I don't know whether the response to this story should encourage me because every review I'm gotten is so meaningful, or whether it should depress me because I've gotten so little reviews. Or if I'm just really tired and this is just me rambling because it's way past my bedtime. It's probably the third.

Seriously though, everything I've written lately has had like NO reaction hardly most everyone who's read it so far. (Why is my stuff so unpopular? D8)

Meh. Tired rant is tiring.

on a completely unrelated note, who is familiar with Skulduggery Pleasant? It's my FAVOURITE books series like EVER, I'm not kidding. I wanna write a fanfic but I feel too busy.


"Mister Knox."

She calls to him once through the throng of people, but to no avail; the workplace of those about to time out for the day (a shift is soon ending,) is much more chatty and stuffy and generally loud than usual, and the medium din, not to mention the blond's own preoccupation with flirting with his eyelash-batting coworkers, seems to make it difficult for him to hear anything not less than a three foot radius from him. Not quite wanting to get that close, the girl's brow creases, and she tries again.

This time, Ronald's name comes a little more forcefully. If half works. He makes a quick once around, having faintly heard the summon, but his eyes do not even do near to where she is standing and soon return to the girls before him.

With a full-blown frown, Eve wades carefully along milling workers trying to appear busy to get out of being roped into doing anything productive for the five minutes between them and freedom. If her partner is too distracted to get to work, she acknowledges, she best be the one to prompt him to do so. When she is close enough, she leans over, closer to the blond's ear, and before he can notice the action and assume it is the flirting advance of some other ingénue he is wooing, Eve says slowly, deliberately, and completely devoid of any spirit, mirth, or sign of life whatsoever, "Yo."

That gets his attention, and he whips his head around to glance at her. A smile renews itself on his face, replacing the brief confusion that had been there previously. "Miss Britford!" He greets warmly. "Or can I call you Evangeline outside of work? What can I do for you?"

It occurs to Eve that her senior had never really referred to her by name. "Eve is fine." She says stiffly, answering the first question. Then she answers the second one. "We need to work on your assignment."

"..." The blond-black haired reaper raises an inquiring eyebrow and says "Are you sure? We only got the assignment yesterday, and it's an easy case, just watching a group of humans to make sure no demons show up or nothing." His face quickly relaxes again and he leans a little deeper into the counter he is currently supporting himself on, waving a hand to reassure Eve (or not). "We've got plenty of time."

"Says the one constantly being late."

Ronald flinches slightly, as if Eve had given him a good knock on the head. "Yeah, well..."

Their conversation, and by extension the accused worker's defence, is interrupted by one of the other female reapers who had, up to this point, been very awkwardly standing by and watching. "Um, Ronnie..." One of them, a chocolate colored brunette with small oval glasses and an apparent attachment to the blond in question, asks, "Who is this girl?"

Upon realizing that she would not be able to relay the rest of her intended message without bystanders present in this situation, the corners of Eve's mouth twitch downwards momentarily and she turns to exclusively address her partner. "Can I talk to you about this in private?" Her accent becomes more pronounced; she is rather agitated.

Another eyebrow raise. "You can go ahead and talk, you know." He gestures to the rest of the small group, all comprised of females. "There's nothing you can say to me that you can't to the others, right? Unless..." Suddenly, his smile becomes a great deal more coy, and flirtatious. "It's not really about what you say it is...?"

Not amused at all, Eve's eye twitches and she decides to simply grab the boy by the arm and drag him out of the room, into the adjacent hallway. Ignoring his cries of "Ow! I was kidding, I'm sorry!" she pushes him out of sight and into another room, an empty one with only desks inside.

...

"You didn't need to do that-!" Ronald starts to chide the smaller, but apparently stronger trainee dragging him through the halls, but stops dead in his tracks as Eve pushes him in, and licks the door behind her. "Wait a minute, what are you doing?" His body seizes up in a moment of panic. Suddenly, he thinks, me may have been right earlier about the girl not wanting to talk about just work... Until the junior reaper takes out a folder that had escaped his notice until now and simply sets it on a table.

