Chill opened his eyes as a deep breath of air was drawn in on instinct, the shock of sudden awakening leaving him instantly alert. Looking down he patted his chest, clawing at the spot where the whole in his chest had just been. "What... is this...?" He traced his fingers over the spot, recalling his last moments. What had happened? Where was he? Lost in thought, he furrowed his brow. Was this some cheap trick? Had the cruelty of the saiyans known no end? Was this a dream? Was thi-
"You're dead, sir." Chill snapped his head over to his side, seeing a red-skinned figure in a business suit with a clipboard. "What did you say?" He forked his tongue and narrowed his eyes into slits, angry and confused and welling his- "I wouldn't bother readying your energy, sir. I'm sorry to shock you, but... this is the Check-In Station. You have died." Why, how dare he? Chill would show him. Chill readied a blast.
Nothing was happening?
Perhaps he was right. Chill thumbed his forehead in frustration, and looked up at the line ahead of him. Peoples of all races and kinds. Chill looked over at the monotone red figure and bowed his head in somber, graceful acceptance. "I understand." Chill's eyes wandered forward and watched the anxiety in the line before him. Uncertainty, worry. Had they been good enough? Chill knew his answer already.
"I suppose I am to be judged. What must I do?" His inquiry was half-hearted at best. The judgement was inevitable. "When you approach the great King Yemma, simply tell him your best deed, and your worst deed. I would warn against lying, but... It is pretty common, so I guess you can do whatever. Good luck." Before Chill could thank the figure, he toddled off down the line to assist some other bewildered member of the dead.
As he waited in the line, Chill pondered on what he might present to 'King Yemma'. His worst deed was quite hard to narrow down. He had committed many horrors in his lifetime, some of which were far worse than most could ever conceive. It was strange, that the morbid humor he often indulged in while thinking about this things was lost on him in this moment. He merely ran through each and every terrible thing he'd ever done, emotionless, as he shuffled forward in the line.
When the time came he looked up to the enormous red giant, and nodded his head softly. "I will not waste your time, Lord Yemma. I am a man of atrocious morality, and I know this." With a clutched hand, he let the words form themselves without overthinking them. "I will start with the best of my good deeds, of which there are few. I risked my life for an innocent child, and I loved her with all that my cold and malicious heart could give." The realization dawned on him, the he would probably never see her again. It was heartbreaking, and it led him to his second realization. "My worst deed, by far... was the murder of Duke Kalabas of Strongbone. There is no greater tragedy that will scar my legacy, and memory."
With a graceful curtsy, he dropped low in respect of the overseer of death. "This is my truth, and the legacy I leave. Do with me what you will."
Post by King Yemma on Aug 11, 2019 15:53:07 GMT -6
King Yemma let the little puffball wait a while as he finished the entire Kai Monthly feature about the surprising health benefits of fasting cleanses with Ultra Divine Water, halfway ignoring the dead Arcosian's jibber-jabber. It was the usual list of misgivings and regrets, anyway. He'd heard it all before.
The King of Ogres grunted and muttered at the appropriate parts, and when it was all done he glared down from his magazine, crumpling it in one humongous fist. At least this one was kind of short and to the point... but on the other hand, who did this pipsqueak think he was? Did he think he could get away with shortchanging King Yemma?
"Well, is that all?" King Yemma demanded, leaning forward in his chair, his shadow blanketing Lord Chill 's spirit ominously. "Too noble to get down on your tiny cloud-knees and beg, is that it? I haven't had a good begging in a while." Hefting his trusty old gavel, his glowering face reflected in its massive head, he raised it high into the air. "I know just the place that'll bring you down a peg or two..."
The gavel swung down mightily, cracking into King Yemma's desk with a terrible boom.
Last Edit: Aug 11, 2019 15:54:07 GMT -6 by King Yemma
Oct 18, 2019 16:18:45 GMT -6
Scallio: He'd spent his entire childhood with space right outside his window. He watched for years as planets came and went like the seasons. One of two constants in his world of continuous change.