{A Death Note Roleplay} - The Boredom of A Shinigami

[Chi-Chan]

The Boredom Of A Shinigami
A Death Note Roleplay
Roleplay Made By Chi-Chan

The Plot
What if the Death Note had not been given to Light? What if there had been more than two? There are many things that could of happened, but was it fate that placed the Death Note in the hands of Light Yagami? Was it fate that the shinigami had been none other then Ryuk? Or was it juts boredom? Boredem can be the crime of many things. Because of boredom, the human race believe they must find a cure, a past time. These past times can be harmless...or they can hurt people deeply but nobody ever thought that boredem could ever come to this...that lives would be taken away from a very person's hands because of a young man and a shinigami who were totally and utterly bored.

But time can always change...if someone had done one other thing different. Things would of changed. And someone had done something different. Actually, something had done something different. There was not just two Death Notes but four...placed in all different area's of the towns of Tokyo. Some use it more than others, some of that unknown four seem to be slowly driven mad by sanity. Ethier way, the crime is there and people have noticed. The top detectives have come from all over the world, six head detectives all working on the same case together...and five shinigami all witnessing, being somewhat 'friends' and enjoying together the pain cause within the human world. Now...their fates have become entwined, what shall happen?

Because the truth of the life and death is that if one thing had changed in a persons life...if one person had screamed, lived, dreamed at a different pace, a different time...then that one person's life would had changed. This isn't just about a young man named Light Yagami, a young woman named Mika and a head detective named the mysterious L. No...this is far worse...because this time, time did change...but for the worse it would seem...

The Characters Of Our Game

The Death Note Users
1. Reserved - Frozy
2. Damien Cordelle (Kor-dell) - ∞
3. Gin Sayuri - Ricochet!
4. Hishin Kagemaru - Lifeline

The Dectectives
1. Áine {Ie-na} Cesair - Chi-Chan
2. Spencer Westfall - Zexilicious
3. Gendou Kuromiya - OmniChaos
4. Open
5. Open
6. Open

The Shinigami
1. Koki Kariya (Coke-ee Car-eye-ah) - ∞
2. Nephothos - Ashes Remnant
3. Open
4. Open
5. Open

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A young woman sat upon a desk in the city of Tokyo. The city of technology, the new world one might say... The new generation. A city of Revolution for the world. Tokyo had always been known to have the best facilities in the technology, overall fashion and animation world and yet, the woman sat. Not walking along the streets enjoying the magnicifient sites of traditional and the future japan, nor going out and doing the cultures past times like other women her age had come to do. No, instead she just merely sat upon her desk and stared at the man of which they called her boss. The head detective of Japan. Merely half listening to the man's speech. Perhaps she really should of been paying attention but she suffered or was gifted with such a thing of Photographic memory. Words did not help her in anyway and so she seemed to be, to her other workers, to be staring off into the distant. In truth, she heard their whispers. These men where all quite old. The head detectives of Japan. Many would say middle-aged but some where much older then that...while these new peers, the workers they would be working under now, where much younger then them. She suspected the youngest to be eighteen at the minium and the oldest to be around their age perhaps...but overall, in the adverage, these 'kids' were younger then they were and in their eyes, much, much less experienced. The very thought made her smug smile return. A soft laugh escaping her lips...no one seemed to notice or at least, seemed to want to interrupt the head cheif. Perhaps they thought the woman had lost her mind. Perhaps it was true.

Turning to finally stare upon the head cheif, the red-head, Áine Cesair, realised that none of her new 'work mates' had arrived yet. It seemed she had been the first to be flown in. The emerald eyes of the Woman, Aine, searched. No one had arrived but many had probably dismissed it, only one death and she had been told to come to Japan immediatly. Perhaps this case would not be as big as it was said, she had heard the Asains were incredibly suspicious but even so, Any case was A case. That at least brought money to the table...Her eyes once again now focused upon the scenery outside, listening once again only slightly to her new boss. Waiting to inspect her other workers...to see at least one. After all, they would all have to work together. That alone gave her a reason to pry.

{{ITS OPEN! XD}}

[∞]

((How awesome is that? I got in within two minutes of it starting. C'mon, I deserve something or that...))

