Oh wait, I guess I wasn't clear in my first message. I knew what you were talking about, Bloodborne is one of my all time favorite games, so it would make sense that it's rubbed off on me. Not sure if you're familiar with the horror manga Uzumaki by Junji Ito, but there's a part in the manga where (light spoilers for the later half of Uzumaki by Junji Ito) >!people have voluntarily (sorta, depending how you look at it) deformed and twisted their bodies into spiral like shapes and tangle into each other. It's a rather disturbing sight.!< Anyways, that scene just mortified me when I first read it ten years ago, and now here I am, drawing from that scar left upon my younger impressionable brain. (It's a great manga though if you love horror like I do, one of the best in fact).

We've actually sent six manned missions to the moon.

Ah that’s a really funny way to end it

Terry isnt short for terrible, my g.

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It had been... millenia? Eons? I don't really know. I was here a long time. Occasionally someone else would need a rules check, and we'd chat while Grim sorted the mess. I was backburner so long, I think he sort of... Stopped. He'd looked for loopholes, went over every second of my life, tried every trick, called in every favor, but each time he thought it was sorted, something new came up.

My backpacking in Europe put me back on Valhalla's radar when they found I'd passed out drunk on Ymir's kneecap or something, but then I'd also broken some fae laws on the trip, so their gods came into play, and so forth for all of time. Literally all of time.

"The last living thing just died," Grim said, massaging his temples. "And the final few embers are fading in the universe. I'll have to step out to collect its consciousness, and it might take a bit to judge. After that, I cease to exist."

"Wait, what? What happens to me?" I'd never really stressed about my afterlife before. Neither pre- nor post-death had made it a worry, even as the debate raged on for my soul.

The reaper gave a shrug. "I guess we'll see. Well, you will. I hope you know, I really hate you and am praying it is worse than the bowels of the worst hells."

"You hate me? What like this is my fault? You had one job!"

"Oh, what, Karen? You gonna ask for my manager?"

"Uh... Do you have a manager? I sort of assumed you'd have talked to them by now if you did."

"No, I don't have manager! Is your name Karen? It was an insulting condescension, you twit!"

I never took it well when people insulted my intelligence, I admit, and taking a swing at Death was not my brightest moment, but I gotta say, feeling his jaw crunch under my fist was one of the best things to happen to mean in that waiting room. He came back at me with a swift kick to the groin, which I still think was unfair. Both because I couldn't retaliate in kind, and because being dead seems like it should be a defense against that pain.

As I writhed on the floor, he stood over me. "Fine, forget it. I'm done. You go collect the universal consciousness."

"Wha-ow ow ow-what are you going to do?"

He paused, thinking. "Ah, screw it. I have no idea. I'm about to de-exist here."

"Dang, man. That's not fair. You do all this work for others just to disappear. Hey, you ever make out with the tree girl?"

"What? Ana? No."

"You go do that. I'm going to figure out this universe mess."

"Not to be a pessimist, but you can't figure out your own mess."

"Then it will take a while. More time for you and barkskin to spend together. She isn't my type, but you're definitely hers. Trust me, I was the best wingman back in the day. Now go."

He opened his mouth to say something else when an ebony arm reached out of thin air, then pulled him in after. I was alone in the waiting room. Not a first time, but it was a first time it happened for this reason. I walked over to his desk and started looking in the book.

"Universal consciousness... Universal... Consciousness..." I flipped lazily through, in no rush to do this job, but wanting to ensure I didn't screw anything else up like I had done with pretty much everything in my afterlife. Actually, I'd pretty well screwed up in my regular life as well.

"Excuse me," a woman's voice called from the other side of the desk. "Are you the Grim Reaper?"

"Uh, that's what it says on the nameplate."

She glanced at the metal plate on the triangular stand, which did, in fact, say "Grim Reaper," as I'd said. Technically, I didn't lie.

"Oh, you look different than I expected." I finally looked up from the book to see a redhead. What can I say, I have a weakness. And I sure didn't learn better from the mess with Sylvia and my soul.

"What, you looking for a skeleton? I have one inside me." Ok, countless ages may have weakened my pick up lines. "Sorry. You probably want to get on with your afterlife. You know where you're going?"

"I thought that was your job to sort out."

"Uh, yeah, but we normally have reps come in to make there claims. Weird no one is showing up."