"Listen to what I say, because I'll only say this once." With hurried but still carefully precise movements, she opens the brown flap to uncover parchment written on with thin, slightly curled, slanting script. Her handwriting. Each hand gets to work spreading out the sheets so he can read them all, one by one. "Your assignment was a mere observation in the countryside, am I correct? To ensure that the reaping of multiple souls does not go astray."

"... Yes." The blond has absolutely no idea where Eve is going with this, or for that matter, where she got that information. "How did you-"

"You left the file open on your desk. I saw it." She cuts him off, speaking in a flat tone. Before he can voice any indignation, or maybe even use that fact as a way to have her join that group date he will going to in a few hours, (hey, a ladies' man has to be smooth in all kinds of situations) the reaper-in-training-in-question raises her hand and asks, "Please let me finish." So he does. "I took the liberty of investigating the scene in question and taking files from the Scotland Yard police headquarters in London-"

"Wait, 'taking' files from a police base? And here I thought you'd be a strict goody two shoes." Ronald laughs before he can stop himself. Some people are full of surprises.

Eve just shrugs. "It was necessary, given that the crime scene-to-be shows evidence of being the setting for past crimes. One could probably get the same information from Undertaker, but ah... I'm not the most proficient at fulfilling his requests."

Though briefly stumbling through words, as if trying to wade through a bunch of them to pick out what to say, the girl quickly recovers and keeps talking. "Anyways, according to the police files, quite recently there was an incident involving the same people that are mentioned in your case. They were arrested for human trafficking, but were soon after released; it isn't too hard to do for nobility these days. This is relevant because the owner of the estate you are to observe- belonging to one Aleister Chamber- was the leader of this group, and the particular event taking place during the investigation seems to be a secret midnight party and a continuation of what the group had been doing before they were previously interrupted. The social season is supposedly over, so no doubt that they simply want to finish what they had started."

Splayed out in front of him, Ronald watched piece of evidence one after the other make themselves known; a copy of a party invitation surreptitiously snatched off a desk with frivolous claims of magic and wonder that give no allusion to human trafficking, a perfect copy of a police report right down to the signature of one Lord Arthur Randell. The handwriting is not Eve's after all. "The manor itself has a hidden bottom floor that leads to a place with a stage, and several cages with drugged kidnap victims waiting for auction."

"All right, I hear you, but where are you going with this? And why go through all this trouble anyways?" For now, the impatient worker decides to give the girl the benefit of doubt, but he stretches too, slightly stiff from staying in place for too long. Or perhaps he is just itching to back into the crowd, where there are more people.

Eve takes out sketches-more copies, but this time of pictures- of some rather gruesome sights. For humans, at least. Naked bodies laying spread eagled on a large carved symbol, or prostate on a stone slab looking upwards to unseen sky. "People have disappeared near the dates of this man's parties before, only to occasionally reappear as victims as a failed summoning. For demons." The word 'demons', which, in Ronald's book, is synonymous with 'overtime', catches his attention and he strives to listen a bit more carefully. "Many victims are killed this way. I can't tell how many, but enough. This, combined with the desperation to survive many victims may be feeling," a finger taps on a list of names and dates, "And the fact that you were assigned this observation in the first place, by higher ups who may know things about this that we don't," another notions to a copy of- wait, that's his assignment! She recorded that too?! "Mean that there is a high probability that a demon will appear."

Eyes darting from one sheet of paper to another, mouth in the verge of hanging open, and head reeling from how exactly could she had copied his ENTIRE FILE so perfectly with such a little window of opportunity, the blond somehow manages to choke out his last question, "No offence, but you could have told me that without taking me away from the other girls, you know. Don't you think this is a little much?"

