Of Cutie Marks, Crusading, and Limbo
Later that day, the Cutie Mark Crusaders and their otherworldly client found themselves back at the clubhouse, discussing what could be done about their predicament.
"Mmkay," Scootaloo mumbled from around the crayon in her mouth "we've comphiled a lisht of--" Scootaloo took a moment to spit out the crayon "We've compiled a list of some things that we think might suit you talent-wise!"
Truthfully, it wasn't a particularly long list, and it didn't have much input from Death Himself, but that was probably because he didn't really have any hobbies or interests besides the whole reaping thing. He lifted the list with his magic, red orbs in his skull scanning the crudely scribbled words. Though he had no brow to arch, the confusion was almost visible across his pallor face anyhow.
"Are you quite sure about some of these? I'm having trouble picturing number 12 in particular."
"Don't worry, Mr. Reaper!" Sweetie Belle reassured. "The Cutie Mark Crusaders always find a solution! And we never give up, do we, girls?"
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo shared a glance of unsureness, trying to remember numerous times they'd almost given up.
"Do we, girls?" Sweetie Belle emphasized.
"We sure don't!" Apple Bloom sounded off. Scootaloo pounded her hooves together in determination.
"Then let's get started on the case that'll make the CMC famous!" Sweetie Belle thrust a hoof towards her friends, who each placed one atop hers. Smiling, Sweetie gestured with her eyes for Death to join in, and he did so reluctantly.
"CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS, GO!!! The girls cheered as they raised their hooves to the sky.
Talent Test #1: Landscaping
The fillies led their guest to a large open field on the outskirts of Sweet Apple Acres. Apple Bloom had been a little hesitant to do so, both because she was somewhat distrustful of Death (though she didn't let her suspicion show to her friends,) and because she didn't wish to get in trouble with Applejack or Granny Smith should something go awry. Nonetheless, the three ponies and a supernatural entity found themselves before a plain of grasses and weeds, which was normally a hayfield for the Apple Family when it was in season.
"I mean, this is what a scythe is intended for, right?" Sweetie Belle's lilting voice inquired. "If not a farmer, you might make a good groundskeeper! Or a landscaper!"
"Lawn maintenance is a very important part of maintaining property value in today's housing market." Scootaloo added with a nod.
Everypony looked at her, somewhat astonished. The little Pegasus shrugged.
"The doctor's office has magazines for a reason, guys."
Death turned his attention back to the field, a somber voice sounding out from within the skulls of those near.
"I was destined to be a reaper of a different sort, or so I thought. Since the first pony passed out of this world, I have existed. For untold millennia, I have watched them come and go, each one's life but a blink in time, falling like leaves from trees or blades of grass. The company I keep only grows, but even so, the living keep living just the same."
The Crusaders were momentarily silent.
"Ooooookaaaaaay..." Apple Bloom drawled out.
"And apparently I'm weird." Scootaloo muttered.
"Well, time to try some new talents!" Sweetie Belle chimed, gesturing to the field with a smile. "Give grass cutting a go!"
Death took a step back, planting one of his hooves into the ground as he shifted his scythe off his shoulders. The Crusaders stepped back a good ways for their own safety. The reaper's eyes seemed to narrow as he raised his blade above his head, the large orb in its head seeming to glow and ripple with ethereal fire.
Finally, he swung the scythe in a great, sweeping arc before him, and the air seemed to be sliced open by the passing blade. The whoosh that the fillies were expecting to hear was replaced by a faint yet horrid screech, and a wave of energy swept forth from the blade, growing wider as it leveled the grass in its path. Foliage wilted and fell to the ground, dying as the wave passed over it. A great miasma of decay rose up from the ground as the entire field was rendered fallow within the space of a minute. The earth itself almost seemed to moan in despair.
As Death turned to regard his companions, each of them displayed a wide-eyed, slack-jawed countenance that, honestly, he wasn't expecting. The three were quickly released from their awestruck stupor by the sound of a door being loudly swung open. From some distance away, Applejack emerged from one of the storage sheds on the hill and began shaking her hoof angrily.
