Agents of Death Chapter 1: Unfinished Business

[Toastburner B]

If you're gonna die, die with your boots on,
If you're gonna try, well stick around,
Gonna cry, just move along,
If you're gonna die, you're gonna die.

Iron Maiden - Die With Your Boots On

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“You should really stop doing that,” a voice with a French accent said.

Karen Dobson didn’t even turn around to see Jean Delacroix standing behind her. “Why not, it’s not against the rules, is it?” she asked.

Delacroix walked up behind her. “No, it isn’t, but it can’t be too good for your state of mind.”

Karen didn’t say anything, just nodded. Jean was her “trainer”, her shadow. He was supposed to make sure she could live up to the standards Death placed on his agents. He was alright, for a aristocratic jerk from the 1700s. He had every right to be worried about his charge. Every free moment she had been spent here…on a building overlooking the day-care where her daughter spent the day while her widower husband worked to keep food on the table.

“After all, it is not like you could go in there and tell them to take better care of your daughter, if it came down to it, no?” Delacroix added.

Karen snorted. “You do have a point there, I suppose.” Karen turned around, and looked at the taller man. “Did you ever check in on your family?”

Jean gave a dismissive shrug. “The only family I had was my wife…and as it turned out, she was the one who arranged to have the revolutionaries arrest me. Of course, I only found this out when the boss killed off the people who arranged my execution, as per my deal.”

Karen suppressed a sigh. It wasn’t the first time Jacque had regaled her with that particular story. “I suppose you didn’t come all this way just to chide me about keeping an eye on my daughter?”

“Indeed not. The boss has another job for us.”

Karen raised an eyebrow. “Undead or Immortal?”

“Immortal,” Jacque answered. “Very immortal. This one has been a pet project of the boss for quite for about a century. The boss is gathering a group of Agents to take this guy down, including us, so we better get going.”

Karen cast one last look back down at the daycare, and followed Jacque towards the nearest shadow. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“St. Petersburg.”

Karen scoffed. “Did Death arrange a plane for us or something?”

“We have the Veil,” Jacque said, entering the shadows, “We don’t need any flying machine.”

Jacque disappeared from the world. Karen wasn’t experienced enough to enter the Veil quite so easily. She concentrated for a few seconds, and followed Jacque in. The colors of the world faded, like washed-out watercolors. Light and shadow separated themselves even further, removing “soft shadows” and “dim light”. Jacque was waiting for her.

“Don’t look so worried,” Jacque said. “Traveling to Russia is as easy as it was for you to travel here from where we were.”

“Only with the minor inclusion of an ocean,” Karen said dryly.

Jacque said nothing, only looked around for a bit. Then, he decided on a direction. Karen did the same, until some instinct she never had while she was alive. “That way?” she asked.

Jacque nodded, “That way.”

Karen took in a deep breath, and let it go. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

Jacque nodded. “Try to keep up, if you would.”

Jacque took a step off the edge of the building, and darted off into the air.

Karen sighed again. “Man, I wish there was a way to do this outside the Veil.”

She then jumped off the edge of the building herself, and followed her mentor into the wild grayish-blue wander.

((OOC: Surprise! You can fly in the Veil…AND ONLY IN THE VEIL! Really, I couldn’t think of a better way for Agents to be able to get around, and just makes your advantage in the Veil that much more decisive.

Again, fly in Veil: yes. Fly outside of Veil: no. Very no.))

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It had taken them some hours to fly to their destination inside the Veil, which meant that, outside the Veil, it had taken mere minutes. Karen landed next to Jacque on the rooftop of an old church, and followed him inside. Inside, standing in the loft, was a man with a black suit…and utterly average man.

Karen caught her breath as she recognized him.

“Jacque, Karen,” Death said in greeting.
“Bonjour, boss,” Jacque said. The Frenchman had had centuries to get used to the presence of Death. “Come to make sure we get our man.”

“Indeed I have,” Death said, not looking up from his point of view. “Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin has evaded me quite long enough, and I am tried of losing reapers and agents to him.”

Death looked up at the pair. “I summoned a few others for this hunt. I am here to observe, not to interfere. Wait for the other agents to arrive, and proceed as you see fit.”

Jacque shrugged, and sat down, resting against a pillar. There was nothing to do now but to wait for the others to arrive.

((OOC: Ah, the much hated “role call”. Don’t you just hate it when GMs do that?))