"The more details you confirm, the less of a chance you have of making a mistake. And I don't want to make it my business to deal with a mistake, ever. I didn't get the grades I got by not bothering to do a bit 'much'." Eve states, and then she leans in a little closer and her voice becomes more seriously sounding, if that is even possible. "We had a demon attack happen right under our noses a matter of weeks ago. At this rate, those 'other girls' could turn out to be demons themselves. How many of the people you know do you truly know?"

Several stretched out seconds pass between the two, while Eve stares intently at Ronald and Ronald tries to figure out exactly how to react to the information load that had just been dumped on him. For a few moments, neither one of them moves a single muscle.

Until a tickle finds it's way into a pit below Ronald's stomach.

And then that tickle turns into a bubble.

And then that bubble divides into many, many more bubbles that float up, up, out his abdomen to his mouth and out as joyous, uncontrollable laughter.

Oh, this girl is all too much. Going so far to prove a demon MIGHT show up. Suspecting a co-worker of being one. Saying everything with such a straight face- she still has one!- as if this one little thing could very well decide her life and death. It is all too much, and Ronald finds it hilarious.

"What's so funny?" Obviously not getting the reaction she was expecting, or hoping for, Ronald does not know which, his junior tilts her head to the side and frowns. "And here I thought you could be the lease bit serious about your work."

"It's not- that!" The blond manages to choke out between guffaws, "It's just- you're taking this SO 'no-nonsense-, you know? You'd think you were related to Mister Spears, or something. Look," Wiping a tear from his eye and calming himself down (... For the most part), He puts a hand on his subordinate's shoulder, since physical contact never hurts, and gives her the most reassuring smile he can. "You don't have to worry 'bout someone suddenly turning out to be a demon' in the workplace, okay? Demons never do that; there's no reason to be paranoid. And next time, you don't need to ask to talk to me privately- just drop by my cubicle whenever you need help, okay?"

This mollifies Eve for the most part, and she does not peruse the matter any further, though she does mutter, "Just 'demons' don't do that, is that it..." To herself, lost in thought, before realizing that Ronald still has his hand on her shoulder and shaking it off to walk up to the door and turn the lock again.

...

"Oh. Ronald, there you are!" Not two seconds out the door, the two reapers are ambushed by a gaggle of giggling girls, who promptly stop their rather annoying tittering as they lay eyes on her. The same co-worker who had been talking pipes up again. "We were looking for you, you know. Hey... Is this girl giving you trouble?" Though partially hidden, the vindictiveness and suspicion in the women's voice is evident.

Before Eve can open her mouth to say that no, she did not intend to cause trouble, and therefore what she and Ronald had been talking about is none of their business, the senior reaper in question throws an arm- a whole arm!- around her and grins to pacify the crowd. "Just a junior with a case of nerves is all; she got real shy and wanted to talk to me alone, seeing as I'm so helpful." It is a well crafted lie, taking advantage of Eve's quiet nature and his own more social one to make it more convincing. "Ladies, meet Evangeline Sonata Britford, soon to be your new co-worker- after she passes the final exam, of course."

And just like that, the entire group's air of tension disappears. Apparently they are easily satisfied. "Oh, okay!" One chirps with a feeling of blissful ignorance. "It's nice to meet you, Evangeline Sonata Britford."

This ends up opening the conversation, and leads to many other questions like, "Where did you get your name? It's really pretty, did you know that?" And "Hey, have you ever tried the sushi here? It's FANTASTIC." All of them rather personal and impertinent, and all of them directed at Eve, who cannot sneak off and escape the spotlight thanks to her being the centre of attention and that of the group of people around her.

Desperately not wanting to ask the many questions being lobbed at her like catapulted rocks during a siege (rocks on fire), Eve is luckily saved by a question a shorter coworker asks not her, but to the older reaper, who, for that matter, should really remove his arm from around her waist... "So, Ronald, you're coming to tonight's party, right?"