Damien Cordelle sat leisurely in his seat, thankfully relatively alone at the back of the plane, an Airbus A380, one of the largest plans in the world. Currently, Damien was playing on his iPhone, the newest model, and one he had tweaked into superiority himself, particularly entranced by a game App he had recently purchased. He was on the last level, and the seventeen year old, quite tall for his age at 6' 5", and was relishing the experience when at last the game came to a conclusion, and he put the slim and slick device away into his jeans pocket.

He then brushed a hand through his hair, very short and brown, with the tiniest fringe and almost somewhat grey in colour, before he ducked his hands into the pockets of his grey knitwear jacket, a particular favourite of his wardrobe. For a few more minutes he sat there and thought to himself, unmoving and uncaring of the world around him, or rather what it was seventy thousand feet above the ground, and was oblivious to the man sitting on the opposite side of the plane, who was eyeing Damien intently. He had on a pair of orange-tinted glasses that matched his orange hair that flared behind his head. He wore a sleeveless black jacket with a skeletal ribcage pattern on the front. He wore pale purplish pants and plain white sneakers.

Damien grew bored of his thoughts, as exciting and grand as they may have been for other people his age and even much older, and fished into the seat pocket in front of him and pulled out an in-flight magazine. A browse through the contents page told him of an article of a recent discovery that would revolutionise the world, and was the very reason that Damien was currently on the plane to Tokyo. The world's first fusion reactor for industrial use, using the same nuclear principle as the sun and with zero radioactive waste, would be revealed at a science convention in Tokyo later that week. Damien was on a list of exceedingly capable, intelligent, and physics-based students who had been invited to come to the event.

Reading the article more for any possible errors it might contain rather than what it was talking about, Damien revelled in that kind of stuff. He was glad to know that even professionals could get things wrong, and that even he could point out the correct answer or term. In this particular article, he found five errors. Two in names, the other three inaccurate explanations of the technologies and techniques used. Damien was a devourer of knowledge. Mathematical and scientific concepts were ridiculously easy for him to pick up and apply, even if they were rather abstract, such as cosmology and quantum physics. On Wikipedia, the world's largest online encyclopedia of free information, he would regularly just browse pages of astronomical, cosmological and space-related pages, however fictional or truthful, just for the sake of knowledge and the interest they provided him.

Damien's eyes stopped at the end of the article, and looked up to see a car coming down the aisle, in which to place rubbish. Damien gathered his things an and dropped them into the chute in the side of the metal box on wheels, then turned back to his magazine. Except, something had changed. Dramatically.

On the magazine there was now a small black book, of notebook variety, resting on the right-hand page of the magazine. On it's cover, in white and rough writing, the words 'Death Note'. Damien lifted up the object with a vague interest, thinking it was, with a name like Death Note, the kind of thing someone might write their suicide letter in, but inside was empty, the only writing on the very front cover. Then, something even more bizarre, a voice popped into Damien's mind, of indeterminate gender, age and race. He just knew that it was talking in English. It was giving instructions, and speaking in a monotone voice:

"The book you hold in your hands now is called, in the English language, a Death Note. It is an instrument used by a group of beings to cut short the lives of individuals we deem as fitting to die, for whatever reason we so desire. We are not human, we are above that. This is but a recording of sorts, 'programmed' into the Death Note, as it were, and will only relay the answers to questions that have already been programmed into it."

Damien was panting now. The appearance of the book, with no person nearby to drop it on him, was strange enough. Damien padded down his body, making sure there were no kinds of devices on him, and then looked up for anyone that might be looking at him or talking discretely for only him to here. Such was not the case. It seemed the voice genuinely spoke in Damien's mind. The teenager then spoke, "Why... Why do I have such a thing? No... Wait..." He then cut himself off, and, grabbing the magazine, pretending to be reading a particularly interesting article that could not be stopped, quickly moved for the toilets, the Death Not hidden inside.

All the while, the orange-haired man watched him intently.

[Ashes Remnant]

Was this beautiful? The lights of a human city at night danced before the Shinigami's eyes. Nephotos watched from the Shinigami realm. He was hunched over, wondering how so many of his brethren did this for hours upon hours. What was there to look at? He twisted his head to the side, the sound of his bones cracking not registering in his mind. It looked so boring and peaceful down there.

