"What is that?"

The serval regarded Idyll with a strange expression, unsure of how to exactly perceive this situation. On one hand, the music was lovely (if not entirely vintage sounding) but on the other, she had no idea how it was even playing, let alone how the sage had gone about obtaining it. Etherealgate stared at the gramophone with faint intrigue. She had little to no experience with technology and was as fascinated as she was frightened by the object. She wanted to know more. She also wanted to stay as far away from it as possible. The discovery of a good middle ground left her rooted to the spot, metaphorical eyebrows raised inquisitively. "And," She added, too curious to hold her tongue and wait for them to answer her first question, "Where'd you get it?"

Choosing to be alone and being forced to alone were, in Eth's mind, two entirely separate entities brought together only by a single thread of longing. From the beginning, her fate had spelled out a lifetime in solitude in which she would pay silent reverence to the hundreds, if not thousands, of gods that were worshipped every day. Her own identity had been cast aside, willingly sacrificed so that she might be a better handmaiden: unbiased as she swung her metaphorical sword of justice and charged others for being unworthy of life. Before the Typhoon, the winged serval had not spoken in months. Before the Typhoon, her only contact with any other living soul was sentencing them to die. And gods, she had wanted something different.

She was breaking some unbroken rule by being here, among mortals that had not received their own judgement yet, mortals who would one day cross a threshold while she was stuck, forever making decisions about others fate while having no say in her own. But her time to worry about what punishment was to befall her had passed. She was more interested in living a life that she had been initially denied. A life that had stripped her of a name, of a family, and of a personality of her own. Her neck bristled.

Eth thought that there was a fair bit of irony in her situation. The girl who represented the scales of justice and balance would one day be brought to justice herself. It saddened her to think that a crime so petty as wanting to live would one day sign the warrant for her death, but she had already accepted that she would indeed die for this taste of freedom, however fleeting. Did she find it strange that she was essentially at peace with herself? Perhaps. But a creature cast in death's image should never fear death.

It was faint commotion – a voice, mainly – that brought her back to reality, faraway golden eyes sharpening as she lifted herself to her feet and went to investigate. She recognized only one of the members present, the leader who went by the name of Goldenluxury. She was painting and, briefly, Etherealgate envied her ability to create rather than destroy. "How you always painted?" The serval inquired, glancing only momentarily at the other two that had joined the Roux. As much as she longed to introduce herself, she felt as if it were wrong to do so until she heard Goldie's answer. It was polite to listen, just as it was polite to fully engage with what the other was doing. Now was not the time for petty introductions or the like. "It's very pretty," She added on suddenly, thoughtfully.

(i have not written in a hot sec i'm so sorry for this Mess)

Mortals.

The way that word rolled off her tongue – so casual, so indifferent – was enough to dismiss the rest of Etherealgate's worries, sending them spiraling away into the far reaches of her mind. She had a new puzzle before her, one that was perhaps as divine (or maybe more so) as she was. It was clear that Dovedeparture did not see herself as a regular individual, similarly to how Eth saw herself as a reaper. Gatekeeper. And celestial heritage? That was fascinating. Incredibly so.

She had to soothe the flair of excitement that had sparked in her chest, trying to remain as impassive as possible lest the snowy lynx detect some change in her mood. She schooled her features into a mask of indifference, the tip of her long, rosetted tail twitching almost nonchalantly. "I suppose we both came from places vastly different than this Typhoon," She mused, her hoarse voice barely above a whisper. Those wings. Her use of the phrase "celestial heritage". Her regard to "mortals". Eth nearly had to swallow down a laugh. Of course there was a reason why she looked practically angelic. That had to be it. She didn't know any other explanation.

Her training had included teachings on the various divine helpers. Angels, demons, and her own class: the reapers. She had never run into an angel or a demon though, especially considering they existed in different realms than her own. One dominated the heavens. The other, the various dimensions of hell. And then there was her: stuck in this in between plane of existence. Alive. Delicate. And so very mortal. She felt another tinge of jealousy.

"And is Celestialrobbery divine as well?" She remembered her clearly, the firecracker that seemed to ignite Dove's quiet night. It wasn't her knowledge to know, but Etherealgate had always been hungry for secrets. Secrets gave her strength and none more than her own.

