One week with working with the British Division and she knew exactly why William had said there had been employees who threw in kinks. Not only had she met Grell Sutcliff, but the creature had nearly confused her to no end. It was obvious that the red head was a male, but would get angry when Hecate first mentioned her as a man; at least until Hecate explained that she had just joined, it was then after she had calmed that Hecate was told that Grell preferred to be mentioned in female text. There were of course other people who liked to throw in kinks, which Hecate had repaired some of them, she eventually got use to it. Lifting a hand to brush back ebony locks, Hecate looked up to note that Grell was once again going off about William, a small jaw twitch and she looked back down. Hecate would never dare admit it, but Grell looked so much like Damien that at times it hurt to look at the shinigami.
This of course didn't deter their relationship, Hecate and Grell had become something of friends, after the whole scandal of Grell's gender, Hecate had mentioned that her crimson hair was quite beautiful. It seemed to have sealed the deal, Grell would often come over just to talk, and possibly even try to tease the woman. Hecate would simply turn a light pink and change the subject, an ache in her heart that she had forgotten had become a familiar pain. After stacking the papers neatly, Hecate felt arms wrap around her stomach, and her ears began to work once again; she had done well to block most of Grell's talks out. "I'm so bored~" Green-yellow eyes glanced to Grell's desk, a pile of papers beginning to stack up. "You could finish your work, Grell." A pout formed on her face, "You're so cruel! My delicate hands can't take that much work." A snort left Hecate, "My hands are just as delicate as your Grell, come on now, I need to get this stack down to General Affairs before William crawls up my ass."
Hecate had made it a challenge not to have William on her back, after he figured out her scandal back in Italy; she had tried to show that despite this, her work was still going to be top notch. Grell gave a tsk, "Darling, you really need to take a break." Maybe Grell was right, Undertaker's offer popped into her head, maybe she should visit him again? It had been about a week, take or give a few days. "Probably, but that still won't help your slacking~" It was a tease, and even Grell recognized it as such, a shark tooth grin and Hecate was released. "You know, people say that you're a lot like Will, but I think that's only in appearance~" Hecate rolled her eyes, "And probably work wise too~" A scoff, "I hardly doubt that Mr. Spears and I are alike." Hecate had grown to stand by that, and with time she was sure they would realize a stark difference between them. Laying a kiss on either side of Grell's face, as it was returned all the same, Hecate took the stack of papers and started down to General Affairs.
After about five minutes of doing nothing but handing out paperwork to whom they belonged too, Hecate was off once again to head back up to her desk. She was just beginning to pass the huge statue standing in the front of the Library, when she finally looked up to it. Hecate somehow felt she recognized that face, and knew quite well that it was Demitru, but she hadn't met him in her life. Staring at the aged stone, she tried to place with difficulty where she saw him, or someone like him, before. People passed by without a second glance, the look on Hecate's face proved she didn't want to be bothered right now.
Ever since Undertaker took her ribbon, she had left her hair down, the long locks had nearly begun to cover her butt, and Grell had said that the coconut oil mixed well with her own conditioner. Grell too, had long locks, and offered some of her rose conditioner as aid along with the oil. Brushing her bangs away with slight irritation, her mind kept reeling. "…Where have I seen you?" This was going to annoy her for the rest the night.
Another week, and sadly the new Reaper that came to his shop was the only thing to truly note. An eternity of embalming bodies and nothing ever seems new. Of course the manner of death was always an interesting story to hear. Apparently his most recent Guest had perished whilst shoeing his horse. The raucous cackles had to be held in, for it was a relatively new family. They hadn't been in London long enough to hear of the eccentric Mortician, and so he begrudgingly took the coin they offered. Pulling the last line of stitching through the young man's torso, the Undertaker felt his grin widen at the thought of the reaper named Hecate. She held herself to standard. That was obvious through the speed in which she got that nasty little job done. That reminded him…he needed to get back to William with the report, didn't he?
Chuckling heartily, he tied the thin line in a double knotted close before buttoning the shirt which the family had given for him to wear. Placing the used scalpels and needle into a tin of disinfectant, the Silver Mortician went to go wash his own hands. All the while, thinking on what precisely to tell the boy. Indeed, she may have shared a physical similarity to William, but otherwise from what was seen, she was certainly her own person. Oh yes, what she pulled, William wouldn't have done in a million years. Grin widening a few inches, he scratched his cheek with a wet nail, pondering how best to…return the favour. Yes, it was payment enough, and it would cover a bit more…simply because he wasn't truly expecting it.