"Consarn it, Apple Bloom! Look whatcha gone an' done to the hayfield! I'm prob'ly gonna hafta replant the entire--"
"RUN!" Apple Bloom abruptly cut in, before she, the others, and Death all quickly trotted away in the direction they had came. Sweetie Belle carefully levitated the list from her mane and a pencil from behind her ear, marking off attempt number one.
Talent Test #4: Painting
Evidently, the residents of Ponyville had somehow become aware of the presence of Death in their town, though whether it was because of a frightened unicorn named Vinyl Scratch or words from another horse's mouth, nopony could be sure. So it seemed that even as the Crusaders attempted to skirt the residential limits with their grim guest, any ponies nearby turned and ran upon catching a glimpse of a frazzled purple mane or a marshmallow-like hoof. Nonetheless, the three fillies that accompanied the specter eventually found themselves at the local art studio, which likewise had been vacated by ponies; the only exception was Treehugger, who, being generally unfazed by most things, welcomed them in without batting an eyelash.
The girls had set up Death with an easel, a canvas, and a selection of paints and brushes. He thoughtfully levitated a line brush and inspected it, observing the bristles and the delicate wooden handle.
"I've never tried my hoof at the arts before." He commented. "Of course, I suppose I've never really had much reason or inspiration to do so." He was still hopeful of finding something new to occupy his eternity, though he was beginning to wonder if pulling oneself away from the call of their Cutie Mark was as easy as it had seemed.
"You just gotta try what feels natural! Let your heart guide the brush!" Scootaloo said with an artistic gesture of her hoof. "Sometimes I just smear paint all over the thing until I've made a mess I'm happy with! It doesn't have to make sense!"
"I think that's also why Miss Cheerilee made you stay after class, Scootaloo." Apple Bloom added. "You had trouble staying on the canvas."
"Anyway," Sweetie Belle spoke up "the girls and I are going to sit over there and do our own paintings. Then we can all share our artwork together!"
"But I don't know what I should paint." Death replied.
Sweetie tilted her head. "It's like Scootaloo said. It doesn't necessarily have to be anything. You could just paint how you feel, if you want. As long as there's paint on the canvas in a way that means something to you, it's a painting!"
As the fillies sat down to create their own works of art, Death put a hoof to his chin and pondered what his canvas might become. He eventually decided that painting his emotions might not be a bad idea. After all, he'd been through plenty of them in the past day alone. Putting brush to canvas might help in processing them. Carefully, he lifted a larger brush, dipped it into his favorite color, black, and began slathering the blank slate.
Some time later, the four of them had added the finishing touches and were ready to show their work.
"Alright!" said Sweetie Belle. "Check this out! I made a little Nightmare Night scene! There's the moon, a bunch of ghosts, and us and Death with lots of candy!" Turning her canvas to face the others, there was indeed a not-subpar rendition of three little fillies in reaper cloaks with buckets full of sweets, accompanied by the reaper and a gaggle of galloping ghosts under a full moon.
"Me next!" called Scootaloo, turning her canvas about. "I did a skyscape with me and Rainbow Dash making a Sonic Rainboom!" Indeed, upon the canvas there were two rudimentary ponies surrounded by clouds, blue sky, and a flurry of explosive rainbows blasting out from around them. If Death had wished to use a modern colloquialism, which he didn't, he would have said it was "freakin' rad." But instead, he simply gave a slow nod of approval.
"What did you paint, Apple Bloom?" Sweetie asked. The yellow filly smiled and rolled her eyes.
"About what you'd think." She replied, turning her canvas. It was a bright, shiny, red apple, exquisitely detailed, and taking up most of the canvas. The other two girls laughed, but commended her effort and her improvement from the last time they'd painted together.
"Alright Bonesy, what'd you paint?" The country bumpkin drawled out with a smile.
"I'm not sure this is ready to be seen by mortal eyes..." Death replied. "I drew upon my inner turmoil to create this. I... don't want to risk your safety."
