“how amusing. you call yourself a killer, but you’re only playing a role. you can’t really take what belongs to me, the sovereign of the silent realm.”
“the god of impure demise. that’s me. i know, i know. it’s a dirty job. but someone’s gotta do it. and i’m the best at it. you should see the other guys.”
“be true to myself, huh. fine, ill discard the courteous speech, heh. i hardly speak like that. too much effort.”
He paused
“i guess you’re also sans, huh? a different me, free from the curse. imagine i’m offering you a friendly gesture.”
He elongated his spine, realigning the skeletal structure, and fine-tuned his trusty scythe. “i ponder, can a calcified conundrum like myself experience the agony of toothaches?” He chortled, allowing humor to escape his jaw. “greetings and salutations, fleeting souls.”