Thinking back, he chuckled again. Perhaps he should return her ribbon. She did seem to have an attachment to it, as long hair truly was a pain in the ass to deal with. From what he has heard, William insisted on keeping her in the office until he gave a favourable report. Humming lightly, he pondered if he had any Cinematic Records to return. Ambling into his office, he glanced over his desk and found them. Now how long ago did he borrow the Hallcourt's records? Pursing his lips in thought, he placed the two books in his sleeve. Grabbing a sotoba, he opened the portal to the Library and stepped through.
It certainly wasn't often that he came. But when he did, it seemed that this was the reaction that he always got. Older reapers gave low bows, and the younger generation simply stared. Tipping his hat to those he passed, he reached the front doors of the Library with minimal interruption. Cracking a grin, it passed through his mind that William must have them all actually working. Pulling open the door, he stopped, and an almost cruel thought came to him.
There was the object of his reports and amusement. Staring at his statue, her posture seeming lost in thought. To him, it was perfect. Masking both his aura and the sound of his footsteps, he pulled out the black ribbon that had sat in his pocket for the past seven days. Coming to stand right behind her, he brought his arm over her shoulder, his nails holding the hair accessory in an almost teasing grip. Leaning forward and down so his lips rested just behind her ear, he spoke softly. "Oh, dear? You left this…~"
Why did he seem so familiar to her? Chewing on her tongue, she ran through all faces she had met within the past week, when suddenly a ribbon was shown in front of her face. Staring at it blankly, she realized who was behind her and felt a tiny grin cross her lips, "I already told you, you can ke-…" She turned around to face Undertaker; a sudden jolt ran through her brain, looking back at the statue, then Undertaker. She did this twice before staring at him, at first, it appeared that she was stunned; and then all the color drained from her features. Opening and closing her mouth, brain process seemed to stop. Then it occurred to her all at once.
'I…kissed…his cheek.' Whatever color had drained had come back in full force, even her ears turned a bright pink. Collapsing to her knees, she bowed her head to the floor, at first it appeared that she wanted to curl up and die, until she spoke. "I am so sorry, Lord Demitru, I stepped out of line way to many times. Please forgive me." Her face was still a burning crimson; she could feel it on her hands as they held her face off the ground, over lapping each other as they pressed against her forehead. She must've been a sight, because a few had stopped to actually stare, glancing at Undertaker before moving on. She hardly cared, this was possibly the most embarrassing moment of her entire life. Screw the Council and them calling her in for her fiancé's strange death, being bullied in school by a bunch of boys who pulled her hair and threw stuff; but one thing was for sure, she was going to kill William for not telling her this!
Upon her half-sentence, his grin widened. "Well yes…bu-...hm?" Well. Now he knew she could do an excellent imitation of a corpse in colour. It also seemed that she could act like a fish out of water as well. Grin widening to ear touching proportions, he waited patiently for her voice to find her again. He knew exactly why she was acting so bizarre, and he had to be honest; it amused him to no end. All of a sudden all blood rushed back to her head, and his medically inclined nature had him sharply watching for any negative signs. So when she collapsed, he knelt swiftly as well.
"Hecate…" He was unable to get out a question of concern before she threw herself forward, and landed halfway on his knee. "…" He was torn between laughing hysterically, and slapping her upside the head. "…Eu sunt Domnul, nu mai sunt." The intonation held was a mix of extreme amusement, and slight exasperation. Reaching with his right index nail, he lifted her chin, and stared her in the eye. Well…his fringe got in the way of a clear view, but a sliver of dual-toned green could be glimpsed between shifting strands; the inside a dark forest shade, the outside only several shades lighter. "Out of line? M'dear, there are only a handful of lines I have drawn, and you approached none of them."
Feeling the heat in her face, he slid his finger to check her pulse. It raced, and he smiled gently before making a flirtatious joke. "Oh my…I don't think that I could find a rabbit that could outpace you~" If she continued to nearly worship him, it didn't matter that she was a woman, a swift yet gentle knock to the back of her head with sotoba would commence. "Now dear, come with me. I have several records to return, as well as report to William."