He stood from his place, and walked away slowly, his skin dangling in the slight breeze as he walked. Maybe I should just write some names down. Nothing better to do. The one thing he did enjoy was the deaths of others. Watching their last moments, and the ensuing chaos. Oh how wonderful it was. Especially to make the deaths different. Like being impaled on a cross, or hit by an ambulance. He smiled, at least as much as possible for him.

He slowly made his way back over to watch the world. He looked to the city streets, and saw a person. The name was Peter Fitzgerald. Weird name. He had a child with him as well. This gave him an idea. Nonetheless, Nephotos reached into his own ribcage. There, lodged where a human's heart would be, rested a white notebook. He flipped it open, and pulled a knife from the other row of his ribs. He put the knife to paper, and blood spelled out the man's name, and then details of his death.

He hunched back over to witness the death. The boy Peter had with him began jumping around excitedly. The man just covered his face in embarrassment. The kid then backed up, and ran into his father. The man was not expecting it, and stumbled forward into the busy road. He turned to look into the eyes of his son before his skull was crushed inwards by the force of a speeding taxi. The boy started screaming out his father's name.

Nephotos began laughing. He stood up, still chuckling. A fellow Shinigami looked up from a pile of dust he was drawing in to watch him. After Nephotos regained his composure, the Shinigami began speaking. "Nephotos, you truly are ruthless.. I'm surprised you didn't follow the other's example."

Nephotos cocked his head in the Shinigami's direction. A dark, growling voice that sounded like something out of a horror movie came from the unmoving mouth. "What do you mean?"

"Some of the others dropped notebooks. On purpose, to see what'd happen."

Nephotos turned away for a moment. That surely would allow him to see lots of deaths. Two wings shot from his back. "See you later." He took off for the human world.

He soared over Japan, trying to find a suitable location to drop his notebook. He decided that in front of an apartment complex was as good as any place. He carefully lowered his precious, blank, no rule notebook down. He then stepped back to watch the events unfold.

[∞]

Koki Kariya watched the genius seventeen-year-old as he went about his business on the plane, but always being careful not to be noticed. He absent-mindedly he flicked about the lollipop he had in his hands, returning it to his mouth for a lick and a suck every now and then. In such casual attire and with such an easy presence, one might not imagine Kariya as the CEO of any kind of business, especially one as large as his own. Kariya loved entertainment, but for the most part, there was very little to truly be had with the real world. There were so many limitations and the human race was so simplistic in all its instruments. Movies and video games and TV shows were much better for entertaining, escapism impossible to attain in the real world. Would sky-scraper tall robots fight off demons from space in the real world? No. Was it possible for men in the real world to fight at speeds faster than sound whithout some kind of assistance? No.

Such an excellent tool for entertainment, that Kariya had worked his way into and up an anime and manga company to become its CEO. He was also, at times, one of its main concept developers. He thought Damien Cordelle, in fact, knew, he would be interested in visiting his business, maybe even having some of his own ideas produced. Some of the stuff Kariya had wtinessed coming out of Damien's mind was phenomenal, and bound to make great shows. But now, he was keeping an eye on him for an entirely different reason. Now, his capacity was as a Shinigami, a race of beings higher than humans, whose prime purpose was to police the human race and dish out executions through the use of Death Notes.

One of these mystical books had, unknown and unpredicted by Kariya, fallen right into the palm of Damien's hands. If it had been dropped at random, it could have ended up anywhere at all in the world, so long as it was near to a solid surface. The coincidence of Damien aquiring a Death Note seventy thousand feet above sea level was too small. Another Shinigami must have been following Damien and known him to be of some use. Or entertainment. It had not been uncommon recently for Shinigamis to drop their Death Notes into the human world and watch the ensuing chaos. It was a lot more fun than sitting around in the Shinigami's World all day, that was for certain.

After a while in the toilet, Damien stepped out of it, Death Note hidden in the pages of the magazine, Kariya could tell. Once the teen seemed to settle down, Kariya stepped up and walked over to him. "Hello," He said, in a calm and light voice, "My name's Koki Kariya." The Shinigami, currently in human form, a special ability of is, extended his arm for a handshake, which Damien returned. He then continued, "Are you, by chance, Damien Cordelle? Member of the RolePlayGateway.com forums, username: the infinity symbol?"

