My natural state is to be a verbose, rambly, crazy man. And, well, Acrimony’s hard not to be rambly with at the best of times. Let alone when I’m tired from picking kitchen colours. I was going to say something here, but I forgot what it was. Oh, right. I remember. I’ll say after you’ve read today’s piece.
Be warned that today’s piece is about three times longer than usual. It’s more RPG-introduction style discussion from Acrimony and it follows more-or-less from day 16.
Ah excellent, another drink.
I don’t know how many reapers there are on the planet. Several hundred, maybe a couple of thousand tops. We tend to work in broods of six to ten. Each brood is led by a grim. They’re reapers who’ve been around long enough to forget most of what it was like to be human. Or they’re really good at what passes for dead politics. All the grims together form the conclave. Which is about as effective as every other committee humanity has ever tried to use. Lots of arguing, not a lot of doing. To hear the grims tell it, the conclave makes the decisions as to what we all need to be focusing on. Realistically, either the conclave argues and individual broods keep doing whatever it is that they do, or a grim reaper shows up and tells the conclave to go do something. You don’t see them around too often. Most reapers have never seen one, let alone talked to them. I have, but I’m a special nutjob. Grim reapers are scary as fuck. I’m pretty sure they never were human. All bone and, to be honest, I don’t remember specifics. My brain didn’t let me.
The universe is tricksy like that. It has its set of rules and it gets cranky when people disobey them. Things like gravity and the conservation of energy and the speed of light. That shit’s not allowed to be mucked about with. But, the universe isn’t the big boss it’d like to be and sometimes other universes muscle their way in and let their rules control things. In response to this, the universe does two things. Firstly, it tries to ensure nothing notices the oddity. So people forget or rationalise or drink a lot. Not everyone. Some people learn anyway. ‘Cos the universe isn’t all powerful. Ha! Take that universe! You’re not all powerful! Though I will concede that you are powerful enough to squash me whenever you feel like it. But phooey, I’ve got booze and I’m not afraid to use it.
Secondly, it made us. Of all the unnatural beings out in this weird and wonderful world of ours, reapers are the only ones that belong here. We’re the universe’s immune system. Its anti-bodies. If you’re not from around here and you’re making trouble, we will fuck… you… up. I’m told in the olden days we used to fuck outsiders up even if they weren’t causing trouble, but we’re a tad more civilised than that nowadays. Also, too busy. There are a lot of oddities to put down and not a lot of reapers to do it.
Oh, and we also help ensure that no souls get stolen. The universe gets pretty cranky when it lends a soul to someone and doesn’t get it back when they die. So we get sent to collect. We make sure you find your way to the afterlife. Assuming there is one. Personally, I think souls are simply what the universe eats and we’re all just cattle in its farm.
Before you ask. No, I don’t know if whatever deity you believe in exists or not. I doubt it. I’ve met reapers from every faith and no faith. I’ve met reapers who were saints when mortal and I’ve met reapers who reaped souls for a thousand years and still hadn’t ferried as many as they’d killed in their mortal days. We get no more information than you do about the higher powers of the universe. I’m just a little reaper mushroom, kept in the dark and fed a steady diet of bullshit.
Now, I think it’s about time we quit with the beer and started with the vodka. The good stuff, I’m too old for that cheap shit.
So, kitchen colours. I’ve had to pick a bunch this week and lets just say it’s not a task I particularly enjoy. A friend very kindly helped me with it tonight by throwing together a pinterest board about it. Which was more than awesome of her and did indeed help me make my decision.
Pinterest, on the other hand, is irritating. To look at the pins on her board, I had to sign up. Which required that I make half a dozen decisions, click twenty buttons, and wade through about 5 screens. After which it didn’t even take me to the pin I’d been trying to look at, but to my supposed home page. Fuck pinterest.
I’m hoping to write some more Chelsea tomorrow night. She was a bit of an accidental character, but her story has spun itself in my head and I’m afraid that if I don’t get it out soon it may well start clawing its way out. And I don’t need another headache…
I will now get off the internet and go to bed, ‘cos I’m clearly somewhat cranky 😀