#eolaii

    A click of heels in the hall, a shadow through the door. Angela was coming. She looked tired, as though she hadn’t slept. She barely had time away from the lab, not with so much worry about her projects mounting. But lately she only found support (and solace) from Dr. O’Deorain. One of the few who was encouraging. It should not have been comfort, but it was. 

    She was reading off a clipboard as she entered the lab, hair falling over her face and glasses. “Moira, I was looking over some of the gene panels you gave me about Gabriel and I-”

    She looked up then to see her on the floor, eyes widening at the sight. One of Moira’s arms was an angry, abused purple, different from a bruise but yet growing under the skin all the same. The clipboard clattered to the floor then as Angela broke into a sprint.

“So what research do you do exactly?” 

Her lab was sterile, pristine; Reaper should have felt out of place there. But as he moved silently through the familiar laboratory, he couldn’t help but feel like it was as much a part of his home as some of the other places he’d lived at. Familiar after the hours upon hours he had spent here--

and the sentiment extended to his company, too.

“O’Deorain,” he said casually, leaning against one of her tables as he slid a small, unassuming usb drive her way. “I got those files you wanted, figured I’d deliver them myself instead of relying on one of those other idiotas.”

Those she could handle, their newest request- order, however, hit a nerve. She didn’t have a choice. But that didn’t mean she had to be there on time. Or cooperate.

Pushing open the heavy door she’d been directed to the week before, she almost immediately recoiled at the pure white of it all, the wave of disinfectant that assaulted her. 

Glimpsing a slim figure on the other side of the room, she took a step in and shut the door behind her. 

“Lets make this quick, sí? I’m a busy girl, amiga.”

A nervous chuckle leaves the man as he settled on the couch, looking to the woman who was reading in a nearby loveseat.

017. When does your character think that violence is justified or deserved?

Gabriel is a violent man to begin with, so it doesn’t take much. When he feels like someone needs to be taken out. When words don’t work. When there’s a war to win and he is, after all, the perfect killing machine. When talking in the middle of the night about your demons wouldn’t work and hitting a punching bag or the wall would. When your life is on the line. When someone else’s life is on the line. When a kiss with a fist is better than nothing.

028. What makes them laugh out loud?

Hah, he has a weakness for good puns. He is pretty good at telling jokes but it takes a lot to crack that facade, so if he laughs out loud, it’s a really good one. Other than that: the irony of a situation, discomfort, masquerades. 

Relief.

075. Is your character ticklish?