Her heart was hammering, and with her suddenly on his knee, she couldn't figure out what to do. Stuck between freaking out even worse and having a heart attack, the woman was nearly a statue. As his finger guided her to face him, her breath caught in her throat, here she was bowing to her…idol, nearly three inches from his face. She could actually see a bit of his own eyes, though through the lenses of the more bulky glasses it was harder to tell; Hecate knew that he had no gold, and that…..well, that was about it. Her own breath had caught into her throat, especially as his finger trailed down her throat to check her own pulse, the vein he had touched thumped even more harshly against his finger.
"I..ahn..uh.." Yeah, she wasn't going to be able to talk anytime soon, and she faltered all the more when he said yet another flirt toward her, though it was impossible for her to turn anymore red, so she simply tried to speak with no words. Eventually snapping her mouth shut, she nodded numbly and shakingly got to her feet. Finally, after managing to gather a few brain cells that hadn't imploded, fury entered her eyes. "I'm going to murder that man for not telling me." It was obvious that she said that out of embarrassment, more than anger, but her head still appeared as if it were about to explode. Lifting her hand to touch where his fingers had dragged, she found that goose bumps had risen across her neck and down every limb. This man had a bit more control over her body than she'd like…but wasn't surprised. Shyly lifting her gaze to Demitru, she had to keep from crumbling to the floor in a nearly dead heap of embarrassment. It only dug in deeper when he said she hadn't stepped out of line, and her brain had trailed to something that made her want to use a hammer to her temples. 'So he actually liked it then?'
Shifting to the side so he could continue on, Hecate bowed at a thirty degree angle, adjusting her glasses after she stood back up. "A-And…you are still a Lord…at least to me…and my people." The last part was said a bit more quickly, as if to cover her tracks. "A-After you."
It couldn't be helped. As she began to stutter, his grin widened even further at her expense. Yes, he generally disliked being fawned over or worshiped. However, it had been a while since the last time he had gotten a full out collapse out of someone. It was also how she originally handled herself that made this event damn near hilarious. Standing as she did, he stayed beside her in case her frame decided to crumble. He couldn't help but notice one particular detail. "Forgive the seemingly random observation, but I can't help but notice those aren't the spectacles you wore when you came to my shop."
Upon her loud and furious outburst, his grin widened considerably and a low chortle left him. Such a sight would prove an immense form of entertainment, yet he couldn't help the feeling that it would do her more harm than good. "While it would be interesting to see you try, not only have I trained the boy myself, but more than likely you will find yourself under a mound of paperwork that would keep you in the office for months~"
Turning to make his way to Record Keeping and Storage, the Undertaker kept his eyes on Hecate. At her bow, his visage took on a slight frown, and turning to fully face her, he loosely folded his arms. "Hecate…I am no longer employed by this Library, nor am I on the roll of any other. I hold no rank, and it is only the stories of my career that causes such reverence in you. I will say this once, you are approaching one of the few lines that makes me a sour individual. I am your equal. Do not treat me otherwise." His tone had lost all mirth, and took on a very serious note. It almost held a chill, but it was more along the lines of a brush of cold air. "Even if my previous accomplishments make me a legend, I hate the structure of Nobility. Do not treat me as such."
Having begun to make his way down the hall, he stopped and turned his head back. "Walk with me. Not behind. Not only does it insinuate rank that doesn't exist…" A large grin slithered onto his lips. "…It also makes me feel as if someone is staring at places they shouldn't~ Ehihi!"
Trying not to chew her tongue off, Hecate adjusted the glasses again and cleared her throat, talking in a small voice. "Y-Yes… they were….my fiancé's." No one had known what had happened to Damien, Hecate's betrothed, but from her wearing his glasses, they assumed he had either quit or died. She wore them at all times within the walls of the Library, switching them out with her specially made glasses going out onto the field. There were hardly any mistakes on her paper work, and she could see well enough in them as is. Though the bulky frames did make her appear as if she were a child, or the classical "nerd".
Even Hecate knew that was true, trying to kill the Division head would not only put a pile of paper work on her desk, but cause more trouble than it's worth. It was a harmless joke, no matter how cruel. She continuously reminded herself of that with a solemn nod, taking Demitru's advice once again. Then he seemingly got onto her about how she was treating him, looking up bewildered, she lifted her hands in a small defense. "I-I'm sorry, while I'll try to contain myself, I-I was born nearly six hundred years ago; you know how it was back then." Her eyes dropped to the floor, her hands falling to her sides. "I-I'll do my best." She definitely didn't want to jump on his bad side that would cause only more trouble for her.
