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Description

Some Death Apprentice things I been doodling over the New Years, clothing inspired by fashion catalogs. HAPPY NEW YEARS YOU GUYS BTW! OvO Quick upload and I have to run again. Daylight never lasts in the winter time. ;v;

Death's HQ is surrounded by endless fields of chrysanthemums. You carry a chrysanthemum with you when you go down to the living world to do your reap orders. When you want to go back to the HQ, you puck out the petals until you are left with only the stem. You throw the stem and a portal will appear. Enter it and you will arrive in the outside of the Death HQ flower fields, where that Chrysanthemum was picked.

These stories kinda just appeared when I was drawing them. I think is probs a good example of what kind of weapons the reapers have to cut threads with.

Alice lived in Great Britain, 1780s.

She worked in a textile factory at the start of the Industrial Revolution. Her hands were bound to the oversize fabric shears she used to cut bolts of cotton with. She worked and worked, day in and out, and there were times in which her hands were completely numb. She felt like she used the shears more than her naked hands themselves. So when she died, she barely realized that she had taken the shears with her.

Yejide lived in West Africa, 200 BC.

She was a huntress unlike any her village had ever saw. Her skill made her prideful and haughty and that made her many enemies. It was said that she was born with a spear in her hands and in the same fashion, she died with a spear in her hands. It would only make sense that she would go into the afterlife holding the same spear.

James lived in the United States, 1980s.

He was born with a weak heart and the ghost of death had always hovered over him. It's not like it frighten him any less though.

In a brief state of consciousness, he remember closed his eyes while laying on a ice cold operating table with a peering face of a doctor over his own and then suddenly he awoke with a start in the middle of a chrysanthemum field. He was clutching his chest, panting hard and then discovered that in his hand was a small steel scalpel, medical grade.

Xiu Ying lived in China, 1st century.
Her small village was raided by bandits at night. She was desperately trying to find her father and found him lying there in the din of the fire, smoke and blood.
Frantically, she tried to pull the sword out of her father's chest, hoping to save him. Suddenly- she felt a sharp pain from her back to the front of her chest and slumped forward, falling into the ground, her hands clinging desperately to the hilt of the sword.

When she woke up in the chrysanthemum fields, she found that she was still holding that sword. For a moment, she thought that she freed it from his father's chest. It turned out that was not the case.

Dmitry lived in Russia, 1930s, in the midst of WWI.

As he laid dying in the battlefield, images flashed before his eyes in quick succession. Ones of his friends, his wife, his daughter. But the one that lingered was one of his father and it was an image of him in his wheat fields, miles and miles away, a scythe in hand as he rhythmically reaped his crop. This was his biggest regret. His pride had kept him away, even from his own father's funeral. If only he stayed, he would be holding a scythe in his hands instead of a gun.

When he woke up he was indeed holding tightly to his father's old, worn scythe. For a moment, he thought he was home, that the war had only been a horrible dream. But instead of an endless field of wheat, he only saw countless chrysanthemums.

Description

Some Death Apprentice things I been doodling over the New Years, clothing inspired by fashion catalogs. HAPPY NEW YEARS YOU GUYS BTW! OvO Quick upload and I have to run again. Daylight never lasts in the winter time. ;v;

Death's HQ is surrounded by endless fields of chrysanthemums. You carry a chrysanthemum with you when you go down to the living world to do your reap orders. When you want to go back to the HQ, you puck out the petals until you are left with only the stem. You throw the stem and a portal will appear. Enter it and you will arrive in the outside of the Death HQ flower fields, where that Chrysanthemum was picked.

These stories kinda just appeared when I was drawing them. I think is probs a good example of what kind of weapons the reapers have to cut threads with.

Alice lived in Great Britain, 1780s.

She worked in a textile factory at the start of the Industrial Revolution. Her hands were bound to the oversize fabric shears she used to cut bolts of cotton with. She worked and worked, day in and out, and there were times in which her hands were completely numb. She felt like she used the shears more than her naked hands themselves. So when she died, she barely realized that she had taken the shears with her.

Yejide lived in West Africa, 200 BC.

She was a huntress unlike any her village had ever saw. Her skill made her prideful and haughty and that made her many enemies. It was said that she was born with a spear in her hands and in the same fashion, she died with a spear in her hands. It would only make sense that she would go into the afterlife holding the same spear.

James lived in the United States, 1980s.

He was born with a weak heart and the ghost of death had always hovered over him. It's not like it frighten him any less though.

In a brief state of consciousness, he remember closed his eyes while laying on a ice cold operating table with a peering face of a doctor over his own and then suddenly he awoke with a start in the middle of a chrysanthemum field. He was clutching his chest, panting hard and then discovered that in his hand was a small steel scalpel, medical grade.

Xiu Ying lived in China, 1st century.
Her small village was raided by bandits at night. She was desperately trying to find her father and found him lying there in the din of the fire, smoke and blood.
Frantically, she tried to pull the sword out of her father's chest, hoping to save him. Suddenly- she felt a sharp pain from her back to the front of her chest and slumped forward, falling into the ground, her hands clinging desperately to the hilt of the sword.

When she woke up in the chrysanthemum fields, she found that she was still holding that sword. For a moment, she thought that she freed it from his father's chest. It turned out that was not the case.

Dmitry lived in Russia, 1930s, in the midst of WWI.

As he laid dying in the battlefield, images flashed before his eyes in quick succession. Ones of his friends, his wife, his daughter. But the one that lingered was one of his father and it was an image of him in his wheat fields, miles and miles away, a scythe in hand as he rhythmically reaped his crop. This was his biggest regret. His pride had kept him away, even from his own father's funeral. If only he stayed, he would be holding a scythe in his hands instead of a gun.

When he woke up he was indeed holding tightly to his father's old, worn scythe. For a moment, he thought he was home, that the war had only been a horrible dream. But instead of an endless field of wheat, he only saw countless chrysanthemums.