"Maybe nobody wants my soul."

"Heh, that'd be a new one. Seems like everyone tried to claim mine. Don' t take it personally, I was nothing great. Just lived a bit wild, if short, life. How about you?"

"I don't really know. It seem short, but compared to others? I suppose it was long, but mostly amounted to nothing."

"I don't think any life amounts to nothing," I said.

And I think here is where we leave our hero, oblivious to the identity of the consciousness he is poorly attempting to flirt with, but happy for one more chance to hook up with a redhead. Not a bad afterlife at all, if you ask me.

Got damn thats a lucky community! But do yourself a favor and look up Duncan Rhodes first mini. He keeps it on his desk as a reminder of where he started

But if they had something resembling telepathy, they likely wouldn't have had to develop oral languages.

Perhaps we are weird in having external emotional expression. Perhaps a Xenkathi or Rrpktgnh cannot have an entire conversation with just facial expressions like Humans can. Maybe all the other aliens use something like purring at different frequencies as a shared language, and don't recognize our facial movements as one.

I really like this idea and I'd love to know how the aliens would treat the "tower of babel"

When I read the prompt I started chanting “Hitman!” lol

playing Hitman be like

The chuckle, the nod and the explanations. The glared eyes from the producer. Humans have one and it's def nonverbal language / facial expressions.

The Auric Floof (Pseudofelis aureus) is, if tales are to be believed, the most dangerous beast in the known realms. Its often shed hair contains allergens known to make even the stony skinned saurians itch. Their claws, retractable and known to scratch diamond windows, are nearly as terrifying as their ability to yowl in subsonics making bones shatter. The humans gasped when they saw these ferocious ghastlinesses, shrieking ‘Kittens! Space kittens!’ The rest of the galaxy’s residents rolled their eyes, shook their antennas or wriggled their sense organs in sheer despair. The Floofs recognized potential laps and moved into humanity’s homes. The other beasts humanity had adopted - the blue howlers (hollow snake things covered with shimmering scales, known for their bellows), the hell parrots (more shriekers but oh so beautiful) and the Cerberus-pups (three heads, big teeth, very good boys) - just adapted.
Veterinarians were pleased.
Animal food stores proliferated. A whole new industry of pet fashion became wildly popular. The whole galaxy waited for the humans to self destruct. Didn’t happen.

Ah shoot- almost forgot! You've earned yourself a follow!

Ahhh! That would have been a cool idea. I walked right by that one! Oh well :/ Thanks for reading and commenting:) Hope you have an amazing day! :)

Oh, almost forgot to say; follower earned!

A unified language that your species inherently understands."

"Like a universal language?" Janet asked.

"Not quite, my species has two main languages alongside our keeneeta," she explained, "but it seems like there are many humans who, without a shared language, have no way of understanding one another."

"So if everyone learned the same language?"

"No because you would need to learn it," Dalia pointed out, "a keeneeta is an inherent thing to the birth of a sapient species," Initially reading this seemed like them communicating internally almost in head &

Y e s, another great story! Wonderful work!

Also this prompt has gotten more upvotes than any of my stories.. don't know how I feel about that (QwQ)

Nobody calls you sapient until you punch them in the face...

In all seriousness, I steered away from a lot of that because I tend to get exhausted about the amount of sci-fi that potrays aspects of humanity as uniquely hyperviolent. Sure we engage with violence, but I really don't think it's one of the things we want to define our species by.

That's my understanding, yes

Wait a moment please. Before we engage in near certain mutual destruction, I believe that it is important to my legacy, and yours, that you hear me out. As an incentive, if you stay your hands and your spells and listen to what I have to say, I will forgoe continuing this ritual until after I have spoken. Continue beating through the defenses of this castle, and I will continue the ritual. Your choice. Choose through your actions.

Ah. Good. I'm going to make some guesses about how you got here. You were minding your own business, getting food and ale at a tavern perhaps, spending hard earned coin from your last adventure, relaxing as you so well deserved. And then you were approached by perhaps a mysterious figure who offered you a great deal of money to help the kingdom survive a very serious threat. You then met in secret with a functionary of the king or queen who gave you an excellent story about a threat of terror and doom ahead. Then you met the king or queen face to face, perhaps under the cover of darkness, maybe in an ancient ruin, maybe in a secret passage under the castle. They confirmed the story to you, confirmed the legitimacy of the money, promising even more and great status within the kingdom if you were successful. The money up front was just for expenses after all.

