Another month, another update, right on schedule, yup yup yup. I was hoping to keep my chapters at around a 6000 word average, but I'm afraid it's petering out to a mere 5000. Just as well; when I start merging the story with the canon storyline I'm limiting myself to a chapter per chapter, and they could get a lot shorter then. If so, maybe I'll increase updates to twice a month... It all depends, I guess, but I want to keep my updates consistent!
Also, because I'm bored ('because I'm bored' happens to be the number one reason why I do anything; the number two reason is 'I like tasty food') and I want to know whose been actually reading these author notes, I'm opening a mini Q and A for the characters. This includes canon and all original characters that appeared in MAGE or in DDD so far. Ask a question, the respective character will answer! Even if they're dead.
If there are too many questions (HAHAHAHAHAHA!AHAHAHAHAH!HAHAHAH- as if!) I'll pick the top ten I like and you'll see them answered next time.
Enjoy!
For a peaceful, almost serene, moment, the very beginning of the exercise commences with every student, with the exception of Eve, not really sure of what to do. Like deer in headlights, the majority of trainees look at each other, slightly confused, and taken aback at the suddenness of the potential chaos they had just been plunged into. One would think they had no idea of what to do. (Brandi, having yet to recover from her recent injuries, is standing to the side, with a begrudging expression what with her being barred from a chance to humiliate her rival, but still looks as though she may enjoy what she is about to see.)
Someone, a random reaper-in-training, suddenly realizes what to do, like a light bulb had been lit in his head, and rips the fake cinematic records from the back pockets of the person standing next to him, and the first person is taken out of the game.
Then all Hell breaks loose.
In the first thirty seconds, nearly a quarter of the class is defeated, the strips of cloth representing their link to life, their shield from death, torn from them by the grasping hands of another. They had all been standing in a tight groups and clichés just before this, a choice that many, especially the reapers in the center of the mass, now regret. They stay where they are; all trainees upon loss had been instructed to wait at the main building, after all.
Those who had been standing on the fringe now have an advantage. They run, legs carrying them past the edge of the first building and onto the roof of another. The distance between the skyscrapers is not too, but certainly large enough that those of too mundane a nature will have difficultly clearing such a breadth.
As if there are any humans here.
Even should one fall, Undertaker had been careful to take precautions, albeit no doubt after giving in to the pestering of one William T. Spears. Eve can see as she crosses over to the first adjacent building that there are nets fastened far above the ground, over an area of a few hundred square feet. She makes her way to the outside of the area; less people will be undaunted by the danger of falling, she knows, and the smaller the number of opponents she faces, the better chance she has of winning. (Not to mention there is a certain redhead that she finds in her best interest to stay out of sight of for the time being.)
Alas, the plan does not work as well as she wishes. Three boys, appearing to be in an alliance at the moment, start to come towards her, sprinting swiftly towards her with the intention to charge. Eve moves out of the way, to the left, intending to make her attackers collide as she takes their 'reels', but only two of them do this. The last one, the brunet in the middle, is a little smarter and stops short to lunge, take his trainer scythe and swing. The arc just misses Eve, and it comes just close enough that she can grab his arm (the limited range of this weapon really doesn't do much for the attacker, does it?) and pull it forward.
The girl takes her spoils and flits away. Eight down, she counts, twelve to go.
Felicia is taking advantage of her short stature and tripping others left and right, taking their records as she goes. Eleven, ten.
Another boy approaches Eve.
Eve prepares to fight.
The boy raises his scythe… and then swings it into thin air, using the momentum to perform a spinning kick in the air, before displaying punches and blocks in an overrated display of martial arts. A lunge and punch, two steps, a kick, a block, a second punch. Then he spins his weapon and flourishes it, accompanying it with a ridiculous war cry, his tensed in a perfect 'O'.
For a few seconds, Eve stands there and takes in her opponent's rashness. And stupidity.
Then she roundhouse kicks him in the face and takes his strips of cloth anyways.
Nine left.
Two boys gang up on another and takes his reels, but one of them is turned against and he also is taken out. Seven.