"Oh, definitely, of course!" The reaper in question confirms. "I'm looking forward to it, Donna."

"So you already have plans? Eve asks, a little disappointed. "I was hoping I'd be able to plan the case investigation with you."

"Just in case?" Another eyebrow raise and accompanying smile from Ronald tells her he already knows the answer.

She nods. "Just in case."

The new centre of attention strokes an imaginary beard in fake wisdom as he considers things. "Well, why don't you come with us? It's an open party after all, and if it's just in case it's not like it'll matter if all we do is talk it over."

"Ah," For the first time in a long time, Eve falters significantly. She had never been put in this position before.

"Come on!" Ronald cajoles, playfully prodding Eve in the ribs, though he doesn't press the matter when she shies away from the touch immediately. She will never get used to him, will she? "It'll be loads of fun, I promise! Actually, I shouldn't say that knowing you- don't give me that look, you know it's true! But what I can guarantee is good stuff to drink, pool and poker to play, and free food-"

"I'm in." Eve cuts in quick as a flash of lightning. She may be an anti-social introvert with years of painful mental scarring to bottle up and deal with, but she will be damned if she is going to refuse a free meal.

"Really, just like that?" The blonde blinks a few times and does the old, 'looking there and back' routine, as if not believing what he had just heard. "Great! Then, why don't I pick you up at six? Usual place?"

"Fine." Eve shrugs.

Another girl grabs Ronald's arm and tugs it closer against her body. "Aw, no fair, Ronald! You said you were going to me up after work!"

"I can pick you up after no prob," The boy responds smoothly. "It's a group date after all. Do you think Lucas would be up to coming too?"

"Hmmm, I dunno, I think he told me he might have overtime..."

"Hey, Ronald! Then can you pick me up too?"

Finally, with the attention drawn away from her (Ronald may prove to have even more uses than she thought) Eve manages to slip away and disappear, as she so much more prefers to do than talk of parties and socializing.

Well, at least she is getting a meal out of it.

...

"Ohhhhh? You're going out on a date? I for one, am shocked!" Undertaker feigns a heart attack, clutching at the fabric at his chest, leaning back and making the dramatic face of a fish drowning in air, as he expresses his obviously genuine surprise (note the sarcasm) before dissolving into another fit of giggles. "To think you would willingly go on an outing like thaaatt. It's so unlike you, Eve."

"It is not a date." Eve shoots back. "He's getting me dinner and agreeing to go over plans for when we infiltrate the scene in question-"

"So you're expecting to have to break in? Naughty naughty." The creepy smile on his face increases in creepiness, a formidable feat, as Undertaker slides down the coffin the two are seated on and leans in quite close to Eve, who promptly shoves him away and makes him fall back, flailing and snickering.

"Yes... Though he doesn't know it it." The girl crosses her arms in an attempt to visibly close herself off from Undertaker's attempts to unsettle her. It does not work and he plops himself down right next to her again. "Either way, I'd deem it a fair price to pay for having to go outside for a whole night. And no offence, but I'm growing rather tired of eating cookies for breakfast and dinner all
the time."

"And why do you think that is?" A sassy tone reminiscent of one scarlet reaper inches itself into the tone of Undertaker's question as he taps one aforementioned cookie against his chin. "In my own humble opinion, you spend far too much time inside."

"Says the one who talks to corpses for company."

"I'll have you know they can hold very interesting conversations!" Undertaker exclaims and claims at the same time. "Like Mister Smith over there, who had the misfortune of falling off a bridge. Apparently the water in London is getting quite cold this time of year, did you know that? My point is, in your current occupation, it's in your best interest to get to know who you work with, hmmm? I know I do. It's best to get along with your coworkers and avoid any additional... Friction that may happen between them and you."

Now it is Eve's turn to perform an inquisitive eyebrow raise at the unusually un-cryptic advice the mortician is offering her. "Oh?" She mimics his earlier words, minus the teasing tone and stretched out syllables. "You're showing concern for a living being? I, for one, am shocked."

