"Dare I inquire how long it usually takes for the Reaper to get a 'job'?" The noble asked as she tapped her fan against her lips. "I would imagine the wait would be rather dreadful."
A prolonged silence falls as the Shadow processes the ascended noblewoman’s words, slowly turning over the strange query word-by-word within the depths of his mind. His expectations rise faintly, hoping for some question worth his time to ponder….only to promptly sour and crumble as he grasps her meaning.
Was this some attempt at humor?
The pair of hovering chains release a clattering protest as the Reaper swings his head forwards, setting a deadly glare upon the audacious Persona’s face. The monstrous revolvers raise slightly with a twitch of his iron grip, and his words are sharp and biting as he retorts.“Never more dreadful than your fate…if you continue…to test me.”