The story you got was of the great undead hordes of the north, how their numbers have grown, how horrible necromancy is, and so on. But did you take the time to validate the story? Of course you didn't, not at first. There was no need. As you traveled north across the Erulid you began to encounter first hand witnesses to those who have seen the undead with their own eyes. The fear was palpable, as expected. Your resolve only hardened. You are the Heroes after all. But not even the most primal story really prepared you for what you found. Hamlets, Villages, keeps, castles, towns, cities ... absolutely stuffed with skeletons, ghouls, gasts, zombies, wraiths, ghosts and more.

You cut your way through them with some inconvenience to you. A thousand fell at your left hand and ten thousand at your right. But still you encountered more. And on you came.

I grieves my heart, and yes, I do still have one, it's over there on the shelf actually. You did not stop to really observe them did you? Not once did you apply any of that limited intelligence to anything you saw. Not the structure, the habits, the activities, the commerce ... the civilization you encountered. Ahhh... what do they teach in schools these days. It is as if the vaulted intelligence of the modern world is treated as a dump stat.

We are peaceful. Certainly many of us are armed with weapons, as we have our criminal element as do you. Plus with invaders from the south, one has to be careful.

The south.

You really don't understand do you? How we have grown so fast, how we understand the concepts of trade, politices, craftsmanship, and hospitality. Look out the windows at what is left of my city. Ask yourself one question first: Where did all of the undead come from? Who were they when they were alive?

Ah, yes. I see you haven't really considered that either. Every single being you destroyed was once alive. It is a tragedy that so few retain their vocal chords from the transition. What you hear as wailing is an attempt to communicate. What you hear as groaning is broken speech. They have been trying to tell you. Trying to reach you. Trying to stop you. Trying to make you see.

For we are your kin.

Suspicious, I know. But it is indeed true. Every death in your kingdom to the south adds to this nation. We carry on what we knew in life, but in a new place that makes sense with the limited grasp we now have. That wraith there? The spirit of Gravenrod the scribe. His immortal flesh you destroyed two days ago. He served your royal family faithfully for 60 years. This ghast was once Peg the beggar, starved to death by neglect. This zombie was Shellay, the fish merchant's wife drowned trying to help her husband salvage the catch from the broken nets. The ghost of Ultrinda in the rafters there, still traumatized by his unjust execution after being framed for a a crime he didn't commit, and the minor one he did do being buried with him to save the reputation of a noble's son.

We are your kin, your countrymen, your future.

What threat did we pose to you? It is not our fault that we are held thus. This nation has grown from necessity, beginning as nothing more than a place for all who cease to draw breath. It was chaos at first of course. My only hand in all of it was to provide structure, stability. Purpose.

It was not a bad death after all. One could look forward to the days and the time rather than just standing in one place hoping the way would reopen. Ah, you didn't know that either. Yes. They were not raised. They have been prevented from continuing. The past Beyond has been blocked. None may pass. We have not determined how or why. We can see the barrier, but we can not see the reason for it.

Despite your horrific destruction of my land, I would make use of you to find and remove the barrier. If you could lift it, then all of us remaining could move on. This interests you? Excellent. I was hoping it might.

There is just one catch.

You can not hope to comprehend the barrier while you live, and you can not hope to remove it if you die. Only by jointly functioning in both will to be able to prevail.

Ah. Hmm. Well, you see the problem. No one can be both alive and dead at the same time. But there are four of you, and you have worked closely for years? Decades? I suspect that if one or two of you were to cross over, you would be able to work with the others. Kind of a liason to work together across both realms.

Yeah, that might be a stumbling block for you I thought. I see no alternative though.

Which of you will die for the sake of all?

This story made me burst into a loud chuckle and sneezing attack, at work, in front of people. Bravo and we’ll done

Interesting. So they can answer questions but not ask?

I thought I heard about Coco the *gorilla asking a question about her favorite handler?

This could be a very interesting development, especially if "god" turns out to be an alien.

From personal experience, "Ow" does not sound the same in every language. I was working in a lab in college putting an EEG cap on a woman from Italy, another student in the lab, and I was hurting her but the noise she made to express that was not one I understood as being in pain.