Felicia continues her rampage. "Over here, bitches!" She hollers, cackling with slight hysteria as she leaps out from behind a group of students huddled together in a surprise attack. Six, five, four are left. The redhead. seems to be having great fun with this. Almost too much.
Two others get into a brawl, pushing and shoving, and one leans too far over the edge of the roof. Though he falls, arms splaying and failing to catch anything to hold on to, into the safety of the net, it is enough to make a nearby mortician giggle surreptitiously into one of his baggy sleeves.
"By the way," he decides to add, "If you touch the net, you've lost."
There are three competitors left standing: Eve, Felicia, and another boy.
"What'd you know; it's me and you, kouhai!" The Lolita dressed girl gives an almost too-wide grin for her young face. "But don't think I'll go easy on you just cuz I'm your only friend!"
You're not my friend. Eve wastes a fraction of a second to think this and proceeds to dive to strike at the boy who had been standing between them and probably been about to say "I'm still here, you know..." before he had been forced to fling himself out of the way of Eve's swipe.
"H-Hey! Let me finish, won't you-"
"Irrelevant." Eve is not even aware of her saying this, but she is responding to Felicia's inane question, albeit with a sentence fragment.
"What- that doesn't even make sense?!"
By this time, Eve has kicked the last of the three survivors off the roof and turned towards the other girl. "Here's something that will make sense then." She points her trainer scythe, swiping through the air between the two of them. "I will not go easy either. Ever."
An almost delighted and definitely slightly hysteric grin stretches back on Felicia's face. "Now that's what I'm talking about! Now give me your best shot-"
WHAM.
Eve gives her the best shot she can. And what her best shot happens to be is a full on body tackle that sends the smaller, lighter, and much less stable body of Felicia's crashing into a wall.
"Ow!" The Lolita redhead picks herself off quickly only to be forced to dodge a mere millisecond later, as the dull but still damaging blade of a miniature reaping scythe makes a beeline for her backside.
Her opponent circles around her like a wolf circles its prey, snapping behind her and following as Felicia twists and turns. The steps to this curving dance slowly becomes more erratic and random, and the redhead starts to become dizzy and Eve swoops down on her again and again, intent on winning.
Eventually she succeeds, and Felicia finally falls, feeling far too fuzzy in her head to make much sense of anything. "Ohhhh..." She groans to no one but herself. "So you really are that strong, huh?"
"Hmmph." Eve collects the last of the reels, the only student still standing. It had been a rather anti-climatic end to a rather anti-climatic exercise- she had not found much trouble with anyone who had gone up against her at all. One more naive or hopeful than Evangeline Sonata Britford may think that after a lifetime of misfortune, one is getting off easy at last.
Unfortunately, this girl is one Evangeline Sonata Britford. She knows her luck does not last, she knows Undertaker's careful word choice when outlining the details of the game had not been without purpose, and she knows, absolutely knows, what is about to happen next.
Because the Gods forbid that Eve ever get off easy.
Trudging up to Undertaker, the aforementioned reaper-in-training drones, "Let me guess. This is the part where I assume I win. Then you laugh and say something like 'I'd never said anything like thaaaaaat', before noting that I'd never lost my records, so anyone who hasn't lost yet can still fight me, which includes you, Mister Spears, and Mister Sutcliff, correct?"
The mortician just chortles. "Catching on so fast, you never cease to amaze me."
And this is the part, Eve says the next bit of her tortured rant only to herself, where Sutcliff recognizes me...
And I'm going to have to fight him.
Exactly as she thinks this, Grell snaps his fingers and his face lights up like a candle had been lit behind his eyes. "I remember now! You're the scrawny brat I left for dead a few months back! I wondered if you'd died of blood loss back there. Ah, good times~" He seems quite nostalgic.
"Wait, what's with all the hate here?" The red-drenched reaper, not Felicia, notices the tiniest shift in Eve's movement as she steps back into a different stance. A fighting stance.
Eve frowns, momentarily perplexed by the surprisingly nonchalant attitude of Grell. "You nearly killed me you act like it doesn't matter?"