"Well..." Briefly, Undertaker seems to be talking seriously. "I do want what's best for you. Believe it or not, I do care a good deal about you."

Now Eve is truly surprised. "Really?"

"Of course." Undertaker smiles a rather softer smile than usual. "I haven't ever had a guest stay for so long, or for that matter, give me so many laughs! I'm growing quite fond of you, Eve."

"..." Really, truly surprised. "Thank you...?" Is all she can say. And luckily, she needs not have to say much more, because just after, the door vibrates with a triple knock. "Oh, that must be him." She acknowledges, a little absentmindedly.

"Go on." The man coaxes, as Eve gets up and opens the door to reveal Ronald, who does not look much different than usual. Same glasses, same hair, same smile. He is, however, wearing a hat.

"Hi." He greets. "Ready to go?"

"Enjooyy~!" Undertaker calls out just as the two leave, drawing out the last half of the word like stretching taffy. "Ah, now where was I? I do believe Miss Belfrey had something to say about that philandering lover of hers... What fun!"

...

Ronald does not like party poopers.

It should be an obvious fact. His natural habitat is practically anything with a partying atmosphere, and therefore he has quite a disliking for those who may ruin a perfectly good get together. Like someone who drinks way too much on someone else's pay check and leaves with all the girls (*COUGH*Eric Slingby*COUGH*)? Or by being incredibly gloomy and pessimistic and trying to dump that gloominess and pessimistic-ness on everyone else. Or by hogging all the attention by pole dancing on someone else's Death Scythe... Actually, when Grell had done that at the birthday party he had thrown William a few years back, that had been pretty damn hilarious...

But anyways. Back on track. Ronald likes parties. He does not like people who ruin parties. As a result, he does not like party poopers. And for that matter, he is not inclined in the slightest to usually pay attention to wallflowers. Which he considers party poopers in the sense that they kind of clog up the atmosphere with their mopiness. After all, there's no point to a party if not to have fun, right?

Then why is it that that girl has been hanging back, doing nothing, absolutely nothing, but watch others for the past half hour, and Ronald cannot for the immortal life of him take his eyes off her?

It is probably because she has that whole 'dark and mysterious' aura about her, he tells himself. Yeah, that has to be it. The unsmiling, the dark brooding, the silence; if males fitting that description can make girls swoon in those cheesy romance novels he has heard so many female co-workers squeal about, a girl doing the same thing is bound to attract some kind of attention. Even from Ronald. Because apparently he is into that kind of thing-

No! No! Bad Knoxie! Ronald has to catch and mentally scold himself for a while. No hitting on a girl you've met for like two weeks! That's just not cool! Besides... She's just here on business anyways.

"Not everyone present is due to die, so if we watch from afar and a demon is present, it will most likely attempt attacking us and cause problems." She had said. "It's best to hide with the rest of the crowd; we're less likely to be interrupted if hidden in plain sight."

They had gotten the business end of their conversation over quickly, but the other end had turned out to be just that: an end. And now the two are simply standing on opposite sides of the room, Eve watching everyone else and not intending to make a move, Ronald watching Eve and waiting for her to do something.

At last he thinks to himself, Eff it. If I can't get everyone involved and enjoying a social event, what kind of lucky-go reaper o' fun would I be? Eh, that sounded pretty lame, actually... I'll think of a better name later.

So he swallows the rest of his drink and crosses the room.

...

"Hey. So, how's it going?"

Eve lifts her head and glances at Ronald, who had come up to her with an empty glass in his hand. She soon breaks her gaze away to rove it over the sight before her; reapers dance to swing music melting into blues to jazz back to swing, their arms and legs tangling with each jump and pull. People drink freely from kegs of beer and other kinds of liquids she is rather wary of talking about. Contenders huddle around card and pool tables, betting amounts of cash on different possibilities, hooting with victory when they win, groaning in defeat when they lose. Everyone here looks as if they are thoroughly enjoying themselves, so jovial, so carefree, so unlike Eve. She does not fit in in the slight. "Fine." She says. "I'd rather like to go back soon, though."

