The next afterlife

[dead_serious]

[ In hindsight, it was obvious. Reapers worked tirelessly, for centuries, trying to reach that one final goal - to be forgiven. For most, the feat of learning the value of life was impossible. The depression that lingered with them after they took their own lives was only compounded by their roles as death gods. So many joyous lives cut short, the lucky mortal's record almost mocking the unfortunate reapers as they watched the panels flip past their eyes. Most would forget they even had a chance to be forgiven, drowning in the enteral job set before them.

But, on rare occurrences, a reaper would find themselves before a jury, summoned away from their desks overflowing with paperwork on scheduled deaths. That is where William stands now. And perhaps even more surprising, is the other who stands beside him - Grell Sutcliffe. William had hardly believed himself capable of forgiveness, but the redhead...she'd looked at the mortal realm and laughed, hardly caring (and often finding it amusing) if she was the listed cause of death for some of those unfortunate people. How she is here, as well, is beyond him.

The committee has decided the both of you have come to an understanding on how valuable life truly is.

The woman at the centre of the row of judges addresses them both. William's brow creases, but he refrains from asking the obvious question of why, lest he ruin their chances at eternal peace.

Now that that matter is dealt with, we will move on to assessing your sins as a mortal.

William's expression quickly shifts to honest surprise, his eyes widening and blinking in confusion. The term 'forgiven' had been a misnomer since the beginning. How had he been so naive to think all their wrong doings while they'd been alive would be waved off as if they'd meant nothing? Swallowing heavily, he gives a brief side glance to Grell. For the first time, in this afterlife, he is scared. ]

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[untodeath]

[ Grell's tale had begun in the back room of a brothel, born to Grace, a half-Scottish migrant from Yorkshire. Though Grace had many admirers, her most loyal was a handsome and very wealthy German businessman. As soon as it had become clear that she was with child, the young woman was certain that he was the father. Unfortunately, he did not receive the news as well as she had hoped for; as the face of a business, with a British-born fiance, a pregnant mistress was not in the cards for Nathanael. He denied fault and cut ties, which would lead to a long-standing fixation for the single mother.

As an infant, Grell would spend her beginning years on the topmost floors of the establishment, so as not to disturb visitors – and once she had become more aware and most curious, she would play about the back kitchen during days. It wasn't a very welcoming environment for a child, to say the least, but she was fed alongside the women, and had a bed to sleep in.

Even so, she was encouraged to stay quiet and out of sight; and so, as soon as she was able, she took to playing outside. Sometimes, she'd wander and attempt to find other children, but her unusual upbringing often left them at odds. Adults were scary and avoided at all costs, but they never seemed to make it easy. Many yelled at her for traveling without a guardian, and then, there were the shady characters that they warned her about. It was a dangerous district to travel alone in, and she quickly learned to distrust, dodge, and fight her way out of confrontations.

Sneaking into places that she wasn't supposed to be became her speciality. This especially worked in her favour when she discovered the theatre. The first performance she'd ever seen was, as one might guess, a Shakespearean tragedy. Hamlet. It seemed as though the world outside of the stage had disappeared; the characters radiated confidence and beauty, despite how alien it seemed for men to embody the roles of women.

Once the staff became wise to her frequent – but unpaid – presence at their shows, she found it increasingly impossible to sit in on performances. It led to her first petty theft; stealing a used copy of William Shakespeare's Greatest Works. It was after that she realised, in order to appreciate it, she would need to teach herself how to read, first. Her hoarding of dirty old newspaper caused her housemates some distress, but she was determined.

Over the years, her mother became more detached from reality, and her depression worsened; something Grell realised, once she was spending more time at home, and had developed enough emotional maturity to make sense of it. She attempted to care for her single parent, as the woman began to fail caring for herself; yet, she could only do so much. When her mother took ill, Grell begged the Madam of the house to let her take up work, cleaning and running errands, so that they could maintain their board. It was with some fortune that this allowed her to become closer with the other women in the establishment, as her mother wasn't meant for their world much longer, and it provided her some support when she'd need it the most.

Grell’s fifteenth birthday came only a month following the passing of her mother. Against the Lady of the house’s wishes, their two youngest working women took it upon themselves to see that the “young man” properly lost his virginity. They certainly managed, but the lack of engagement she had with their bodies clued them into her preferences. Weeks later, they would persuade her (with great effort) to accompany them into bed with one of their male clients. Not only were their suspicions confirmed, they gave Grell a cut of their shares. Unfortunately, they hadn’t expected their client to return with the very specific request to revisit all parties that were involved, cluing the Madam into what had transpired.

They were all scolded severely, not only for operating behind her back, but for putting their establishment at risk for law enforcement intervention. The woman went so far as to claim that she would’ve kicked Grell to the curb, if she hadn’t lived there all her life. She was used to keeping her head down and minding her business, but she felt as though she was walking on eggshells, after that. Months later, she only managed to get back in the Madam’s good graces when she fought off a man mistreating one of their workers. Really, she was a nervous wreck swinging a broom, but she proved herself useful, nonetheless.