As she began to follow behind him, she was beginning to beat herself over the head when he turned around to insinuate something that made her turn a scarlet once more. "I-I…n-never! I-I'd never do that." She was immediately by his side, fiddling her thumbs in front of her while keeping her eyes on the floor. Hecate actually didn't know what to do, for every situation planned for; this wasn't something that ever came to mind!
"You were to be wed?" They did certainly look like a more masculine frame, as they were a bit big on her face. Looking to her as they walked, he cautiously delved deeper. "Might I ask what happened?" Several reapers stared at them as they passed. All the Undertaker had to do was frown their direction, and they scuttled away quickly. He had noticed her small tone, but said nothing, because she was obviously trying; and he actually found it cute.
Nodding at her explanation for why she behaved the way she did, he hummed with a grin. "Ah. The Dark Ages, one of my favourites if I am to be honest. If I recall correctly, I once had to bury at least three-hundred bodies in one day." One of Vlad Tepes' many 'Bloody Forest' dinners that were held to scare his advisors into line. And one of the eras in which he actually had to put effort into hiding his race; as the magically inclined human population was much too perceptive.
Coming from his thought process at her almost overly enthusiastic denial, he fell into a fit of cackles that caused him to almost bend backwards. Pointing at her with the occasional giggle, his grin turned impish and he began to tease again. "Oh~? Am I not attractive to you? Or perhaps I am, and that is why thou dost protest so much~!" Another cackle, and he finally reached the counter to which he returned books when he didn't wish to enter the Cinematic Library.
The woman there was an elderly type, and grinned at Undertaker's giggles. "Sir…might I remind you to return records earlier?" Obviously having dealt with the eccentric mortician many times before, she simply clucked her tongue and took them. "I honestly don't know why you have to keep them so long. Also if I remember correctly, Mr. Spears was actually looking for the Hallcourts." Tipping his hat toward the kind woman, Undertaker grinned and hummed. "Ah miss, I don't watch them, I read them~" And he continued towards the East Offices, where those of Manager rank got to sit.
Several turned to nod, otherwise they continued working. William's office was at the end of the hall, and was pretty much a straight shot. However, it seemed that they wouldn't be getting there without any event. Grell once again was trying her best to sneak attack him from behind with a tackle hug. Spinning to catch her in one arm, he gave a rather impish grin and pressed his face close to her own. The teasing was harmless. It was simply done to make the rest of the wing uncomfortable. "Ah, my Red Lady of Death~ To what do I owe this visit?~" Letting her step back, he waited on what was sure to be an entertaining explanation.
"Do I ever need a reason to visit Mr. Death and Giggles~?" Black gloved hands brushed long crimson behind a black vested shoulder, her smirk screaming sexual innuendo and self-confidence. "I simply have come to ask~ Is my Hecate okay? You know word travels fast~" Glancing over the tips of her fingers as if she could examine her nails, the crimson reaper gave them both a sly look. "I hear the poor thing collapsed~ Now…what am I supposed to think?~" The end of her question was higher in pitch, and to Undertaker, obviously a tease.
However the shrillness of her voice seemed to summon one William T. Spears from his office, visage resting on an expression of slight irritation. "Grell…how many times must I implore you not to cause a racket. Unlike yourself, there are individuals that plan to get their work done." From the sound of it, this was at least the hundredth time this year. Rectangular frames landed on both Hecate and the Undertaker; the latter of whom was trying not to burst into shrill giggles. "Hehehe…William, leave the Red Lady be. I have come to give a report…a bit late, but you know how I work."
Grell at once attempted to latch herself to the stoic manager, but the effort was thwarted as his scythe was brought to his front to impede her progress. Adjusting his glasses, he gave Grell a passing look of exasperation before nodding to his Elder. "Of course…I hope the extra time has formulated actual details." A barely visible and scant lip quirk let the Undertaker know that his former student was actually teasing him. Grinning, he motioned for Hecate to follow into the office.
Hecate nodded, it was something she didn't divulge into often, but with his all too often question asked, she answered it the same way she told the council. There were parts her memory simply refused to show, and Hecate simply pushed it off as too horrendous, and left it alone. "As far as I can remember, he was working alongside of a demoness, and he died because of it." Her voice had suddenly lost its feeling, as if the subject had drained everything from her several times to many. Clearing her throat, she was glad for the shift in conversation; though gnawed at her cheek in embarrassment once more as he spoke of the Dark Ages, they were of course the more barbaric, which could also be told for her actions, but she did feel a bit more…special for being born in Demitru's favorite times.