"Not your type of joint?"

"No." The 'joint' in question happens to be several 'joints', the collection of several reapers' rooms combined to create a space, a bubble of sorts, in which all that exists inside is celebration and fun-having. Rather than take Undertaker's advice to heart, Eve had found herself feel rather overwhelmed, and instead contented herself with watching others instead. It was not so bad, really. One can learn far more from a person just by watching them than what one can garner from a simple conversation with the subject. Still, even seeing so many people at once makes her a little uncomfortable, she has to admit.

Sensing this, Ronald assures her, "Then I'll take you back-"

"Yoooouuuuu HOOOOO! Ronald Knox you out!" Until his words are amputated rather brutally by a reckless holler. It is a male calling him from the poker room, shuffling a deck of cards between rolling fingers. "You gonna get your ass over here and play that hand you promised or what?"

"Can't it wait, John? I've got a girl to take home!" The blond cups his hand and responds equally loudly to carry his voice across the din of the many party-goers.

Among many hoots of, "OHHHHHHHHH!" Which mildly surprises Eve but does not deter Ronald in the slightest, apparently used to it, John smirks rather lecherously and says, "That's fine, let 'er play too! We'll teach her and hold her hand or tuck her in or whatever and everything!"

Cue the eyebrow raise from the girl and the awkward laughter from the boy. "Ahaha... They always get like that after a few drinks. You don't have to play if you don't want to."

"I'll do it." The junior says rather quickly, already planning what to do.

A split second stare and shrug later, Ronald guides her to the table and they sit down.

"That's the spirit!" John handles the cards like a pro and puts down several sets together. "Listen up, sweet cheeks, here's how it goes. You get dealt hands. Depending on what it is," he goes thought the order of the hands' hierarchy here, "You can be on top, or not on top. The difference between the two? The first one gets all the money."

"Money?" Eve asks, and she is met with somewhat drunk laughter.

"Yeah, the money. You have some with you to bet, so you bet according to how high you think your hand is. But here's the thing. You can make people bet more by raising the number. The more confident you are of having the highest hand, the more you bet. 'Course, even if you got not even a pair you can try and up the ante and bluff your way through, make everyone fold. Do that, and you win. Got it? Well, that and at least ten pounds."

"Yes." Searching their pockets a bit, both newcomers cough up ten pounds to be converted to chips, even though several other players seem to have double or triple that amount to work with, and suddenly John hands Eve a small yellow chip. "Dealer's buck." He say, referring to the right to deal the cards. "Ladies first."

Nodding in agreement, Eve takes the stack of cards, which feel worn and soft with feathery edges as she shuffles them between her fingers. Counting carefully, she finishes and starts to deal them out, from left to right.

...

"Well, I'm folding." John admits, completely defeated. "Anyone else wanna have a go?"

Eve, who is seated next to him, collects and pushes the entire total of her chips into the centre, which just so happens to be the majority of all the players' money in the entire game, having spent the last seven rounds beating out everyone else with skill, dumb luck, and Ronald knows what else. For someone just introduced to the game, the girl is freakishly good. "All in."

A collective groan rises out of everyone else sitting that the table like their souls were floating out of their mouths along with them. One by one, grumbling reluctantly, each person either folds or goes all in, until four more people go, and Ronald's turn, the last one, comes, and the last remaining player to make a move stares at Eve's stone cold face.

There is no movement, no sign of a tell, whatsoever. In fact, she may not even be breathing.

Damn, she is good.

"You know what?" Ronald decides on a spur of the moment revelation. "I'm going to go on a limb here and guess that you won't have the highest hand of the bunch. Again. I'm all in."

