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It had not even been 48 hours since the incident. things were still in disarray, but hunters moved on. They all acted as if everything were normal, they hadn't all just died VIA zombie apocalypse a few days prior. They moved through the halls with purpose, only difference was a bandage here or there.

A distant look in somes eyes.

Quinn on the other hand was lucky, maybe. He really should not be moving this much just yet, but life division healing worked wonders. He would know, once being a part of their team. Under his long sleeved coat he was wrapped like a mummy and moved a little stiffly, but beyond that to the untrained eye he looked fine. Two cracked ribs, two new bullet sized holes, and a whole slew of bruises and cuts were what lay under that deceivingly white coat. His blue scarf play a role too, wrapping around his neck to hide the robert-hand sized bruising they would find.

Any normal person might stop at the door, stop and turn around and return yet another day. Quinn was not normal, choosing the price of time that his body needed to heal instead for knowledge. So he stood there, outside of his Division leaders office, and knocked on the door.

WELL that was quite the invitation, not that he had expected anything else. Still he found himself cringing, first from the reply and secondly from movement at all hurting right now.

You'd think life division would have invented better painkillers by now.

Doing as he was told Quinn slid open the door and closed it quickly behind him. Staring down the single chair did make him pause, wasn't there usually at least two chairs in here? Maybe Mark removed one. Hmm.

Sti following orders he moved towards the single chair and sat down stiffly. Caelius seemed to be in his usual mood, so from experience he knew not to keep the lead waiting. "Sir, if i may ask a question?" A pause. "Or well, a few." Another pause, speaking with Caelius was always a tango. It was a mixture of making sure you said exactly what you wanted to know and attempting to not piss him off any more than usual. "Something happened a few days ago during the last incident."

Of all the things he would have expected to happen while in the leads office.... This was the least. Drowning in paperwork, a scythe to the face, a verbal smack down? Sure. Disjointed fingerless hands flying seemingly out of no where to beat the snot out of him was certainly a new one. Even more so was the bodiless palms actually really freaking hurt. Even better the lead seemed to think this was something usual, just a regular day in the office. Quinn wasn't exaclty prepared for a sudden attack, but he refused to allow his body to be even more beaten up than it already was. So he attempted to grab the little bastards out of the air if just to stop them from abusing his ready beaten body.

Not only were the hands now in play, but a random arm had come out of no where to join the rest.

Sorry, sir, but he could nto remain seated anymore. "Uhm, Sir." He squeezed out, letting go of one of the hands to stop the arm from choking the life out of him.

"Sir." He called again, in case Caelius missed the first time.

"What the HECK are these?" Should he attack them? Oki was a warm presence in his mind, but he chose to ignore that. Instead he looked around for, something, anything, to trap them in. Maybe he should get something heavy and pin them down?

He started to dodge when a thought hit him. body parts come in pairs, where is the other arm... and WHY was he so calm about this ?


HP: 50-8=42-2=40

Quinn didnt waste a second glance. That box could have been for the Garbage, or once held the most important things closest to Caelius's heart (probably mission reports.)

He saw this box for what it was - an escape. Still holding the fists he dove at the box, shoved the fists inside it, and closed the box holding it down with his knee. Being able to breath would be nice too, so he also would try and shove the arm into the box if it was big enough. If he managed that, he would also possibly steal the tape dispenser off his Division leaders desk and tape the box shut as fast as possible.

He didn't even bother to mask his sigh of relief. Not exactly caring if he looked like a fool Quinn picked up the box, set it on the single chair, and sat on top of it. He fogured his body weight would be enough to keep the body parts in.. Si.. De...

Holy freaking gods did that just happen to him? Urgent matter over with he realized what really just happened here. Why the hell did the death division leader have body parts in his office?

Wincing, quinn tried his best to not drop his eyes from Caelius's as the harsh mans words bit into him. He shouldn't have expected praise, but then again who the hell tested their trainees skils against animated body parts??? Just another day in deus.

"I will try for a better time next time, sir. " he wasn't even being cheeky, even if the words sounded as such.

When allowed to really speak, he decided that instead of drawing out the game to lay it all down in one go. "Sir, during the last incident with the... Well. " He pointed towards the box, pretty certain those came from their recent almost-zombie- apoc. " something happened in the middle of it all, and i wanted to report it in person." He also looked at the stack of papers. " i will also write a formal report if deemed needed." He wasn't sure what caelius would want on public record or not.

"The hourglass mark, the one on my arm. It burned seconds before sending me into cardiac arrest, multiple times." It felt weird speaking as if this was nothing, to him it wasn't. His division lead probably wanted a report void of emotional ties... So he tried to keep the fear out of his voice. "While on the ground, something was whispering in my head about a debt owed. Even stranger, almost a dream like event happened." A pause. "Someone in a chair spoke of a debt as well, a debt i have yet to fill. How i failed to complete a task." Quinn wasn't an idiot, if anything far from it. He had a suspicion what this task might be, what he might need to do.

"I wanted permission to follow up on the mission given to me, to re open and research into the ancient Death and his shards." If he was right that was he source of what was happening to him. He paused. Dare he ask? If he was blabbing it all in one go he might as well. Who knew if caelius would let him finish after this. "The figure also spoke of someone who... Sacrificed. Someone who had given myself, and perhaps the others wish wishes, up like lambs for the slaughter. " it wasn't even really a question, at this point he was fishing for knowledge, of anything. Caelius never seemed to like direct questions, so he would indirectly try.

He had a sinking suspicion he was just going to be thrown out of the office.

Well, at least he wasn't thrown out of the office.

Wincing, it was almost as if the Death Leader had read into his mind about his thoughts about telling a few people. His abilities to do such were mildly terrifying. Still he grabbed the folder when tossed at him, confirming that inside were blank sheets of paper. Sigh. "I will fill this out and have it to you tomorrow. Sir." Quinn said tomorrow to give himself a little more wiggle room time wise.

What was even more curious, and completely terrifying, was the prospect that the 'resource' inside of a few of them was still to be cultivated if they ended up dying. Quinn suddenly felt like a lamb to the slaughter.

"Sir if i may ask, may i tell the others with.... the same resources, what happened so they may at least be prepared and know what to watch for and to document?" And to research, he added to himself quietly. If Lucky, Gale, Otto, and Shiloh were aware of what happened they would know to be on their toes if it happened to them. If they met the man in the room... maybe they would be more prepared with what to ask instead of being put on the spot randomly. It was a gamble asking permission like this, but he knew 'removal' as a hunter pretty much meant 'i will shove my scythe into your face' and decided not to take chances, for now.

He refused to ignore the irony of the Death leader having an hourglass for exactly two minutes on his desk....

And scribbled furiously (with a pen he borrowed from said desk too.)