Damien looked shocked. A Death Note had just dropped into his lap, and now here was someone he had never met before demonstrating an unusual knowledge of him. The teenger immediately made the connection between Kariya and the Death Note, but tried to remain calm. "Yes, that's me. Why do you ask?"

Kariya then motioned to speak, but first asked if he could sit down next to Damien. Damien didn't stop him. "My name is Koki Kariya and I am the CEO of a particularly large anime and manga firm in Shibuya, Japan. I've been looking around for new concept developers and writers for my serieses, and I strolled upon your stuff, both your solo and collaborative fiction ideas, as well as your officially published works. And I must say, for a seventeen year-old, you are very, very, good." Damien smiled lightly, liking the sound of where this was going, "Thank you," he said. Kariya continued: "I would be interested in giving you a tour of my workplace and talks with some of the staff, and consider if you'd like to be a full- or part-time writer for us. I was wondering if you'd be interested to?"

Damien nodded again, "That I would be." And the two immersed themselves in conversations relating to their own stories, Kariya all the while trying to get an idea of the boy and what kind of Shinigami might relate to him enough to give him his own Death Note.

[Szayel Aporro]

"Hey, Gin, wanna hang out today?"
"Nope. Can't. Sorry."
That was the response to every offer that Gin had gotten that day. She didn't exactly understand why, but she wasn't looking to hang out with any of her friends, in which she had many. The silver eyed girl kept her gaze towards the floor. She was a college student now, and as much as she wanted to keep her friends close, but her grades to an extent where she could get a reliable job.
She made her way towards her apartment, supported by her grandparents. It was a nice complex for her. Very relaxing and filled with kind neighbors that she could always rely on for help. She wasn't acknowledging any of the beings that passed her. Today seemed like a different day, she didn't have a good reason for it.
Gin got closer to her door, almost there. A couple of feet away so she could enjoy her own silence. For some reason, she felt as if she were being pressured. Forced closer to her home.
She reached in her pocket for her keys.
"...Crap... " Of course she had forgotten them, however she kept a spare underneath the mat that she would leave her shoes on, for she believed in the strong Japanese tradition that bringing ones shoes into their home brought bad souls into the house.
She leaned down to lift the mat up, revealing the key underneath. However, when the mat was placed back down a notebook was there.
"There's no way someone could've just dropped this right here..." She thought, picking it up. She stared at it for a couple of seconds, minutes maybe. She examined it carefully, it was a plain black notebook, it seemed, with the words "Death Note" written on the front, with the Japanese text of the same name under it. "What... is...?"
She stuck her key into the doorknob, opening it carefully, throwing her belongings onto the floor. She walked directly over to her desk, placing it down carefully, and taking a seat on her stool.
"...What is this? Death Note? I've..."
Gin Sayuri didn't know how much this would affect her life.

[Ashes Remnant]

Nephothos waited. And waited. And waited. Damned humans. Hours passed. No one stopped at the building. He began to think it was abandoned when finally, a young girl made her way down the sidewalk. He moved from out of the shadows, and stood a small distance away from the building to watch.

She picked the notebook up, noting the name he'd written on the front. For the second time in one day, Nephothos smiled. She stepped into the house, and thusly out of his line of sight. He was still smiling. A feeling was building up inside him. He was excited. One out of two things would happen. Either she'd use it and create chaos, or freak out and cause boringness. Either way, this'd be fun.

His wings outstreatched from his body, and he glided slowly toward the being. Gladly, a Shinigami was a completely noncorporeal being. He passed through the door, careful to stay hidden. For once, a human could see him. If she would only look. He looked down at the scattered items she owned on the floor. She was either in a hurry, or rather messy. Nonetheless, it didn't matter. She was sitting at her desk, staring at the notebook as if it would tell her all it's secrets. This. Will be fun.

"...What is this? Death Note? I've..."

And so, the Shinigami reached his hand around, and placed it tightly over her mouth. His hand happened to be the one made of bone with small strips of flesh hanging off it. The bone would feel as cold as ice to her soft skin. He leaned down and began to whisper in her ear with his voice that sounded like Lucifer himself. "That is MY notebook. I'm a Shinigami. There's no point in screaming, only you can see me."