"Oh you're still going on about that? Tch, you're so like William, always holding grudges. Don't you know we girls always need to stick together?"
Vaguely remembering these words being echoed from Felicia's mouth, and how the young girl had always seemed to have some kind of adoration for the killer standing in front of her, Eve tenses, bristling, and waits for Hell to break loose.
It breaks, alright. "But you're right, Undie did say there's a wish fulfilled on the line... so just this once, I think I'll forget that!" Grell's words rise in pitch at the very end of his sentence, and in volume, as he suddenly leans forwards and lunges. Much to the surprise and mild horror of the majority of the watching class, Grell summons his own scythe and lunges.
He still has his scissors.
This very important fact gives Eve a very, very important edge. For though Grell does currently posses a legitimate reaping scythe, it is still a pair of scissors, and therefore not much better or more useful than the tiny curved blade and handle Eve is using. She may actually have a chance to beat Grell Sutcliff's face into the ground, which even she must admit would be at least slightly satisfying, as apathetic as she is in regards to everything around her, without risking injuring herself. Despite this, Eve stays on guard, perfect aware of how deadly an opponent Grell can be.
If Grell's line of movement can be described as one that drives relentlessly towards its target, in a straightforward motion stretching directly between him and Eve, than her line of movement is a series of twisting arcs and turns, never reaching a specific place in one movement, never touching anything, although it circles around and just barely drifts from the reach of Grell's line the entire time.
The onlookers can almost see these lines; the glint of sunlight off of Eve's trainer scythe, and Grell's scissors, flash dots of brightness in streaks and curves that just barely resemble these paths that their wielders took.
Speaking of onlookers, Brandi and Felicia manage to have quite an endearing conversation as they watch the battle ensue.
"Damn... she's good at fighting too?"
"Well, yeah, you can tell that by looking. Why are you so worked up about it?"
"Because she's good at everything! She's ridiculously good at everything! Ethics! Writing! And now practical stuff too?! Gods dammit if it weren't for these bandages I'd give her a piece of my mind."
"Really? I'm pretty sure she'd beat you up."
"Wh- no she wouldn't!"
"Nah, I'm pretty sure she'd beat you up. Look at her go! That kick and spin looked awesome! Oh, close one there, but she just missed. I almost don't know who to cheer for- but Grell-sempai is always my number one favourite!"
"Suuuurrreee."
"Ohhhh, I bet you're jealous, tee hee."
"...I'm not going to dignify you with a response."
"Admit it! You're jealous of the cold perfectionist girl that constantly rivals and beats you at everything! It happens so often in comics it's practically an archetype!"
"No! I refuse you believe that!"
"Hahahaha, you're jeeaaaalloouuuus~!"
"What... what the fuck?!"
"What?"
"That... that... that '~' thing! What the bloody Hell was that?!"
"I dunno. I don't think we should be talking about this kind of thing. It makes me feel weird. Hey, look out out!"
"What are you- AWK!" At this point of the conversation, Brandi looks in the direction that Felicia had been pointing in to just barely see and duck Eve, who had been thrown in her direction.
The reaper in question digs in her feet and grinds to a halt not three feet from slamming into the nearest wall. "Ugh. Let my guard down." She mumbles to herself as she brings her free hand up and adjusts her glasses. Her eyes dart upwards to see Grell, who is currently attempting to corner her with, Eve has to admit, a tentative success.
"So sweet of you to hand yourself to me on a platter, darling." The bloodthirsty reaper says as he stalks like a cat around the mass of people comprised of students, an instructor, and one laughing mortician, the only thing between him and Eve, his 'prey'. "But this is the end of the road!" His stalking becomes prowling, then hunting, then full on sprinting as he lunges, hands outstretched and scissors at the ready to cut Eve's 'life force'.
Eve is presented with two choices: face Grell or jump off the roof. She gives a quick glance at the second option and sees that there are no ropes indicating the presence of any safety net or precaution of any kind.
The choice is clear.
