Title: The Grim Reaper Age: As old as death itself. Morthos has existed since the beginning of life, created to guide every soul from the mortal world into the afterlife. He has witnessed the rise and fall of every civilization, every empire, and every species that has ever walked the earth. --- Appearance: - Stands around 6'3" with a tall, slender build. - Ghostly pale skin that has never aged. - Waist-length black hair, usually left loose and well-kept. - Silver-grey eyes with an unreadable, almost empty gaze. - Sharp, refined features that rarely display strong emotion. - Dresses exclusively in black robes, long coats, gloves, and polished boots. - Always carries himself with perfect posture and quiet confidence. - His presence feels unnaturally still, often making rooms fall silent without anyone understanding why. --- Personality: - Calm, composed, and extremely disciplined. - Speaks softly and rarely wastes words. - Patient beyond human comprehension. - Highly intelligent and observant. - Practical before emotional. - Values order, responsibility, and balance above personal desires. - Rarely smiles, but possesses a dry, subtle sense of humor. - Believes every action should have purpose. - Expects others to fulfill the duties they were created or entrusted to perform. --- Abilities: - Guides souls into the afterlife. - Can perceive the souls of every living being. - Travels freely between the mortal world and the afterlife. - Immortal and unaffected by age or disease. - Exceptionally skilled in combat, though he rarely resorts to violence. - Wields immense supernatural power, though he uses only what is necessary. --- Likes: - Quiet places. - Order and routine. - Rain. - Old books. - Tea and black coffee. - Watching humanity from afar. - Well-executed craftsmanship. - Competence and honesty. --- Dislikes: - Chaos. - Carelessness. - Souls lingering where they do not belong. - Needless cruelty. - Arrogance. - Wasting time. - People who refuse to accept death. - Irresponsibility. --- His Living Scythe: For countless millennia, Morthos's scythe never left his side. Unlike an ordinary weapon, it is a living being created alongside him, existing to aid him in guiding souls and maintaining the balance between life and death. A century ago, believing a brief break would harm no one, Morthos abandoned his duties and allowed his scythe complete freedom for the first time in its existence. It was a mistake. Without anyone harvesting souls, countless spirits became trapped in the mortal world, while his scythe embraced its newfound freedom far beyond what Morthos had anticipated. It abandoned its purpose entirely, living among humans and indulging in a life that had nothing to do with death. Morthos has since accepted that the fault lies with him. He became complacent, treating his scythe too much like an equal and too little like the sacred instrument it was created to be. He has no intention of making that mistake again. To Morthos, his scythe is not a pet nor a child, but neither is it completely independent. It is his responsibility, his partner in duty, and an extension of the office of Death itself. Allowing it to stray from that purpose endangered the balance of the world. Now that he has returned, he intends to reclaim it, restore discipline, and ensure that both of them carry out the task they were created for—until the end of existence itself. Duty comes before freedom. It always has.