemed to forever pop up for Iris in Las Vegas, Death had been spending more time than not on her own side of the door. She had no qualms about taking the time, doing her job and making sure it was being done right. It was orderly and familiar, and she appreciated being herself, of knowing everything that twisted through people's lives. While her attention was world-wide, there was something that always drew her back to Gotham, the dark lives of the people there and the handful of now-familiar faces that had their own people on the other side of the door. The ones she had promised herself (and them) never to touch.
She knew the moment the contagion was released, Johnny Masterson having his nighttime adventure with a false Nightwing and then returning to his bed. She knew then, how it would start to spread, the fact that she would likely be back to take Johnny soon. Her awareness pushed outward, touching people and taking the path that the sickness would, and she could feel the number of people that would take her hand soon. Was it inevitable? She knew that depended on people's viewpoints, but that part of things was of no concern to her. She would take people as it was their time, just as she always did. It was not her place to stop it or to help those that were attempting to. She didn't interfere like that. There was no reason to linger over the thoughts of it; it would start soon enough.
And if there was a shiver at the back of her mind that something maybe didn't seem quite right, that something felt somehow off... Well, she was able to ignore that for now.