"Three hundred?" A blink, who in the world could kill so many so f-…well her vampire idea wasn't too far off, was it? By his next sentence, she was stumbling over her words again, "I-ahn.." What could she say? Deciding on nothing, the reaper started walking a bit faster to hide her features from his vision. As they entered the Library, she took a glance around before nodding to the woman behind the counter. After they left, she had managed to keep her line of sight forward, slowly but surely calming herself even as people scurried away under Demitru's frown.
Then something happened that Hecate was actually glad for, Grell had suddenly appeared, and despite the flirting going on that gave a strange twist to Hecate's guts; she was glad to see the red-head reaper. Well, glad until she said that the word of Hecate's collapse traveled back to her colleagues. A gloved hand smacked over her eyes as she groaned audibly, she'd never hear the end of it, especially from Grell. What was most sad, as even at this point, Hecate wasn't the bit upset over being called Grell's, which would normally annoy her. Miraculously, William appeared and Grell tried to attach herself to him. When that failed, Hecate walked over and grabbed Grell's hand, the poor shorter girl was trembling.
"I hadn't had the slightest clue he was Demitru, William never told me." The words were muttered, and by the look she sent to Grell, details would be given later; though no one else seemed to notice it, there was a bit of panic in her gaze, though if one were to look closely they would see a twinge of pain. Unable to let the woman's hand go, Hecate followed the two men into William's office, though she had threatened to kill the man only minutes earlier, she couldn't even look up off the floor. This would be the first report given to William by Demitru, not only was she nervous, but almost dying on the inside to wonder what he would say about her? Surely he wouldn't say anything about that kiss? It was a simple flirt, and no more rumors about her needed to be spread about… Another tremor passed through her, and she gently squeezed Grell's hand, as if begging for some sort of support.
Grell was just about to try again, as William usually relented eventually. However, the trembling grip of Hecate gave her pause, and she turned to look the elder woman full on in the face. Grinning slightly, as to not alert the surrounding shinigami to the possible drama, the Red Reaper nodded. "While it may not give too much comfort, you just landed in the wrong place, at the wrong time." Grell knew full well that William's arrangement with the Legend was to send entertainment. Frowning, she recalled how callous the Manager was when he told her. Something about getting her out of his hair. Tsking, Grell excitedly followed Hecate into the office. Of which she normally had Hell of a time getting into.
Said Manager made his way behind his desk, and sat; looking expectantly to his Mentor. "...I should inquire as to why this took several weeks...but to do so would cause me more headaches than what the answer would be worth, I'm sure." Glancing to Hecate, he frowned slightly. What he did not need, was a breakdown. "...Ms. Morte. Please, have a seat." Also, he may have felt just a tad bit guilty for sending her to face her idol, without so much as a warning. Adjusting his glasses, he hoped that the older woman kept Grell beside her. The gender confused man was truly a nuisance, yet because of their shared past, William couldn't outright shove him out. He was one of the only individuals that William was willing to allow close. Clearing his throat, he shifted his gaze to once again rest on Undertaker.
Who seemed to be digging around his robes for something specific. "Ah..." Pulling out the small urn of cookies, he handed it to Hecate, remembering that she enjoyed them quite well. "Where should I start?" And here, a noticeable change that sent a tremor of admiration and desire through Grell occurred. Like the removal of a mask. "Whether or not you are aware, Miss Hecate has another pair of spectacles, which are those she uses on the field." Removing his hat, he set it on the corner of the desk and sat down himself, not waiting for an offer. This irritated William visibly, but the Undertaker simply quirked a lip and continued.
"I see no problem with her performance, in fact I see something that isn't truly around anymore." Tilting his head to the woman that was being discussed, he took a moment before continuing. "...It is because of the technological advances, that humanity's instincts have dulled to near non-existence." Pressing the tips of his fingers together, he waited for William to raise a brow before finishing his point. "Magic, William. How many individuals besides myself and Lawrence that you know of, have this ability?" Shifting his gaze to Hecate herself beneath his fringe, he elaborated. "Miss Hecate has the ability to procure barriers, and spiritual strings. And had I not listened, my hand would have a quaint little hole~" Seeing his student narrow his eyes, he held up his hand for silence. "...I threw a surgical blade into a mouse. She simply decided to give it back." And that was where he would pause, for the boy to digest, and possibly ask more questions. Or perhaps for Hecate to add in.
