The all powerful angel of death. Your landlord.


Tall, draped in black robes. The hood of the robe contains a featureless void, with the only indication of anything existing under the impossible black fabric being pallid skeletal hands protruding from the ends of the sleeves.

Death is genderless, and speaks in a voice that you alone think befits them, so everyone hears Death differently.


In a world of magic, mayhem, and the twisting cycles and versions of life, Death had their hands full. Having worked overtime for the past millennia, Death thought it high time that they moved on to other ventures. Using inhuman business savvy, Death used their infinite power to form the International Reaping Service: a network of lesser spirits known as Reapers working around the clock collecting the souls of the dead.

Their time thoroughly freed up, Death has moved onto ventures that they have always dreamed of doing. Recently they have entered the rough-and-tumble world of real estate, where they serve as landlord to a few houses in the town of Bellinghamlet.

Death has very few friends, and as such clings onto the tenants of the homes they rent out. This is a large reason why not many people rent with Death: few wish to be buddies with the angel of time and decay.


Death and Douchebags Maedene