So he takes his chips, not much less than what he had started with, and puts them in the centre. With the look on most of his opponents faces, their hands were mediocre at best. And Eve could not possibly have a hand that high, right? Ronald is fine so long as she has something like a full house. A four of a kind, even. He can beat a four of a kind.

No such luck. As she lays down the cards, the combination of a royal flush is evident. Now the groaning really gets loud, as John exchanges Eve's winning for cash and she moves to leave. The victor is momentarily delayed, however, by John congratulating her. "I gotta say, that was pretty bleeding impressive." He sounds sincere, as of genuinely bewildered. Or maybe drunk.

"Hmmm. Well," she says, apparently feeling conversational for once. "I suppose now I have your money in my pocket, it's safe to tell you I was counting cards the entire time to win."

"..." The ensuring silence would be rather hilarious to Ronald, looking at everyone else with their blanched faces and hanging open mouths, if it were not for the fact that he had lost ten perfectly good pounds to her too.

Now Eve really does get up to leave. "And now that you know that, hopefully you will never impede me to play a game of poker, or offer to hold my hand, ever again."

Then she grabs Ronald's arm and drags him away. Again.

...

"Uh, wow..." Trying to break an incredibly awkward and tense silence that had persevered between the two for the last half hour, Ronald chuckles half-heatedly and sweeps a hand through his hair. "That was some spectacle you showed there. Were you planning to do that the entire time?"

"No." Eve keeps her eyes ahead, staring coolly at the moonlight cobblestone before their feet. It had just rained in London; a silvery sheen flows over the landscape like a translucent blanket, as light from the wet surfaces is reflected, and the cool night air makes the scene feel like it had been drawn by an artist, crisp-lined and gloss-speckled.

"The folks back at work won't be too happy with you next time they see you, I think."

"Agreed."

"Then why decide to do it?"

The low temperature makes her put her hands in her pockets. "To win. Because I could. Because I wanted to. Is there usually any other reason anyone does anything?" She breaks her gaze from the horizon to give him a glance, nothing more.

"Well... For another person, I guess." Is all that the blonde seems to be able to think of. But he has a good point. "Unselfish actions happen all the time. Haven't you ever seen one?"

"I have." As an afterthought, she adds, "I've done a few myself." What she does not say is that the majority of them had been done for someone who is long dead. Or, at least, it feels like an eternity for the raven-haired reaper for sure.

Ronald's voice is genuinely warm when he praises her. "Good! Then you know unselfish actions can get you far in life. I'd try doing a couple more if I were you."

"I'll think on it." Is all that Eve says. She refrains from telling him just how wrong he is. After all, when is an 'unselfish' action ever done entirely for someone else's sake? Humans always have some kind of ulterior motive whenever they help someone; Eve knows that from past experience. Reputation or reimbursement, there is always something they secretly hope for in return. Those 'somethings' may never end up being repaid, even. Unselfish actions only get you so far. When you are the one in need of help, Eve knows, the only person you can truly depend upon is yourself. Such is a facet in the nature of humans.

Then again... Undertaker, Ronald, and all reapers are not strictly human.

Neither is she.

Perhaps that is something to ponder later, she notes.

"Eve?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright?" Concern is in Ronald's voice. Had she really let the bitterness of her expression show through.

"I was just lost in thought, I think." She quickly reflects. "It's complicated." To further nip the bud of any growing conversation, she says rather hastily, "I can go back on my own from here. Thank you."

Nodding solemnly, Ronald agrees. "Oh, okay. See you tomorrow then. I promise not to be late this time for sure!" He gives a wave and turns to go, after giving one last somewhat half hearted smile

"Alright." She does the same, minus the smile.


RonaldEmo. Just saying. Even or his little ball of sunshine can't cheer Eve Up. But don't worry. She'll develop something resembling an interesting personality eventually.

Eventually...

Naw, it's going to take pretty long, seeing the schedule I've put myself on. It's a long folks.

*Falls asleep*