Anxiety and panic ran through her veins as she sat down, unable to let go of the red reapers hand in fear of having an attack, be that in luck of William or not was unknown to even the elder woman. She forced her trembling to stop under the gaze of both men, trying not to appear weaker than what she really was; but of course it was understandable to look like she was about to have a heart attack, the man who she idolized higher than anyone in the world was giving a report about her, to her superior officer. As if he knew she was thinking about him, he offered the urn filled with the cookies she found delicious back at his home...or what she assumed was his home. Blood once again found their way to her features, giving her porcelain skin a rather delicate dusting of pink, her free hand reaching out to take the urn with care, she certainly didn't want to end up breaking the urn or doing anything to upset the man that was more than likely giving her an oppurtunity to go back out to the feild. God only knew how she lasted this long, being cooped up as if she were a caged animal.
Looking between the two boys as the conversation went on, she noted how everyone continued to glance at her every now and again, so opted to look up to Grell to catch her reactions; Hecate only used magic out on the feild, if not to protect fellow shinigami than to protect the public. So naturally Grell had no idea about her extra abilities, and as they were indeed extremely rare in their race it wouldn't come to surprising if Grell threw a temper tantrum; for Hecate deemed it unimportant to let her newest friend in on that little detail of her life. Though thinking on it now, Hecate realized that she didn't deem it as such, but for the simple fact of how it got her treated back in Italy. The first time Hecate and her superior found out about her magic, kids immediately swarmed for their chance to look at the "Freak"; since this upsetted her so much, her teacher pulled her to the side and told her something that seemed to stick and pull her through school. 'Those who see something different, are simply scared of what is in front of their eyes.'
Since then, she put back the fact that she was magical to keep people from being afraid of her, but ended up making a new name for herself; 'The Widow' was common after her fiance's death, she was even called a killer for a rumor running around that -she- had done it. That of course never made the file, seeing as they were unable to prove it. Looking forward when Demitru finished with his report, she decided to add in a few more abilities within her ability. "I'm also able to use those same abilities within my scythe, the wrappings on it are not just for decoration, but are able to hold the cinematic record in place as Mr. Hoartiu has previously seen." She glanced to Demitru, picking another cookie from the urn before handing it back to him; she hadn't realized it until now but half the urn was gone from her stress eating. Releasing Grell's hand now that she was more relaxed, or possibly in hopes that Grell would tackle the stone face man in retaliation for her embarrassment; she placed both hands in her lap and closed her eyes in thought. "Though I have no idea why my previous officers did not place that in my file...unless you already know, Mr. Spears?" Removing the glasses from her face, she set them in her lap and produced the second pair from within her jacket.
Just as before, her true spectacles were much more feminine than her dead fiance's, the silver skull hanging from its' single wire as it swung back and forth before twisting in a circle. She lifted the extra pair for William and Grell to inspect more closely if they desired, "These are my fiance's, he is currently deceased; and this is the only thing left I have of him. If it is a problem that I wear them during paper work, please let me know, but I refuse to get rid of them." There was a finality in her voice, as if someone were going to challenge her otherwise, though it was highly unlikely. She doubted anyone would care anyways.
Grell looked pityingly down at Hecate. Running crimson painted nails through the very ends of the older woman's hair, she almost glared at William. So he knew that Hecate idolized Undertaker, and sent her to directly confront the man!? "Tch..." Not even bothering to ask if it was okay, the red-head reached over the sable-topped woman's shoulder, plucking a cookie from the urn before it got too empty. The mortician certainly knew how to bake, and Grell was curious as to where he learned.
Listening to the Legend give a report was oddly...inspiring, and she couldn't help but keep her eyes glued to his frame. Magic? Wait, what?! A small noise of indignity left her throat, and she tried to glare daggers at the side of Hecate's cranium. Though the larger frames caught her attention. "Eh? They're so bulkydarling, I always wondered why you bothered to wear something so..." Waving a hand, it seemed Grell couldn't find the right word. Either that, or said word she was thinking wasn't particularly polite.