Backing away as Grell advances, Eve stares him down as if he is a tiger... and steps backwards to suddenly disappear over the edge of the roof.
"Eh? Where did you go?" The attacking redhead whines, his momentary trance of feral ferocity forgotten. "Don't tell me you've surrendered already! And things were just getting good!" Rushing to the edge of the platform, Grell leans over, his crimson locks draping over his shoulders to rest in thin air...
Only to have his face smashed in by a pair of boots. Boots that belong to Eve; for when she had jumped off the roof, it had not been so much 'jumping off the roof' as it had been 'jumping off the roof and gripping the very edge as to not plummet to her possible 'death'. Before Grell can recover from the kickback and splutter some indignant quip about his face, Eve pushes off with her hands to wrap her legs around the redhead's torso, and flip right-side-up to knock Grell to the ground. Thus, with an 'oof' and heavy thud as he falls, Grell is pinned down by Eve.
Eve then proceeds to, as one student later eloquently puts it, "Beat the shit out of him." Sheathing her scythe, the trainee resorts to her fists for the close combat, punching the man beneath her multiple times and holding him down as he tries in vain to escape, his attempts to turn away from the barrage of hits found useless, his arms held down by her knees.
This entire time everyone, Grell included, is too taken aback by the spectacle to move a muscle, save for Undertaker, who is busy laughing his head off. ("Hee hee hee! This is just too much! Haha...!")
"Guh- Gah- How are you even doing this?!" The challenger finally finds the time to screech, between hits.
"Easily." Eve decides to say in a rare moment of passive-aggressiveness made rather redundant by the fact that she is currently beating him up. "Now shut up and let me throttle your face."
Her choice to respond distracts her however, and Grell takes this chance to head butt her in a surprise attach, somehow freeing himself and flipping their positions so he is on top of Eve. "Alright, now you've got me pissed off." He hisses, and that psychotic personality of his returns like water down a fall. "So pay for it."
His scissor blades raise and glint in the sunlight.
Eve's free hand lifts with it, stopping the plunge not an inch from her face. Then, with no warning, her breath hitches, and a small stream of fire shoots from her nose. The man pinning her down lurches back, caught off guard for just a moment, but it is enough.
Not being as properly pinned as Grell had been previously, she manages to deflect the scythe and get it buried in roof tiles just beside her head and grab the hand attached to it to regain her advantage in the fight. As Grell moves to dig his second weapon into her, Eve catches that one too, and rips it away. It slides across the floor, coming to a stop beneath Felicia's foot. The girl, who had been sitting cross-legged until now, squeaks and backs away in slight panic.
Wanting an end to the fight, she starts to hoist Grell upward and drag him to a ledge. "Pay for what?" She asks. "Acting in self defense? When you were the first to attack? And for what, a wish?" She scowls and manages to get Grell held over the edge, whose eyes are blazing with fury as he growls like a wild cat and tries to free himself, but to no avail; Eve's fingers are curled in an iron grip, and his scythes are useless, having been wretched away. "Wishes are useless. No one said they ever come true." She rasps just loud enough so the other can hear, as she lets go and kicks Grell square in the chest as he falls. And so, screaming and screeching in his usual irritatingly high-pitched way, Grell falls to his possible doom, and something, where, deep, deep down inside the recesses of Eve's soul, feels wonderfully satisfied as she watches this happen.
However, this feeling soon dies as the redhead falls right into the safety net.
"..." Felicia decides not to say anything.
"..." Brandi decides not to say anything.
"..." William and the rest of the students decide not to say anything.
"Pfttthahahaaha!" Undertaker giggles. "Well, suffice to say, you pass. What do you think, Willu?" He pops up from his seat on the ground and makes his way towards Eve with a flouncy gait, his cloaked arms held up in the air.
The instructor in question clears his throat begrudgingly, visibly strained by resisting the urge to correct the legendary reaper in front of everyone. "As the mentor in charge of evaluating the student, that is up to you do decide." He answers. "However, in my own opinion, yes, the performance was sufficient enough for a passing mark."