Sweetie Belle mimicked her sister's pbbt accompanied by a dismissive wave of the hoof.
"It's okay, Mr. Death." she said. "Everypony is unsure of sharing their art at first. But what better way to overcome those nerves than by showing your three closest friends first?"
Death raised the brow he didn't possess. He wasn't quite sure he'd call them friends yet, but at the very least, he had grown accustomed to them. He supposed that if sharing his artwork was part of the exercise, then so be it. After all, he came to them to ask for help.
"Very well..." he said slowly. "Tell me what you think."
Upon turning his canvas around, the three fillies' eager faces suddenly became blank slates. Their jaws slacked open and their eyes went even wider than normal, filled with the popping and jumping lines of interdimensional static, the faint sound of which escaped their gaping mouths. Sweetie Belle even toppled sideways off of her stool, stiff as a statue.
For the first time in his entire vast memory of his own existence, Death let out a quick, high-pitched shriek of panic.
He dropped his canvas face down on the floor, concealing its eldritch image from further viewing. He quickly rushed over and put Sweetie Belle upright, back on her seat in roughly the position she'd been in. After rushing to check on Scootaloo and Apple Bloom, all the while muttering panicked no's to himself, he retrieved his scythe from the corner of the room. After using its blade to draw a rough approximation of a magic circle around the group, he hurriedly recited an incantation before striking the ground with his scythe. A column of mystic light shot upwards to the sky, visible even from outside the building, and when it faded, the Crusaders were their normal selves again, albeit with headaches and lacking memories from the past few seconds.
Treehugger, having witnessed all this from across the room, let out a mildly interested huh.
"Ugh... what happened?" asked Sweetie Belle, rubbing her noggin.
Scootaloo massaged her temples. "I think I'm gonna be sick."
"I think we were showing off our paintin's..." Apple Bloom said, a bit woozy. "Death, were you gonna show us your paintin'?"
"Nope." Death said firmly, using his scythe to banish the painting from their current plane of existence. "What's next on the list?"
Talent Test #7: Baking
After taking a brief rest and testing some other talents to no avail, the four made their way to Sugarcube Corner, Ponyville's famous bakery. After explaining their intentions to Pinkie Pie, she gladly let them into the kitchen and began laying out a multitude of ingredients to be used in the making of cupcakes.
"Making cupcakes is super-duper simple, Mr. Reaper! You just take some basically basic stuff, toss it all together, bake it, and you've got a deliciously yummy sweet treat that everypony enjoys!" Pinkie said as she cheerfully pronked about. Death regarded the Crusaders with suspicion as they set up an array of baking implements before him and bound him with an apron and chef's hat.
"Something tells me this won't end like you expect." he said dryly. "I've never--"
"I know, you've never done this before." Sweetie Belle gently chided. "But you can't know if you're good at something if you don't try it. That's what the Cutie Mark Crusaders are all about!"
"A modus operandi that's as good as any, I suppose." Death replied. "But what need have I for baking? I don't eat."
"Is that because it goes right through you?" Pinkie chimed in with a childish smile.
"Maybe you can make something that other ponies will like?" Scootaloo posited. "Food can be a great way to make friends! I can still remember the first time Sweetie, Apple Bloom and I ate together, right here at Sugarcube Corner!"
"Alright, ponies!" Pinkie emerged from behind the opposite side of the counter. "Making cupcakes is really a piece of cake! Just follow my instructions and you'll have something scrumptious in no time!"
And so, Death and his diminutive helpers followed the pink pony's guidance, mixing together various quantities of milk, sugar, butter, flour, and other ingredients into a thick batter. For flavoring, Pinkie opted to create chocolate fudge cupcakes with diced walnuts mixed in, which she would top with sugary pink frosting; the Crusaders, meanwhile, couldn't decide what kind they wanted to make, so they allowed Death to choose, resulting in manna-flavored cupcakes which would be topped with pomegranate seeds and an ash-grey frosting.