William had a few choice words to speak, but he was silenced by his mentor's hand. Despite the Elder's explanation, the stiff-spined manager wouldn't budge. "...While magic wasn't at all mentioned in the report, I can't say that I am surprised." The date of her reported creation and registry was in the Dark Ages. Along with her given name, it went to say that it was...expected. "Also...to say that you had to listen to prevent injury tells me she 'returned' the blade with such speed and/or force to guarantee a human severe injury." It was clear that the entertainment sent was successful, as the old man was defending her. "This bothers me, as I had not informed her of your race. Specifically for this test and purpose." Looking to Hecate herself, he folded his hands in front of his face. "Also was there a purpose of my not enlightening you to who he was. Most likely, you would have not gone."
Sitting back in his chair, William once again addressed the Undertaker. "Also, while you have enlightened me to several points, I still have yet to hear detail...and while I'm sure you enjoy holding things in front of my nose, we aren't in class anymore, Sir."
The quip made the Undertaker grin wider, and after nodding and taking the urn; now nearly half-empty, he set it too upon the younger reaper's desk. "So my young William has some sort of humour after all? Of course it would be at another's expense...you seem to enjoy abusing the Red Lady." The first time he addressed Grell since they entered the office. His tone was disapproving, yet still it held a mirthful ring.
After a few moments, his mirth seemed to vanish, and his lips pulled into an expression of thoughtfulness. "You expect a step by step walkthrough of what transpired? Hm." Grell certainly was interested, as she was now standing between himself and Hecate. Chuckling lowly, he nodded. He would explain, if only for the Red One. "She is, as I'm sure you've found out, punctual. Early morning if I'm not mistaken. Like most reapers, she had her Death Scythe beside her...or over her shoulder, I should say." A more light-hearted cackle, and he poked at William.
"I nearly had the thought that Lawrence had somehow turned you into a female, and you came asking for help!" The thought obviously still held a large amount of humour, as he couldn't stop laughing for a handful of moments. Grell nearly had a conniption, and almost darted out of the room to find Father when it occurred to her that Undertaker said 'somehow'. Upon finally regaining his more serious nature, he waved towards the currently calmer Hecate. "As this thought caused me a large amount of humour, I couldn't sneak upon her as is my custom." He truly sounded disappointed by this fact, yet he continued. "Like you, she prefers to work first, and rest later. I had offered my standard of tea and biscuits. She accepted, yet indicated she was to finish her work first. Now..."
Here, he distinctly turned his head so he was obviously looking at Hecate. "...not even many reapers would walk into a body freezer of their own volition. Even William has trouble." At this the Manager grumbled and glared lightly. "So it goes to say that you have coloured me impressed, Miss. It is unsurprising that she was unable to sense myself approach, as she had already erected a barrier in what I assume expectation of what came next." Explaining the Cinematic attack, the Undertaker watched William for any signs of past trauma. Seeing only a twitch of the brow, he smiled. "She had lost her ribbon...which until this afternoon, I held in my possession. Afterwards, we had a light discussion over tea, and she left. Not much to it, William." No. No, he did not intend to reveal the kiss that took him off guard. The poor girl was traumatized enough.
She had figured that Grell would be a bit upset over the whole matter with her not telling about the magic, but it was kind of amusing to see that look of annoyance on her features. Then the attention turned immediately to her glasses, to which Hecate almost grinned, finishing the woman's sentence in a kinder way. "Ghastly?" The frames were then tucked into her jacket, to be forgotten for now. As William address his dislike for how she returned the blade, her gaze snapped back, defiant and quite pissed despite the nerves showing in her body language. A jaw twitched as he mentioned his reasoning for not revealing who Demitru was, to which a low and angry noise whispered past her lips. "Of course I wouldn't have gone.." Her cheeks tinted pink, a mumble barely audible slipped past.
"I'd at least look a bit prettier.." As for Demitru's comment on how she walked into the body freezer with no troubles, she was confused on what he meant until it suddenly occured to her. "Well..I'm not one for clausterphobia." If she was, it would make the job all the more difficult. Hitomi did enjoy her job, the feild is where she belonged, and there would be nothing to keep her from that job. Though one thing was for sure, she was immensely relieved that Demitru didn't reveal what happened before she left, that surely would've made her bash her own head in. Shifting her gaze back to William, she awaited the verdict, so to speak, on if she could actually go out into the feild again. She could've done so much worse during that trial, the scapel was something minor compared to what was recorded in her profile..and what wasn't. The nerves settled in once more, this time a bit higher than previous.