"Good!" The mortician chirps, and, without any warning whatsoever, stretches his arms out wide behind Eve and wraps them around her in a tight bear hug. Ignorant of Eve's stiffened squall and furiously whispered pleas ("Sir? Sir?! I have to ask you to let go of me...!") he then proposes "Then you won't mind clearing everyone else out so I can have a word with my... protégée at the moment? I'll have to steal her from the class from now on; she due to write the rest of her exams now."
A deliberate nod comes from William in response. "Yes sir."
And so, the other students file out, one by one, Felicia waves goodbye but no one else does, Eve included, William eventually fishes out Grell and drags him out by the hair, and Eve, sullen faced, is left alone with Undertaker, who still has his arms firmly circling her at the waist.
"So," the silver-haired male decides to half hiss, half whisper right into the girl's ear, pressing her in close, "It's 'sir', now, is it?" His words carry that trace of danger again, like when he had talked to William when Eve had first met the reaper, but with something else in them that Eve cannot detect.
Eve looks over her shoulder at Undertaker, who is holding her too tightly for her liking. Her voice is orderly in tone and completely calm as she answers, one of her arms taking a break from trying to wrest Undertaker's away from her to push up her glasses. "As my mentor, it's only proper to address you as such. I'd use your last name as well, but you never told me yours."
"Oh come now," He pouts, jovial once more. "Surely there's no need to that! We're close enough friends to be on a first name basis, don't you think, my lady?"
"Then why do you always call me that?" The 'lady' in question grumbles.
"Hmm?"
"'My lady.' Why bother calling me that? I'm no longer nobility; in fact, I'd given up the title before I even met you. You say we're on a first name basis when we don't even call each other by our first names. How does that work out?" Eve explains, as she continues to pry at her captor's arms, trying to free herself.
She does not have to try long; the mortician has an apparent change of heart and very quickly lets her go... only to put his equally strong hands on her shoulders and steer her towards the exit. "Alright then... Eve." Undertaker smiles, saying the girl's name for the first time. "I'll correct myself. But first, I do believe you have two examinations to write. Shall we?" Getting to the door, he swirls around and opens the door for Eve with a gentleman's bow. As he watches the girl sniffle, still recovering from the remnants of a cold despite mostly recovering from it the night before, he grins cheekily and adds, "It's getting rather cold outside, isn't it?"
"...alright then." She agrees, and goes back inside.
"Huzzah! Then onwards we go!" And with this, the mortician follows Eve and closes the door behind him.
...
"Wait a minute..."
"Yes, Eve?"
"You never told me your first name. What is it, anyways?"
"Why, it's Undertaker of course!"
"Lia-"
"Ohh, just kidding! 'Undertaker' has been my first name for a while now; it may as well be the real thing! But how about one day I'll tell you?"
"One day soon?"
"Hahahahah- no."
"Ah. I'll just take what I get, then."
...
"...Undertaker."
"Yeeeeeeesss?"
Eve stares down from her seated position at the leering face situated underneath her. "You're rather close. Uncomfortable so."
"Why of course I am!" Undertaker, who is leaning on Eve's desk with both elbows and his chin, makes and odd rolling motion so his shoulder's and head are sprawled all over the student's writing surface, along with her test. "I'm supervising. Obviously, hehe."
Not the slightly bit interested or amused, Eve's face looks below from directly above the mortician. "Can you 'supervise' with your face less near my face?"
"Oh my, was that a question?" Undertaker's grin stretches as he tilts his head a few degrees and cups his hand behind a pierced ear. "I do believe questions are only asked when information is involved..."
Understanding the implication, Eve only buries her fingers in her bangs and leans over her exam paper. "Ugh... nevermind." She groans, and she returns to writing.
The funeral director turned supervisor lets his arm drop with a 'phumph' and continues to watch his student work with eerie attentiveness. Not ten seconds pass when he breaks the newly born silence with his own curiosity. "Why would you ask such a thing anyways? Am I making you uncomfortable?" His words may sound concerned at first, but inside, he is near laughter.