It was thought that keeping a ‘male presence’ around proved to deter some of the most unsavoury clientele, and her ability to read helped them conduct business more smoothly, at times. She was subpar at cleaning, but efficient at the more menial tasks; however, she wasn’t allowed to take part in meal prep, under any circumstances.

The women had their fun poking at her, and during quiet hours, they would dress her up and paint her face. One day, a customer came across the sight - and rather than express distaste, took a shining to what he saw. He took Grell by the hand, and exclaimed that she was fit to be a star - that he should know, after all, because he was a traveling actor. Over the following few days, he would woo her, and sneak into her bed before the week’s end.

After all their interactions - of him retelling stories of his travels, and exclaiming that she must accompany him on the stage - she finally had the courage to ask if she could meet his actor companions and see them perform. Unfortunately, he said, they were merely taking a couple weeks to rest while passing through. That his mates had agreed on previous obligations of varying sorts, but to give him a day, while she packed up her things and left her hesitation behind.

Secretly as she could, she gathered her valuables, which only amounted to some clothing, her mother’s old coin purse, and her own books. By the following evening, he sneaked her away, to avoid question. When they traversed into questionable territory, she merely thought that it was the ignorance of a non-local; however, when they met his 'friends' in an alley, they were too eager to see her. It was too late – despite her fight, they crowded and subdued her. Beat her, violated her, and took what little she had with them when they abandoned her on the street.

Noise complaints were made, but given the area, the authorities took their time to respond. With grievance, they scraped her from the cobblestone and dropped her in the hospital's hands. By some miracle, her assailants had missed her mother's coin purse, tucked into her waistcoat, and the little money she had went toward her medical care. Perhaps, she thought, it was her mother looking out for her, beyond the grave.

With so little left, and her will amounting to even less, she finally mustered the bravery to look through her late mother's personal effects, hidden way in that purse. There wasn't much; an old drawing of the fair woman in her youth, a snippet of hair from Grell's very first cut, and a folded snippet from the newspaper. It was a headline, detailing the then-newly established business of a German man, gaining success with its expansion. The article made little sense to her, until she saw the man's name-- Nathanael Lambourne. Her mother had spoken of him often.

It would be a couple weeks, until Grell was deemed fit enough to be discharged, with nothing more than the clothes on her back, broken spectacles, a set of fitted wooden teeth, and that old coin purse. No one had come looking for her during those past weeks, so she wouldn't be going back to that wretched whore-house. Rather, her father's name had been on her mind, and after making some simple inquiries about his business, she easily found his home.

Of course, once she was standing before it, she didn't know what to do. It was a beautiful home, speaking of substantial wealth, and there were children playing in the garden. With their plump, rosy little smiles, they didn't have a care in the world. A large part of her didn't wish to stir trouble within their view, but then, she also felt jealousy – hatred! - for her well-off half-siblings.

While this inward battle took place, one of the maids took notice, and pointedly tread over to greet Grell. Interviews for any servants' positions were to be addressed in the back, she'd said, and to quickly go before the master's wife spotted them. Despite how baffled she was, Grell did as she was urged to, and by some strange twist of fate, she found herself being trained for household work by sundown.

At first, she had no direct interaction with her father and his family, merely catching glimpses of them from other rooms. One evening, however, she was tasked with keeping the master's bath water warm. While he bathed in a basin set in the kitchen, behind a privacy screen, she would heat water in a large vat on the stove and periodically add it to his bath. It was crucial that she give him his space, and he loathed small talk, she was told; thus, she found herself resigned to watching water boil.

Absent in her thoughts of hatred for the man, she realised then, that she neglected to remove the pot from its heat, and that it was nearly bubbling over! Thankfully no one noticed—for, truly, no one else was around. What if she were to add it to his bath, like this? Make him feel just a fraction of the agony that he'd caused his mother. Caused her. Sadly, it would end all too quickly, by just submerging himself in his bath... however, if she added the sugar, kept out for tea, it would turn into a boiling paste, that would stick to the skin...

Ah, she barely realised that her body was responding to these foreign and fleeting thoughts – not until the man was howling in pain while watching his skin turn scarlet and welt. It was by some miracle that she had the sense to drop the pot and run. She simply kept going, and didn't stop until she had left the city, where she had the fortune to stash herself away, unnoticed, in a travelling cart.

It was a lengthy trip, allowing the imagery from the night to play in her head over, and over again. She knew, she should feel terrible for what she managed to do to him, not to mention his wife and children. And yet, it was the fact that she didn't, which haunted her. After a life of being told that she was different, and less than the rest, hated even by God... she told herself that, perhaps, it was true.

Grell nearly made it to the south-most coast of England, before she was discovered, with a good smack and a great deal of cursing. Left in the town of Eastbourne, she was starving and freezing, but she cared little about it. She was tortured by her own mind. By her thinking, it couldn't have been a mistake for her to find herself so close to Beachy Head. This world wasn't made for her, and she wasn't fit to live on it. She travelled the rest of the way on foot, despite it nearly killing her – and with the last of her energy, she would jump off of its mighty cliffs. ]