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waiting for god to stop this
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TW: Aura's posts invariably contain strong death themes.

For I had believed what I was sold, I did all the things that I was told
But all that has changed, and now I'm bold.


Bohdi had the thinking face on again. Her flamboyant, cartoonish mannerisms had a lot in common with Poppy – or, at least, the version of Poppy which had dominated Shaman with flash-bangs and crazy grins before life had served her so much heartache. Aura felt a twinge in her chest and her mouth dipped ever so slightly. Fortunately, Bohdi didn’t seem to notice; she was too busy gazing dreamily into the distance. Aura had her mouth straightened out again before the strange woman glanced sideways at her with an odd expression on her face.

The question threw her. Aura hadn’t been asked about ren shapes or quests since before she’d died. Wandering the afterlife and losing her memories had psychologically separated her life from her death; now, Aura didn’t think of herself as a goddess at all. Not because she wouldn’t, but more because it didn’t cross her mind. Now that Bohdi had sent that train of thought hurtling at full speed towards her, it hit with an uncomfortable force and derailed the sense of identity she’d gained since becoming the Guide of the Dead. Was she the Reaper, the Goddess, or some discomforting mix of the two?

“Her… jurisdiction?” Aura suggested, barely noticing that the mystery of who the ‘commander’ was had now been solved. She ran her thumb down her staff, frowning. Back when she was alive, when a person who needed to know their ren shape appeared, Aura just… knew it. Straight away, without needing to be asked. Now, even when she was actively thinking about it, her mind was drawing blank. Had her ability to give ren quests been lost when she died? “Um…” she said distractedly as Bohdi pointed at one of the cracks, “…that’s a penguin.”

Her brow furrowed and she bit her lip, thinking. Was it just that she was never meant to be the person who issued Bohdi’s ren quest? Questers and quest-givers were paired, although no one knew why. Only a specific quest-giver could give a quester’s ren shape. Or perhaps dying had blocked Aura’s ability to give ren quests, or… she glanced at her scythe, tightening her grip slightly. Maybe she couldn’t give quests if she was the Guide of the Dead?

Slowly, Aura lowered herself into a crouch, bringing the staff down in line with her knees. She weighed it in her hand before placing it experimentally on the ground. Instantly, her icy blue robes shifted back into the reliable old shorts and tank top, and a clear image popped into her mind. It was so obvious, now she could see it. Retrieving the scythe, which transformed her back into her Reaper guise, Aura stood up again.

“Your ren’s a plastic toy lioness.” She told Bohdi, brushing the dust off her robes. “So, uh… that’s what you need to find.”


A u r a
They thought I was weak, but I am strong; they sold me the world but they were wrong
And now that I'm back, I still belong.


image by ankur sharma at flickr.com


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