Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27461238-20151012234458/@comment-3991308-20151020080723

"Mixing things up, say?" Death arched an eyebrow. He lowered and quitened his voice. "If it's not too much to ask, how are you going to mix things up? I mean, it is common amongst guardians to not let our children suffer, but getting that past the authorities is a different matter."

"Rebel," the Reaper considered the word. "Honestly? Not a bad idea... not a bad idea at all. I myself am sick of getting mocked by my colleagues for 'perishing physicians and dying doctors'. I'm sure they don't mean too ill but..." He sighed. "Surely you must understand how painful it is, raising your children with blood and tears, building from rock bottom to the highest canopies, only to watch your hard work, your dedication flicker dead like a snuffed candle, and have that snuffing out done by yourself, no less?"

Airmid was speechless. Literally. The guy's statement was so random... and unexpected... and out of the blue, that she was just lost for words.

"Uhhhhh," she said. "Ummhhhh." She nervously tugged at the cuff of her sleeve, unsure how to respond. The physician pushed her seat back, reeling from the knife point. "I... hyperbole." Oh, that was all she could get out? The broken sentence she had been trying to construct in her mind made a lot more sense than the one she let out (and without a proper verb, too!)

Airmid quickly caught herself mid-ramble. "Oh! Sorry." A rather sheepish grin came over her face. What was the polite thing to do in this moment? What did decorum typically state? An introduction, right? "Valerian. That's my name. Remember it, and please don't test out what I just said on me."