The Apartment in front of the Deaths

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Death, having settled into the form you perceive him as, gestures towards the rest of the bar. "Now, let's address why you're here."

You find a stool, worn but still holding strong, and dust it off before sitting down. The action feels grounding, oddly reassuring in this surreal setting.

Death shifts slightly, looking almost amused. "It's been ages since I've had a sit-down conversation. You've caught me in a rare moment of rest."

You take a deep breath, the reality of your situation starting to sink in. Death, the end of the line, is right in front of you. And yet, here you are, sitting and talking as if this is just another ordinary day.

Death can't help but burst into laughter, a sound you wouldn't have expected from the embodiment of the end. "You know, I don't get many who crack jokes about their own demise!"

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Death casts their eyes downward, the corners of his mouth twitching with a hint of annoyance. "Ah, yes. About this place... You see, it's a rather strange tale."

Fidgeting with his attire, Death takes a deep, unnecessary long breath. "A few days ago—or was it eons? Time tends to blur—a rather insolent raven came tapping at my window pane. Not just any raven, mind you, but one with an attitude that could rival the surliest of souls."

"They squawked and squabbled, demanding my attention. And when I finally gave in to their incessant cawing, the bird dropped a heavy responsibility onto my already overburdened shoulders. It seems this bar," Death gestures around with an exaggerated sweep of his arm, "was without an owner, and the raven believed I was somehow equipped to find a suitable replacement."

Just as Death's voice hits a crescendo of frustration, a mocking caw echoes from the bar's shadowy corners. "Ah! There it is, the embodiment of my recent vexation."

From the darkness, a voice drips with sarcasm, "Did you find my task too challenging, Reaper? Or perhaps you're just too engrossed in your existential woes to deal with a simple bar?"

The raven gives an exaggerated sigh. "Well, considering the vast, intellectually stimulating company I keep," it gestures with a wing towards the void outside, "I've had to develop my conversation skills. You, on the other hand..."

Death, with a hint of amusement, interjects, "Alright, enough with the theatrics. We have matters to discuss."

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