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Swift Reaper's Home for Lost Souls (Absolutely open, hop right in)


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In a back alley leading to a graveyard, a curious shop lies in what was once an abandoned building, in Manehattan. The hours of the place are 10:00PM to 3:00AM, strangely enough. Through the windows one might glimpse solid silver walls, with solid silver shevles stuffed to the brim with solid silver bottles. Yeah, there was a lot of silver A unicorn with a grey coat, black hair, and a ghost cutie mark is obviously the caretaker of the shop, and he always seems to be talking to nobody. People will often enter the shop, and come out a happier person, though the cost isn't cheap. At this shop, Swift Reaper, the caretaker, provides homes for lost souls, and acts as a translator between worlds, for the cheap cost of 5 bits per minute of translation. When he takes the money, he seems to cause it to teleport to somewhere unknown. Swift Reaper is a somewhat dark and shy pony, though he is kind and gentle to those who befriend him, and very outgoing to the dead.

Welcome to Swift Reaper's Home for Lost Souls.

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"Yes, it is! What is the name of the spirit you would like to contact?" He smiled, pulling out a directory book, about 1 foot thick, two feet tall, 1.5 feet wide. The thing looked like a brick, and there were 25 others behind the counter. None of them had any distinguishing marks anywhere on them.

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"King Sombra?" He asked, not surprised at all. He flipped through the entire book and grabbed another off a shelf. "My prized soul, indeed. Completely empty bottle, I keep it locked up tight. Bottom floor, right this way."

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"I'm Swift Reaper, as the name of the shop implies. As for your question, yes I do! How do you think I have the money to purchase all of this silver?" He laughed, walking down the 15th flight of stairs. "We're halfway there." There was a room just like the last for every flight of stairs. It was quite impressive.

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"It keeps the souls from passing on. They can't pass through silver. Oh, we're here!" he said as they reched the 27th floor down, which was completely empty, the walls lined with silver on all sides, an airlock of sorts made of silver leading in. Swift reaper pulled a large bottle from the spirit realm and said, "Because of this dangerous spirit, I will require 10 bits per minute of translation. 20 bits if you want to speak directly with him."

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  • 3 weeks later...

Fright Night was beginning the walk home from her job tending to the graveyard. The orange unicorn paused in front of the silvery shop and grinned, as a lot of her friends lived there now. A few still lingered in the graveyard, though, so Fright was never too lonely. She hadn't talked to the stallion who ran the shop in a while, so she decided to drop in for a visit. "Hello...?" she said in her usual far-away tone as she entered the shop. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything..."

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