ＤＥＡＴＨX X XＳＴＯＲＭ
"βєнιи∂ ξvєяץ Ӻσятυиє
тнєяє ιs α Ȼяιмє."
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Death had been sitting at his desk, in pure bliss and peace, when suddenly, Olympia burst through the doors. He could instantly feel a headache coming on. However, without blinking or even slowing his pace as he wrote and filled out a form, he asked, "What do you need?" His voice was it's usual powerful tremor. Of course, he wasn't annoyed. At least, not quite yet, but he could easily get there if he spent more than five minutes with the woman. Sometimes, he would question himself as to why he had hired her to help him, but then he remembered that she could at least be useful in handling people that he didn't to deal with. Sort of like a janitor who swept away the trash.
In a few seconds, he had finished filling out the form and set it down under a nearby glass paperweight that enclosed some poor soul's eye. He supposed he may as well give her some of his time. Shifting his piercing, dagger-sharp eyes at her, Death folded his hands in front of him and sat with his back straight waiting for whatever report she was going to give him. It would infuriate him if it turned out it was nothing.
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