With that, he gripped her chair, and spun her around to face him. He was mere inches from her face. The half of his face that actually had skin was smiling wildly, the other rotten skeleton half holding the same look as always. "Boo."

[Watson]

Light, Darkness, what is truly correct in the world? Why do either exist? And which side is humanity on? Do light and darkness exist, does anything exist? Perhaps this is all a dream, concocted by some being with an intricate enough mind to think of all that we percieve, and perhaps not even that being truly exists, and is but a concoction of some higher being. And then again, maybe the only thing nonexistant is human intelligence. No... being such as myself exist, so it is not nonexistant. Simply hard to find perhaps? Yes... that is it... that is it by all means. If we exist, if I exist, then all else must exist. And do I exist? No being can possibly dream all the thoughts that go through the heads of all the beings in this universe, so if I think........ As was once said, I think, therefore I am. I truly exist, don't I? Yes, I and all around me exist. But should those around me? Do they have a right to it? Or are they just priveleged children who take all for granted? Hmm... perhaps they---

"Hey Kagemaru, what you doin'?"

"Hmm? Why are you here?"

"That's cold... I'm just dropping by to say hello."

"Dropping by a park bench?"

"Uh... yeah!"

"Were you following me?"

"No! I uh... just happened to be nearby! It's not like I'm so desperate for friendship I'd stalk people! Hahahahaha!"

"You, my aquaintance, are infinitely strange. Now would you mind leaving me alone?"

"Oh! Uh... sure! Yeah, okay! Uh... seeya Kagemaru!"

Humanity... there can't be higher beings who created us, because they wouldn't create something as annoying as Nobusuke... Or are they less intelligent than even us? Could a higher being really be lower on the scale of intelligence? If they could create us, they would have to have enough power to further their own intelligence... Maybe I'll read up on this.

Kagemaru stood up, and turned to face the sun. Very few clouds today. As he walked, he witnessed a few more displays of Human stupidity. A small child crying because they didn't get a red game, some teens harassing another of their own, indeed... Humanity could not quite handle the mental power they had been gifted with, and thus it seemed their brains overloaded and refused to process to nthe full potential... A strange bunch, and he was one of them. he was also one of the few who could fully make use of their brains. And indeed, he used it. An up and coming philosopher some would say, a mental retard others, there were many names for him. But he preferred Hishin Kagemaru.

[Szayel Aporro]

Since she had picked up the notebook, the feeling that Gin was being followed had gotten stronger. She felt a cold aura behind her, she shivered. Just as she was about to open her mouth to speak, a hand gripped around her mouth, keeping her from making any sort of noise.
Oh she screamed, she screamed her lungs out but the hand stopped her from making a sound.

"That is MY notebook. I'm a Shinigami. There's no point in screaming, only you can see me."
Her heart skipped a beat, more like a couple. The hand loosened itself from her mouth, and she felt it grip her chair, spinning her violently until she saw the being that had followed her into her home.
His face was close to hers, her silver eyes looked around frantically, until they couldn't look anywhere else, except for his face. His breath was cold, he was smiling, scaring her more than when he was just wrapping his hand around her mouth. He looked like two face.

"Boo!"

She stared at him, barely breathing.
"L-Listen! I don't know who you are... or what you want to do... but.... " She couldn't even finish her sentences. "No... wait... I do want to know what your doing here! W-what are you doing here? And... this notebook is yours? What... what the hell?" She glared at him. "Explain yourself! I'm not a pansy!"

[Ashes Remnant]

So, she's gonna be all brave..

Nephothos didn't allow the grin to be removed from his face. Instead, he decided to go for the creepy Shinigami approach. He took his almost human hand and slowly slid it down the side of her face, the sharp metal tips cold against her skin. "Such a pretty little girl. So naive."

He stood to his full height. The towering figure dwarfed the girl in the chair. The jester outfit he wore almost gave the appearance of an undead clown, something he could probably laugh at in another life. He clanked his fingers together, the metal tips making a sound with each touch. The girl had bombarded him with a series of questions. Time to answer her.