Whereas Pinkie chose to bake her cupcakes using the oven's usual settings for about 20 minutes, Death placed his cupcake sheet into another dimension (which, to his credit, he accessed via the oven) which required the mortals present to don eye protection. After letting them bake for about 30 seconds, during which time the oven shook violently and roaring could be heard from within, Death extracted the cupcakes and placed them on the table; their texture and coloration somewhat resembled scorched earth.
After both parties had completed the final steps of decoration, they arranged a taste test with some blind participants, after, of course, Death assured everypony that the ingredients he'd introduced were not lethal. He and the Crusaders observed curiously from the kitchen as Pinkie passed out the treats in the lobby, telling the customers it was a new recipe she was experimenting with. Several ponies curiously inspected the only-slightly-charred cupcakes before biting into them. A variety of reactions were elicited, some partially positive, most negative.
"It's a good flavor..." said one "...very mild. But it doesn't feel right in my mouth."
"I suppose that's because manna isn't really an ideal mortal food." Death pondered, listening from the doorframe. "It fills the stomach, but nourishes the spirit more."
"What's manna?" asked Apple Bloom.
"Pure spiritual energy that is fed to souls in the afterlife." Death replied. "Using magic, it can be made manifest in the physical world, but it's really just filler in that sense. But, since one is usually starving when they summon it, it also helps to inspire them to keep going."
Another pony coughed and spat out their cupcake in the lobby. "Ugh, what? No offense, Pinkie, but I don't think this one is a keeper."
Death turned, half frustrated and half demoralized. Next to him, the three fillies were each trying his cupcakes, with varying degrees of confusion and scrunched-up little noses.
"I don't think it's that bad." Sweetie said. "I like pomegranate, and the seeds give it a nice crunch. It's just that the rest of it... needs work." She gave a small burp from deep in her chest, followed by a polite request to be excused.
"They ain't really baked goods, but they ain't baked bads neither." Apple Bloom added, wiping icing from her mouth. "They're more like... baked mehs."
"Why don't you try one, Grimmy? You made them, after all." Scootaloo held up one of the baked mehs with a smile.
Suppressing his immense desire never to be called "Grimmy" again, Death took the cupcake from her, opened his jaw for the first time she could remember him doing so, and made the treat disappear into his cloak.
"So? What'dya think?" asked Apple Bloom.
"I don't have a tongue, I can't taste."
Later that day, as the sun was beginning its trek toward the horizon, the CMC and Death were exhaustedly walking back to their treehouse, pulling a busted up little red wagon behind them. Scootaloo buzzed along on her scooter.
"I told you number 12 wouldn't work." Death remarked.
"At least we didn't end up covered in tree sap." Apple Bloom quipped.
"Maybe you didn't." The reaper replied.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Death." Sweetie Belle said, a downtrodden note in her voice. "I thought something on our list would surely have worked for you today."
"Guess you're a bit too tall for our brand of daredevilry." Scootaloo chimed in.
"I've never seen a wagon do that before." Apple Bloom added.
"Look," Death said "I truly appreciate the effort you three have gone through to help me find fulfillment once more, but I fear that I may simply be a lost cause." The group of four arrived at the treehouse, and Death rested himself upon the ground with a clatter of bones.
"My art makes ponies' minds break. It's hard to play soccer when a fast-moving ball can dislocate your parts. Candle-making went great, but purple fire and the scent of decay makes ponies uncomfortable. The only birdhouses I can make look like coffins, and as we've just learned, putting me in a wagon attached to an out-of-control scooter results in the two of us careening into a market stall full of oranges."
"Not oranges." Scootaloo corrected. "Tangelos."
"Whatever." Death replied. "The point is, I'm not sure that I'm doing anything more than wasting your time."
"I s'pose he could literally give us more time to make up for it." Apple Bloom whispered to Sweetie Belle.
"Please, Mr. Death." Sweetie pleaded, stepping forward to grab his cloak. "Don't give up on us yet. We will find something you're good at. We've actually got one more thing on the list..."
