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DHL info page: Rosalyn: EDITName: Typically likes to be called Rosalyn . She has no real name.
Specie: Death spirit(Earth life) /manticore
Age: a little under a billion years.
Size: size of a large lion
Weight: She won't be weighed with anyone looking and then lies about it anyway, but roughly three hundred pounds.
Job as a death spirit: Simply to be a catalog of every death ever on earth ever. If it dies she knows when. If you can give her a name than she can tell you exactly when that person died, if they died on earth. If she can't come up with an answer than there still quite alive. She can not tell when something will die unless she were looking at it and it were obvious that they were going to die at certain time.
Back story: Unfortunately for her no one really knows that there is more than one death. So when ever someone asks death to appear for some sort of desperate negotiation to save themselves one is picked randomly from the unoccupied lot lounging around earth or what ever planet is in
AerosolIt has been a day and a half since the crash, and I have found a cabin. In some ways, this is a relief. I don’t know if I could face another night on the mountain without shelter. Outside, a fire does no good: the heat simply travels upwards. However, this place also raises some difficult questions. I estimate that I’ve put eight miles between myself and the crash site. I don’t know if this will be enough. It Saving...
occurs to me that I don’t really know anything.
The survival manual recommends staying with the plane. It explains that this affords the best chance of rescue. It explains that the wreckage offers warmth and shade. It explains that seventy percent of pilots who stay are located within three days, while seventy percent of those who leave are
Stuck The car sputtered and shook as it came to an almost silent stop. The engine had gone silent as the horn beeped loudly through the dark night. The orange gas light blinked mockingly at the woman behind the wheel. It was making fun of her; she knew it was making fun of her. Grabbing the black cellular phone on the passenger seat, she looked at it with full intention of calling somebody to come help her.
“Oh, what the hell?!”
The “no service” sign was mocking her at the same exact time. The horn beeped loudly as she slammed her head against it once again. The day was out to get her in general. She had arrived at all her classes late, and her son was sick with the flu. The babysitter was able to watch him as she went to her late night classes. Giving a heavy sigh, she lifted her head off the wheel to look out the window. Drops of water pooled on the windshield as rain started to fall in a pitter-patter pattern. She didn’t quite understand the message th
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