"Firstly, my name is Nephothos. I am a Death God. That notebook is mine. I've given it to you, to do what you want. But that is a Death God's notebook, so don't go writing in it like it's your diary or something."

He picked up the white notebook with his thumb and pointer finger, holding it in the top left corner so it dangled freely. "If you write down the name of another human, they'll die. As long as you know what they look like too of course." He tossed the notebook at her. "Of course, if you don't want it, just give it away. Any questions?"

[∞]

Damien started panting heavily as soon as he entered the room of the toilet at the back of the aircraft. Just on his way walking to the toilet, the voice in his head had been explaining what the Death Note was and how it functioned. It distinctly didn't tell him why he had gotten it though.

Drake came out of the toilet a few minutes later, and sat down, going over what he had learnt.

If he were to write the name of a human, and only a human, in the book, with their face pictured in their mind, they would die thirty seconds later of a heart attack. That was the key thing.

After writing their name, Damien then had six minutes and forty seconds to write the way in which they die or kill themselves, which must be realistic. Also, they cannot be commanded to kill others and the effect written down can last no longer than a month.

There were other details, and one that scared Damien: He would need the permission of the Death Note's original owner, a Shinigami, to remove his ownership of it, and that anyone who uses a Death Note is doomed to have their soul kept out of Heaven or Hell when they died. Normally, Damien would disbelieve such things, but a magically appearing Death Note and a mentally-projected voice were more than enough to start him believing.

He was soon particularly cautious of Koki Kariya when he approached him. But soon ,through conversation, the two grew familiar with each other, and Damien even organised a date to meet Kariya, the day before the physics convention.

[Szayel Aporro]

As his hand slid down her cheek, she froze. Gin felt his fingertips scraping down her face, yet not damaging her smooth skin at all. Maybe she wasn't cut out to deal with a death god, once such as this.
"N-naive? I've delt with a lot of crap in my life, a de-..." She was cut off.

She listened as the shinigami explained his notebook, not arguing with his instructions.
He picked up the white notebook with his thumb and pointer finger, holding it in the top left corner so it dangled freely. "If you write down the name of another human, they'll die. As long as you know what they look like too of course." He tossed the notebook at her. "Of course, if you don't want it, just give it away. Any questions?"

"Nice to meet you, Nephothos." She said. "I-I'm... I'm Gin Sayuri... a college student."
Gin caught the notebook, looking through it carefully. The pages were weared, not much writing in them at all. "A notebook that kills people..." The silver eyed girl thought.
"N-no... I don't want to give it away... I'm not... entirely sure if I believe you with this deadly notebook crap..."
Though, in her mind she did.
"...May I test it?" Gin cringed. "Stupid, stupid question..."

[∞]

Damien and Kariya conversed animatedly until the plane landed forty minutes later. After collecting their luggage they bid each other farewell, and Damien made his way to his hotel via taxi. Inside he found a modest yet very comfortable room. Before stepping inside, he took of his shoes, and laid them near the doorway. The room was a strange blend of Eastern and Western that Damien quite liked.

He had a double bed, a television with twenty channels, with ten specialised ones, two for documentaries and science. There was a small kitchen, with toaster, microwave, small pantry and minibar fridge, inside of which were two bottles of Japanese beer. Damien grabbed one of them, and started sipping it, before probing the Death Note with more questions. He tried mostly to get an idea of who or what the Death Note owner was like. All Damien did know was that they were a Shinigami, and of them he also knew very little.

Eventually, Damien flopped back on his arm chair and in his own mind, pieced together the information he had of Shinigami, and tried to visualise just what one might look like.

[Ashes Remnant]

NEPHOTHOS

As the girl told him her name, he couldn't help but let out a deep chuckle. He looked at her. Through his eyes, he could see both her name and her lifespan. The letters and numbers floated over her head, as did everyone he saw. That was the gift of the Shinigami, one he could give, if needed. But now was not the time to discuss such things. This girl didn't even know if the notebook was real or not.

"Sure thing. Come over here."

Nephothos helped her up, and led her over to the door. He even opened it for her. Across the street, a middle aged man was trimming hedges. Nephothos saw his name, but as per the Shinigami rules could not reveal it. Gladly, the man had a custom-made shirt on. The front featured his family, and their picture, and the back showed their names. He pointed at the man.