"And what would that be?" Death inquired as the filly retrieved her paper.
"Ever hear of a game called limbo?"
Scootaloo carefully maneuvered herself underneath the bar, balancing carefully on her hind legs and buzzing her little wings for support, careful not to turn her head or let any part of her body touch the bar. Upon reaching the other side, she flipped herself around with a smile.
"And that's how it's played!" Sweetie Belle said with a flourish of her hoof.
"That's ridiculous." Death scoffed. "Why on earth would I attempt something so pointless? It's not a game, it's barely an obstacle course."
"C'moooooon!" Scootaloo begged. "It's fun! Watch, Apple Bloom can go lower than any of us!"
Scoots and Sweetie each took an end of the bamboo pole in their teeth and lowered it by three notches on its rack. Apple Bloom rubbed her forehooves together in eagerness, before straining underneath the tight constraint on her hind legs, barely managing, but succeeding, to get through without touching the bar. On the other side, she did a cartwheel in celebration and struck a victory pose as the girls cheered.
"Let's see you do better than that!" she taunted.
Death rolled his eyes. "Allow me."
In his aura, he lowered the bar to its bottommost rung. Stepping back, he turned himself into the black cloud via which he had traveled to Ponyville earlier that day and slipped beneath, not a single wisp casting itself upon the pole. Reforming on the other side, his featureless face almost seemed to be smirking. Apple Bloom pouted.
"That's cheatin'." she muttered.
"Did you like it?" asked Sweetie Belle eagerly.
Death tilted his head. "It was a brief repast from the stresses of the day."
"That's exactly what games are!" she said. "...I think!"
"Ultimately though," he continued "I do not see it worthy of a continued investment of my time."
"I do suppose you're already as good as somepony could get..." said Scootaloo, looking at the ground.
Suddenly, from off in the distance, a voice could be heard calling.
"Sweetie Belle!" It was Rarity. "It's time for dinner! That's enough 'crusading' for today!"
"Just a minute!" the filly called back. "I guess we'll have to try this again after school tomorrow, girls."
Suddenly, Apple Bloom's eyes popped open wide.
"SCHOOL!" she cried. "Girls, we completely forgot our science project for Miss Cheerilee's class!" The other fillies leapt into a panic along with her.
"Oh no!" Sweetie Belle said, grabbing her head in her hooves. "If we get a bad grade on this one, our sisters will probably ground us!"
"And then we won't be able to help Death with his Cutie Mark problem!" added Scootaloo. "What are we gonna do?!"
"I can't believe we forgot all about the project!" continued Sweetie Belle. "How are we gonna whip up a last-minute presentation for a science class?!"
There was a brief moment of silence before the fillies' heads raised from their panicked state.
They looked at each other.
They looked at Death.
Death's eyes flicked between them.
"What have I gotten myself into?" he thought.
You wouldn't believe how hard it was to think of talents that could be fouled up in this situation... or at least, ones without the potential for juvenile dismemberment. 
Decided I'd bring this one back from the dead for Spooktober's sake. Please keep the comment section a happy place, guys.
(For instance, you could see how many references to other media you spot in this chapter!) 
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Discord: I did warn him even I don't want to get involve with those three.
Fluttershy: Discord, that's not nice. They are much better than before.
Discord: And what was the last time they helped you with the animals around the house?
Fluttershy: That is not the point. And Angel, you don't have to agree with him.
Well, this was refreshing and amusing. And I'm honestly terrified of how they're going to involve Death in a science project.
"What have I gotten myself into?" he thought.
yes indeed xD
FOOL! Madness lays that way.
Don't ask.....
Call it morbid curiosity, but I would LOVE to see what Death painted. Or at least, an approximation of it that is safe for mortal eyes.
Yay! An undated! This is actually one of the few fics I have in my tracking folder, I don’t know what is it about it, but this fic is has being really interesting for me, anyway, see you around a year when the next update drops
I eagerly await the chaos
10501304
I kinda want to see it too
It seems that some people want what they can’t have
10602116
i would like to see too even if i died