Greeve
Rising Soul
PL: 46,034
Haunting (x12)
Zeni: 500
Tag: @greeve
OOC Name: Lafitte
Posts: 108
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Post by Greeve on Nov 15, 2016 18:23:35 GMT
So, this is what death was like. Despite being born from the countless deaths of innocents, and being a bringer of death himself, Greeve really had no idea what death actually had in store for him. He honestly didn't expect for him to be standing in a line, approaching a massive red demon at a desk. Greeve wasn't sure if he should be disappointed or not.
He remained silent as he slowly approached the front of the line, and even when he had reached the front, standing before the demon, nothing seemed to happen. Greeve just stood there in complete silence, waiting for something to happen. Apparently the big demon hadn't even noticed his presence yet. Guess he was more used to louder recipients.
After a moment of silence, Greeve cleared his throat. "Erm, excuse me?"
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Post by King Yemma on Nov 17, 2016 4:39:03 GMT
The great high-backed chair of King Yemma was turned away from the line, and the legendary ogre was curled back in its plush confines, rubbing his hands together conspiratorially with the big blue phone receiver tucked between jacketed shoulder and bearded chin. "Hmm. I see," He said softly into the phone. "Yes, I'd like that, a lot. Oh oh, would I!" He gave a breathy laugh. "Yes. Yessss. Tell me more about your big package." He leaned over, rocking back and forth in his chair in trembling excitement.
When the little puffball that was now Greeve spoke, Yemma gave such a jolt that the phone sprung from his hands and clattered to the ground, shaking the hardwood floor. "EAGGG WHAT THE!?" He blurted, peering about wild-eyed, face flushed.
A tremendous magazine, also sprung from his clutches, sailed through the office air and flapped to the ground like a glossy kaolin bird near Greeve's spirit. Its cover showed scantily clad humans playing on a beautiful tropical beach, and when it finally flopped across the polished bamboo flooring a long centerfold unfurled. Relaxing Resorts Proudly Presents Our Most-Extensive Luxury Vacation Package Yet! Below this bold claim was a bevy of pricing and excursion dates, where the magazine's owner had circled several options and drawn ogre smiley faces next to them.
The much-more-miniature ogre attendees flanking King Yemma's desk gasped at seeing the centerfold. "You're going on vacation, boss?" A small teal ogre with horns that eerily matched his horn-rimmed glasses asked. The tone of the question was wounded, and the assistant had put the same dread emphasis on vacation as a human might put on tax audit.
King Yemma shrank back as if scalded, but after a moment of wavering doubt beneath the awestruck gazes of his attendants, the King reared up defiantly. "Yeah! So what if I do? I haven't been on vacation since CARS WERE INVENTED!!!" The last words shook the entire building, bringing dust down from the rafters.
Brushing off his jacket, King Yemma finally glared down at Greeve. "It's people like you why I don't get a vacation!" He snarled, murder in his huge dark eyes. "PEOPLE LIKE YOU!!! You go around blowing everybody up left and right nonstop thinking it's sooooo funny. You don't stop to think, gee, maybe I'm really ruining someone's day, someone who will never get to drink mohitos on Tafi Tafi Island because of my selfish actions, like poor King Yemma. Why don't you get a life, loser?!" He rose up, bringing his Giant Gavel up as if to slam it down on the little puff ball.
The teal ogre ahemed. King Yemma glanced at his attendant, and his hulking arm wavered, lowering back to the desk. His dark eyes bore into Greeve, and he tapped his gavel lightly against the desk. "People. Like. You." The hammer clicked softly with each word.
The trap door opened up below Greeve with a swoosh, sucking him down into the abyssal shadow of Hell.
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