[Brook lifts his head slightly, giving Onni a long, dubious look.]
...No, I think that's pretty different.
[Guiding someone already dead to where they're supposed to be sounds like kindness and selflessness. Brook's work is with the living. He's not a psychopomp; he's a murderer. And nobody has to do it. If a bad enough sinner dies by any cause, natural or unnatural, their soul will end up in hell one way or another. They don't need Reapers to direct them. The only ones who benefit from what Brook does are Brook himself, Satan (if only for entertainment), and--
--As a rule, he doesn't call to mind the third soul who benefits. The less he thinks about her, the better.
He could say all of this to Onni, really make him understand the difference. But he's exhausted, his head aches dully, and, selfishly, he doesn't want Onni to stop being nice to him. He doesn't want this terse, sheltering presence to abandon him. To be a Reaper is to be selfishness incarnate.
So he lets Onni tell himself the story that makes sense to him without elaborating on the differences between them. He just chews his bread, swallows, and goes on.]
Satan--that's my boss--would probably do this stuff himself if he could. But he can't leave hell. So he makes Reapers by putting a dead human's soul in a human-like body, and gives them powers by stuffing a demon inside with them.
[Shrug.]
That's what I am. That's why I haven't had to eat or sleep in forever. I died more than a hundred years ago, why would I need to?
no subject
...No, I think that's pretty different.
[Guiding someone already dead to where they're supposed to be sounds like kindness and selflessness. Brook's work is with the living. He's not a psychopomp; he's a murderer. And nobody has to do it. If a bad enough sinner dies by any cause, natural or unnatural, their soul will end up in hell one way or another. They don't need Reapers to direct them. The only ones who benefit from what Brook does are Brook himself, Satan (if only for entertainment), and--
--As a rule, he doesn't call to mind the third soul who benefits. The less he thinks about her, the better.
He could say all of this to Onni, really make him understand the difference. But he's exhausted, his head aches dully, and, selfishly, he doesn't want Onni to stop being nice to him. He doesn't want this terse, sheltering presence to abandon him. To be a Reaper is to be selfishness incarnate.
So he lets Onni tell himself the story that makes sense to him without elaborating on the differences between them. He just chews his bread, swallows, and goes on.]
Satan--that's my boss--would probably do this stuff himself if he could. But he can't leave hell. So he makes Reapers by putting a dead human's soul in a human-like body, and gives them powers by stuffing a demon inside with them.
[Shrug.]
That's what I am. That's why I haven't had to eat or sleep in forever. I died more than a hundred years ago, why would I need to?