Flint is a tall, skinny half-elf with deathly pallid skin and lank, jaw-length blond hair. His clothes are ragged and filthy, and there is a rat perched on his shoulder.
The Grim Sweeper is sitting at a table. He has set out an array of hourglasses before him and his broom is leaning against his chair.
"who- are- you. " she studies you from a distance and looks at your broom
The Grim Sweeper is a towering skeletal figure enshrouded in a cloak woven from shadow. His face is a grinning skull, and his eyes are bottomless pits. A cloud of dust hangs around him. The broom leaning against him is his tool. It is what he uses to sweep away the souls of the dead. He speaks in a booming voice that seems to skip the process of going through air to get in your ear. Instead it just echoes like a tolling bell in your mind. I AM THE GRIM SWEEPER. ALSO KNOWN AS DEATH, THE DARK ONE, THE ASSASSIN AGAINST HIM NO MAN CAN STAND, THE FINAL FINALE, MR. MUERTE, THE DOOD DUDE, AMONG OTHERS. MY JOB IS TO SWEEP AWAY THE SOULS OF THE DEAD.
'Good, I guess. Not ready for that big final meeting with ya just yet.'
Death pulls out an hourglass from the depths of his robe. He holds it up to the light to see how much sand is in it. The light reflects off the glass in such a way that you cannot tell how much sand is in it. OH DON'T WORRY. YOUR TIME HAS NOT YET COME. THOUGH IF YOU WISH, I SUPPOSE I COULD HASTEN THE PROCESS FOR YOU IF YOU WOULD LIKE?
*I don't know, I do not speak Dutch. My username is a reference to the fact that half past ten is called half elf in Dutch. Other than that and some basic vocab, I do not know Dutch.*
'No, certainly not. I like my life here and in the sewers too much. The longer the life, the better'
Death shrugs, HAVE IT YOUR WAY. THAT IS WHAT MOST PEOPLE PREFER. He tucks the hourglass back into his robe. He then looks over the hourglasses he has set on the table thoughtfully.
'Hey, haven't seen ya round here before?'
Flint is a tall, skinny half-elf with deathly pallid skin and lank, jaw-length blond hair. His clothes are ragged and filthy, and there is a rat perched on his shoulder.
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'Ya new around here?'
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*Is anyone still on?*
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*Hello*
*Hello, wanna rp?*
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*Okay*
The Grim Sweeper is sitting at a table. He has set out an array of hourglasses before him and his broom is leaning against his chair.
'Oh, hey Grim Sweeper, how're ya doing? Wait, are you here for me?'
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"hey yeah! just scoping the people out... and looking around." I glance at your pocket so what yah do for a living round here
*oh and Fyrienne is a half elf shes short and her hair is braided and is a light brown and has light brown skin aswell*
jAH<33
imma nerdy biotch😎
im a minor btw loLZ
GREETINGS FLINT, he responds in his leaden tone, I AM NOT HERE FOR ANYONE AT THE MOMENT. I AM TAKING A LITTLE WHILE OFF. I AM DOING FINE, THANK YOU.
"who- are- you. " she studies you from a distance and looks at your broom
jAH<33
imma nerdy biotch😎
im a minor btw loLZ
'What do I do for a living? I'm a sewer scavenger. And no, I don't mind. I kinda like it. What're you doing round here?'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
'Good, I guess. Not ready for that big final meeting with ya just yet.'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
The Grim Sweeper is a towering skeletal figure enshrouded in a cloak woven from shadow. His face is a grinning skull, and his eyes are bottomless pits. A cloud of dust hangs around him. The broom leaning against him is his tool. It is what he uses to sweep away the souls of the dead. He speaks in a booming voice that seems to skip the process of going through air to get in your ear. Instead it just echoes like a tolling bell in your mind. I AM THE GRIM SWEEPER. ALSO KNOWN AS DEATH, THE DARK ONE, THE ASSASSIN AGAINST HIM NO MAN CAN STAND, THE FINAL FINALE, MR. MUERTE, THE DOOD DUDE, AMONG OTHERS. MY JOB IS TO SWEEP AWAY THE SOULS OF THE DEAD.
'Yep, that's him. Do they really call you the Final Finale? Mr Muerte? Or the Dood Dude?'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
Death pulls out an hourglass from the depths of his robe. He holds it up to the light to see how much sand is in it. The light reflects off the glass in such a way that you cannot tell how much sand is in it. OH DON'T WORRY. YOUR TIME HAS NOT YET COME. THOUGH IF YOU WISH, I SUPPOSE I COULD HASTEN THE PROCESS FOR YOU IF YOU WOULD LIKE?
'No, certainly not. I like my life here and in the sewers too much. The longer the life, the better'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
SOME DO, Death grins, NOT MANY, BUT A FEW.
*Correct me if I am wrong Dutch. But dood is dutch for death I think.*
*I don't know, I do not speak Dutch. My username is a reference to the fact that half past ten is called half elf in Dutch. Other than that and some basic vocab, I do not know Dutch.*
'All very good names for ya!'
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*Google translate says it is*
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
Death shrugs, HAVE IT YOUR WAY. THAT IS WHAT MOST PEOPLE PREFER. He tucks the hourglass back into his robe. He then looks over the hourglasses he has set on the table thoughtfully.