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All Death Hunters would receive a text on that particular morning:



It was a good thing he hadn't discovered instant messaging programs or his messages would probably be considered a lot more passive aggressive than simply aggressive.

The Death lead would be waiting, seated at his side of the perfectly round table. A pile of folders sat next to him, with the name of all active Death Hunters. Mark sat to his right, and then Oz next to Mark. Both of them had semi-attentive looks, though Mark was just pretending to be really attentive to his cellphone while writing an rp tag his very important meta.

Rep slunk in like a dog who had gotten into the garbage and sat very quietly as close to the back of the room as he could manage and as far from Mark and his collateral damage claims as it was humanly possible to be.

Ripley made his way into the room with absolutely no fanfare, and took a seat closer to the division leads, mostly because he didn't care to expend an awful lot of energy trying to avoid them.

The message came a few days after Shu was allowed to left the infirmary. She still didn't recover from the loneliness and the thought of self-hating. Her best friend didn't come to visit her at all, the girl that she thought was her closest friend. It gave her a huge shock, she tried to convince herself that she was just busy but it couldn't help when she saw the hunter chatting with a new face when she passed the cafeteria for a cake. She shortly hid herself behind a pillar, she looked so happy without her. That night, having tears like drops of pearl, she swallowed her first cake after she recovered.

She avoided Noemi, like if she didn't see and ask her, she would still be her best friend.

The Death hunter checked her phone and looked at the message, a meeting with the Death Lead again. Last time, she was still a useless trainee, she promoted but it didn't mean she was of much a useful resource to the division. She knew nothing. Like when the people surrounded her changed, like what mistakes she made to worsen their relationship, she didn't know a bit of it.

The smile on her face was weak, like a piece of glass standing wobbly, it could be broken with just some words. Questions jot down on her notebook, she felt she wanted to know many things. What kind of artifacts were causing the infection? What kind of people currently own them? What they can do to avoid the situation going to the worst case? She was more than happy to focus on hunter things, rather than thinking why some people she loved didn't show up to visit her.

Solia sat her dainty butt down, flipped open a folder and began to write.

Occasionally, she'd make faces at her writing before continuing on.

Horace entered the room, noting who entered first and where they sat interestedly. After some deliberation, he picked a seat near-ish the Death leads too, nodding at Ripley. He was thankful for the round table, it let him people watch during the meeting without too much trouble. He had no idea what to expect, but he'd brought a few notebooks - full of nothing terribly important, but willing to be filled. A round table... he almost made a knight joke, but kept his mouth shut instead.

He wondered if Mark still had the jetpack.

Gale side-eyed Quinn, but said nothing.

Quinn glanced back, and after a brief second, pointed towards a fresh scar that was just recently a bleeding bullet hole, a present from Gale. A second later he gave a thumbs up, and a shrug of his shoulders. Life division and their quick healing really was amazing.