"On the back of his shirt is his name. Write it down, and after 40 seconds, he'll die of a heart attack."

Nephothos looked down at the girl, smiling. Watching her hand, noting that she was obviously scared. This was fun.

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ACHARU

Shit.

Acharu was late. Seriously. A Death God, late for his own plan! He had heard of a bunch of others that were giving their notebooks away out of boredom, so he planned to do the same. Sadly, he was late for when he was going to do it. He was going to be all secretive and mysterious about it. Dropping it in the middle of a club-filled street at the wee hours of the morning.

He slept in however. Shinigami don't even NEED sleep, and he overslept. That is just awful! So here he was, running through the Shinigami realm to the portal to the human world. Then, as he was running, he tripped over a pile of bones. He fell right into the portal and over Japan. He fell smack dab in the middle of it. Literally.

He stood up and looked around. He didn't see anyone around. Then he began thinking to himself. Hey, maybe I'll get some badass. Oh, I really hope so! He had gotten the brilliant idea to write the basic rules in his notebook, so all he had to do was find someone cool looking. Then he had a better idea. He'd let fate choose his human. Surely, the gods wanted him to have a badass. So Acharu closed his eyes, and let his notebook fly like a frisbee.

And it hit Hishin in the head. Acharu walked up to the person that he had randomly gotten, and looked him up and down. "Damn. My hand is more imposing."

[Szayel Aporro]

"Sure thing. Come over here."

Nephothos helped her up, and led her over to the door. He even opened it for her. Across the street, a middle aged man was trimming hedges. Nephothos saw his name, but as per the Shinigami rules could not reveal it. Gladly, the man had a custom-made shirt on. The front featured his family, and their picture, and the back showed their names. He pointed at the man.

"On the back of his shirt is his name. Write it down, and after 40 seconds, he'll die of a heart attack."

She listened to his instructions yet again. She took the pen, trying to keep her hand from shaking so much. She glanced at the man, looking at his name.
Her heart wretched, knowing that the man probably lived a happy life, having a family that cared about him. But this notebook was more serious.

'Arata Fujiwara' She thought, looking at the man. She looked back at Nephothos before she finally wrote his name down. Clear on the piece of paper, 'Arata Fujiwara.'
"There..." She said to him. "I did it... Now I just have to wait a few seconds, right?"

Just when Gin finished talking, she saw the man. Her own heart was hammering in her chest, watching as the man began to panic, clutching onto his chest, falling to his knees. He gasped for air, slavia began streaming from his lips, his eyes were practically bulging out of his skull.
The torture he must've been feeling through those painful last seconds of his life. He finally fell flat on his chest. A crowd of people gathered around him, blocking Gin's view of the man anymore.

Her silver eyes widened, she placed her free hand over her mouth, keeping her from making a sound. She ran back into her apartment, slamming the door behind her.

She laughed, though not out of amusement. "Y-You weren't kidding. That man... He's dead! He's... dead! Oh my god..." She rambled on, repeating the sentences over and over. She finally shut herself up. "...This... this is great..." She thought out loud.
She ran her hands through her short brunette hair, tightening her grip around the strands of brown, practically ripping her hair by the roots.

[Ashes Remnant]

Nephothos watched the man clutch his chest. Excitement built up in his chest, finally something new. The man Arata died of a heart attack. Gin didn't know it, but the man's children were watching him. They were the first to run to their precious little daddy. So hilarious. Oh how he loved it. Though, just a heart attack is so boring. You don't get to savor the death like that. It's too clean.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut. He slowly turned, watching the girl. She paced back and forth, mumbling incoherently. Is this how all humans react to taking a life? What she was having such a mental breakdown over was a daily thing for a Shinigami. Maybe she knew the man or something. Then she said something that shocked even the Shinigami.

"...This... this is great..."

Nephothos slowly stepped closer to her. He bent his knees slightly to get closer to her level. He cocked his head to the side, and looked at her. That didn't make sense. She didn't make sense. He thought she was going commit suicide or something with the way she was acting. Yet, she seemed excited. He took a deep breath, before speaking in his deep, dark voice once more.

"You just took the life of someone else... And it's a great thing? No one's reacted like that before.."