The War

Gaia looked over at her. "Is something the matter?"

She froze. She shook her head.

"Then why are you hiding?"

OOC: Story's up.

IC: Diane blinked. 'Stop it.'

"Stop what?"

OOC: kay

Diane decided to ignore her.

Gaia stopped.

Diane wondered what to do.

Florence was talking to the other Reapers.

Diane waited for someone to approach her and ask if she was okay. As they always did.

A rather large male Reaper with a scar running down his face approached Diane and asked if she was okay.

She shrugged and followed him back to the s=circle and watched them interact. She was not very social.

Despite his rugged appearance, Luther was legitimately worried about her. He watched Florence joke around with Martin like drunk college buddies.

She looked at him. 'Am I supposed to say something?' She had never really had a casual conversation with another living this besides the stray dog she often saw around the city when she was alive. She was currently looking for his spirit.

Luther was unaware of this.

The rest of the Reaper were watching Florence and Martin make absolute fools of themselves.

She looked at them and made a small smile. "Complete idiots, the lot of them." She said quietly.

Florence was just joking around when he suddenly noticed Cassandra. Her face was covered in scars. He noticed Luther also had a scar running down his face. He froze, suddenly remembering the day he had attacked them and inflicted those scars.

Martin poked him. "You alright there?" He asked.

Diane say Cassandra too. Her own scars started to burn. Diane felt emotions well up inside her. She found herself asking all too familiar questions. 'Why me?'

Florence noticed Diane. The memories of grade school came flooding back.

Martin wasn't sure what was wrong with Florence.

Diane tried to slink back into the shadows.

Florence fell to his knees. He had never noticed that damage he had caused until now.

Diane thought it best to run. She didn't notice an old piece of paper fall from her pocket as her feet hit the ground.

Luther noticed Diane run off. He looked at the paper she had dropped and picked it up.

It was an old picture of five year old Florence and Diane, making faces for the camera, eating birthday cake. In neat handwriting on the bottom, Diane's mom maybe, it read: Diane and Edmund's birthday. And the year. They had shared a birthday.

Luther looked at the picture and then at Florence. His hair had a white streak now, but the child in the picture was definitely him. Luther wasn't sure what to think.