The test-taker looks up from her leaning position. "Oh my." She echoes Undertaker's earlier words with cool indifference. "Was that a question?"
Chuckling at the verbal spar, Undertaker decides to give in, just this once. "Why yes, it in fact was! Tell you what," He offers. "Since we both have things to talk about, I'll waive any fees in ohhh, the next ten minutes." Ten minutes just happen to be the amount of time Eve has left to answer the exam questions.
"Things? What things?" A twinge of annoyance worms its way into Eve's voice. "You're obviously trying to pester me and have nothing of significance to talk to me about- and I have a test to take."
"Ah~!" The mortician practically sings in delight. "But this is your one and only chance to get whatever information you want from me absolutely free! Surely a smart young lady such as you doesn't want to give up such a precious chance... "
Eyeing Undertaker with suspicion, Eve shoves her chair backwards and regards him from afar. "Then what's your real name?"
"I forgot to say, almost whatever information. Sorry!" is the answering chirp.
"... your favourite food?"
"Cookies! What else?"
The girl momentarily looks away to mentally note something to herself. Then she turns back and asks another question. "Drink?"
"Earl Grey tea. Lovely stuff, especially with cubes upon cubes of sugar."
"Your opinion on Mister Spears?"
"Far too uptight for my liking. It'd do him some good to spend some time in a quality coffin."
"Mister Sutcliff?"
"Ahahaha, one very feisty 'lady', I admit. I remember quite a few customers that landed in my humble shop because of him. Quite a lot of fun to take care of them, quite a lot..."
"The answers to the test?"
This sharp turn of conversation comes without too much surprise on Undertaker's part, but he still feigns it in a mock drama performance. "You mean to cheat?" He accuses, even though he knows Eve well enough to know her next answer.
That answer happens to be a shrug and the words "Why not? You never said I couldn't- and so long as the results are the same, the method one uses shouldn't matter so much- if you take into account any consequences."
"You really do want a perfect score on this test, don't you?" The man muses with a tiny smile.
"Of course."
"This test, which, by the way, you have two minutes left to finish."
"!" Shoved into a sudden panic, Eve whips her head to the clock hanging high on the wall in front of her to see that her supervisor is right, and promptly begins to rush through her answers at top speed, cursing under her breath.
Undertaker only laughs.
...
"Oh, hey Miss Britford!" Ronald greets Eve with unwavering cheer as he sees her for the first time after she had been taken in for testing. "How did the exam go?"
He is only replied with a groan from the girl as she leans against the wall, as if sick. "Eh? What's wrong? Are you feeling alright?"
"Nghgnatedeskwork."
"What was that?"
"I hate desk work."
Ronald blinks. "Wow. That was the most normal thing I've ever heard you say, ever. You sure you're okay? You're sniffling awfully loud."
"I'm fine." Even as the curly-haired blonde reaches out to touch her shoulder, to support her somehow, she senses him coming from behind and says, "Really. It's just a cold. You'd want to stay away if I were you."
Though his hand falters, Ronald decides to coax her one more time anyways. "What makes you think that? I don't get sick too easily, you know."
"I sneeze fire."
Thinking back to all the strange things, even for Grim Reapers, which had happened around the girl, Ronald makes the decision to take his hand off her should and give her some room. "I believe you." He says.
And he sidles away.
"Oh! Wait!" However, just as Eve is about to make a quick exit, Ronald says something that catches her attention. She whips to see him pumping his fist on an open palm. "I'm supposed to take you to a room for your marks and final test soon!"
"What time is it?" With the adrenaline surge she had gained from the earlier fight wearing off, Eve can feel her sickness coming on again in her bones, hear it in the croak of her voice.
"Well, let's see." The boy looks at his watch and his face freezes the exact same way Eve had seen it do so before. "Uh... two minutes or so."
A hiss and sad sigh sound out. "Sttttt... hah. Then take me there." Eve says wearily. And she is promptly dragged by the hand by one winking Ronald Knox.
...