Gatekeeper. That blessed, terrible, wonderful, awful word. Hearing it on the lips of another sent a chill down her spine. Not many knew what she was until the end had already come. She was not a face welcomed by the sick, the frail, the dying. "I assist newly passed souls," She begrudgingly admitted, careful to phrase her words in a delicate enough way to not draw suspicion to her true occupation. Assist was a far fairer way to put judgement and she was sure that a being such as Dove would be able to piece together her real identity with a simple enough slip of the tongue. She had to be wary. "Even now, I can hear them: the whispers from the dead. They seek guidance and advice. My organization is said to be descendants of Charon, the ferryman. We have divinity in our blood, but even our lives are as brief as the flame on a candle. I'm mortal and I'm not. I will always exist in an in between." Her blessing and her curse. She would never know an afterlife. She would never know peace. It exhausted her just to think about that.

"But a deal's a deal, celestial one," She insisted, her voice laced with a note of flatness, "I have my suspicions but I want to hear it from your mouth. What are you, Dovedeparture?"

The ocean frightened her, just as the sky did, and with no other sanctuary to turn to, Etherealgate found herself often patrolling the railroad. Here, the ground did not yield to her every step. Here, an endless blue expanse of sky did not await her. She knew she ought to adjust, but adjusting was hard when you were a creature of habit and, more than that, a reaper who feared death. So she wandered back and forth day in and day out, rarely entertained save when a newcomer stumbled across Typhoon land.

The sudden sound of the bell drew her from her thoughts, a faint sigh of relief escaping from dark lips as she turned and headed towards the sound. Boredom seemed to lurk in every corner of this new life and Eth welcomed this reprieve from it: especially as it came in the form as a serval like herself. She was relatively indifferent to Aspiringfires' tail, subconsciously ruffling her own wings as she regarded it. "Hello," She would greet in her quiet, hoarse voice, glancing at Tanteri and the wings he used. Often. For a brief moment, she wondered what it was like to be able to soar so freely on wings that you trusted. She envied him for a moment. "My name is Eth. What's your name?"

Whereas the two before her had previously dabbled in a myriad of hobbies and had a range interests, Etherealgate realized that she had none. Her life had been sworn away to the occupation of being a companion to the recently passed and a sword against the unjust. Prior to trying to accept a more mortal existence, she had possessed no time for things as simple as reading and writing or as complicated (at least it looked to be that way) as flower pressing: not when there were constantly lost souls that demanded her attention and clairvoyance.

She was skeptical upon approaching admittedly, eying the vividly hued poppies with wide golden eyes. They were lovely, their lives forever preserved thanks to whatever strange technique Dove had used. For a moment, she was jealous of the alabaster lynx with her delicate wings and tender touch capable of saving life and not taking it away. But jealousy was a strange emotion that sat strangely upon her and she found that she already loathed it, wanting reprieve for the negativity she felt towards the other girl for no real reason at all. "How... quaint," She forced out after a moment of silent contemplation, her crooked attempt at a smile coming to life upon her black features, "How did you do it?"

As golden eyes met vivid green ones, Etherealgate attempted something she never had before: a smile. The gesture felt odd and misplaced upon her features, but she hoped it was a sign of her goodwill nevertheless. At least these creatures are not hostile sinners, She thought, a wave of approval washing over her, Though one being does not hardly speak for the rest of them. The amended thought dismissed her approval but she was determined to remain somewhat optimistic about the remainder of the clan. Maybe in this case, one being would speak volumes about everyone else.

"Etherealgate. I've chosen to be called Etherealgate," She finally offered, remembering her own manners. She did not often interact with those who occupied warm, mortal bodies (except to bring them to deliverance) and possessed the tendency to forget her courtesies every so often. She was interested in this Dovedeparture though, with her white fur and angelic wings that almost made her seem like an angel come to earth herself. Almost. Something twisted inside of her, an identifiable emotion that she had rarely – if ever – come across over the duration of her relatively short life. She chose to ignore it for now, instead focusing her attention on another.

Where Dove appeared poised and restrained, Celeste was a vivid and untamed flame in comparison. "Chaos embodied?" She mused, trying out a laugh, "Than surely you haven't met me yet." It was perhaps her first attempt at humor but Eth felt as if she succeeded. She was chaotic, just as she was right and good. Her soul was balanced as all things should be, but that didn't stop her from wanting to partake in some of the fun as well. "I'm Etherealgate," The black serval paused for a moment, considering. One went by Dove and the other Celeste, so it seemed like a regular practice to shorten names. "You can call me Eth however."

(this was also written over like three days because i have no idea how to write anymore)

THE TRUTH IS STRANGER THAN ALL MY DREAMS