[Fic] Nor Immemorial - Tessa, Death, wild OTT eschatological speculation, 11x01 tag
Title: Nor Immemorial
Genre: gen, eschatological speculation, 11x01 tag
Characters: Tessa, Death
Word Count: 279
Summary: Purgatory is bountiful in Death’s presence.
Notes: No spoilers beyond 11x01. Frankly, I'm not even sure there are spoilers for 11x01. XP
She’s in the trees with the rest of the reapers, spread like moss in the branches. Tessa lost the right to her old form--even here, in papery, imaginary Purgatory--when she stabbed it with Cain’s blade, so now she chooses moss.
But when Death comes, Tessa wills herself into a bird and flutters down to meet his shoulder.
What are you doing here? she trills. You can’t kill Death.
Death lets her hop onto his finger. It’s shiny with spicy grease.
He says, You can’t kill reapers, either. At least, were I the one to write the universe, these are the rules I’d follow. But this is hardly a universe I crafted.
But you presided at its inception, Tessa insists. There’s been Death since Creation, since Chaos. Since time immemorial.
Death’s chuckle puffs up Tessa’s plume.
Death is neither immortal, nor immemorial, he says. Merely inspired paratext.
But then, everything-- Tessa begins. Everything, Tessa finishes.
I believe God once called it vandalism, Death explains simply. But no one ever suspects an old man in a fine coat. Not of that.
The Winchesters are going to find out, Tessa objects, with grudging certainty. They'll find out that you’re not who you said you were. That you know more than you’re letting on. We won’t be safe here.
And Tessa, on edge, becomes a bigger bird. Knife-feathered and long-taloned.
All around, Purgatory is shifting, becoming--growing lush and green in Death’s presence. Moss crawls from all corners and coats all the gray trees, the gray earth. It smells of loam and decomp. Purgatory is bountiful in Death’s presence.
They’ve never been terribly quick, Death points out.
We have some time.
a/n: The Darkness didn’t seem to know who Death was; maybe we don’t either. O_o;; Naturally, I got carried away with the prospect, and now I really want the rest of this ridiculous Reforestation AU. /O\
I imagine that things killed with either the First Blade or Death's Scythe go someplace other than Purgatory (especially since it's now so easy to get in and out), but I suspect both Death and Tessa are an order of being easily misfiled.
Genre: gen, eschatological speculation, 11x01 tag
Characters: Tessa, Death
Word Count: 279
Summary: Purgatory is bountiful in Death’s presence.
Notes: No spoilers beyond 11x01. Frankly, I'm not even sure there are spoilers for 11x01. XP
She’s in the trees with the rest of the reapers, spread like moss in the branches. Tessa lost the right to her old form--even here, in papery, imaginary Purgatory--when she stabbed it with Cain’s blade, so now she chooses moss.
But when Death comes, Tessa wills herself into a bird and flutters down to meet his shoulder.
What are you doing here? she trills. You can’t kill Death.
Death lets her hop onto his finger. It’s shiny with spicy grease.
He says, You can’t kill reapers, either. At least, were I the one to write the universe, these are the rules I’d follow. But this is hardly a universe I crafted.
But you presided at its inception, Tessa insists. There’s been Death since Creation, since Chaos. Since time immemorial.
Death’s chuckle puffs up Tessa’s plume.
Death is neither immortal, nor immemorial, he says. Merely inspired paratext.
But then, everything-- Tessa begins. Everything, Tessa finishes.
I believe God once called it vandalism, Death explains simply. But no one ever suspects an old man in a fine coat. Not of that.
The Winchesters are going to find out, Tessa objects, with grudging certainty. They'll find out that you’re not who you said you were. That you know more than you’re letting on. We won’t be safe here.
And Tessa, on edge, becomes a bigger bird. Knife-feathered and long-taloned.
All around, Purgatory is shifting, becoming--growing lush and green in Death’s presence. Moss crawls from all corners and coats all the gray trees, the gray earth. It smells of loam and decomp. Purgatory is bountiful in Death’s presence.
They’ve never been terribly quick, Death points out.
We have some time.
a/n: The Darkness didn’t seem to know who Death was; maybe we don’t either. O_o;; Naturally, I got carried away with the prospect, and now I really want the rest of this ridiculous Reforestation AU. /O\
I imagine that things killed with either the First Blade or Death's Scythe go someplace other than Purgatory (especially since it's now so easy to get in and out), but I suspect both Death and Tessa are an order of being easily misfiled.