"Thirty seconds late." William tuts as they walk in. He is sitting at a table with two different light brown files, one in from of him, one in front of Grell, who is glum and sporting a few large welts, not just from his earlier fight. Judging from his distance from William, he had attempted to do something that rhymes with 'Celeste', and had been appropriately punished for it.
Ronald gives a nervous laugh and points to himself. "Blame that on me again, boss." He says. "Now if you don't mind, I'll be going now."
"No." William stops him and motions to the chair in front of Grell with his spear, before using it to push up his spectacles. "Sit; you are still needed. Miss Britford, you too."
With little protest from neither Eve nor Ronald, the two sit down, the former, in front of William, the latter, in front of Grell.
The brunet adjusts his spectacles again and then addresses the girl in front of her. "Evangeline Sonata Britford." He speaks clearly and pronounces every syllable with care... or perhaps that is just what Eve perceives it as, what with her hanging intently on his every word. "You received a AAA grade on your practical, written, and ethics exam, giving you an average of AAA. Given your irregular situation, you have been allowed to participate in the final exam early. This file contains the information of the human whom you will have to reap to perform your final exam." William's free hand then slides a brown folder towards Eve, white paper peeping out from the edge. "As there are no other students at the same stage, your partner for this will be Ronald Knox."
To acknowledge this, Eve just shifts her eyes for a moment to glance at Ronald. He gives a reassuring, completely unneeded smile, and a quick wave that does not fail to escape Grell's notice, despite the effeminate male's supposed interest in his fingernails. "Ohhhh, getting friendly with the newbie, are you Ronnie dear?" He purrs, only to be stopped by William, who knocks him on the head with his scythe.
"Quiet, you." William scolds. "Do not say anything if it does not pertain to the case."
"Case?" Eve and Ronald inquire simultaneously. The blonde's eyebrow rises inquisitively.
Rolling his eyes and smirking (apparently he is quite used to William casually clocking him on the head), the redhead taps a finger on his, soon to be Ronald's, own file, with is much thicker than the one sitting in between Eve and William. "Yeees, because it would be unfair for Evangeline here to get help from a fully fledged reaper, Ronnie here is getting an assignment of his own. And you don't need to help, by the way. Don't go thinking that with a triple AAA you can do everything; you're talking to a AAA student right now! Ow! Willu~! Now what was that for!?"
There's that ~ thing again...
Just as irritated with Grell's boasting as Eve is, the brunette in question withdraws his spear, which he had just lodged, pointy end first, firmly into the redhead's temple. "As I recall, you only received a AAA grade on your practicals. Your written grade was average and your ethics, subpar. Also, I thought I ordered you not to talk unless you had something important to say."
"But it was important!" Grell whines, attempting to nurse his poor face by rubbing a hand over the wound. "She has to know not to bite off more than she can chew, hmmm?" Suddenly, at William's mention of his past grades, his made-up face lights up and his expression turns dreamy and sickeningly romantic again like it often does. "Oh, Will, you still remember that day? You really do care! I knew you couldn't forget our first night together- our very essences combined as one, joining in a-"
Thankfully, before the flamboyant reaper starts to converse about something that would had needed to be heavily censored, William kindly shuts up him with another jab to the face, this time to the nose specifically.
"I thought I told you." He scowls only the slightest amount, succeeding for the most part to keep his expression neutral. However, the grit of his teeth, . "Not. To talk. Unless you had something important to say. While I am unfortunate enough to be the one to supervise you during your probation, I would rather not have to listen to your natter any more than necessary." Which each emphasized syllable, the strict instructor drives the point, and the end of his scythe, in a little deeper.
Amidst William's scolding, and Grell's pouting, Eve and Ronald sweatdrop.
This conversation is more about them then us, isn't it...
Annnnnnd scene! That's a wrap people! I wanted to end on a humorous note, plus put in some interaction between William and Grell. How the former frequently injures the latter is amusing to me.
Next up! Eve and Ronald investigate the mysterious assignment! But because Ronald is a bum who likes to spend his free time flirting Eve will be all like 'get yo' ass ova' here' and he'll have to be like 'okay' for fear he will get beat up.
Or something.