@rayshippouuchiha Congratuations, you won my insomnia’s hyper fixation for the night.
There was one big benefit to working at the REPO organization, Assistant Necromancer R.D. mused, standing at the side of the big vat of ‘mysterious red fluid’ (Probably the Hemo-divisions spare blood they stole from medical storage. Or janitorial returning lost fluids again. One of them. Until he had a Blood Mage step in and check, he wasn’t planning to touch it.)
R.D. took a deep swig from the oversized coffee mug in his hand- shaped from the bones of one of his earliest failed experiments, the sealed skull of a fire demon kept the chai latte perfectly warmed, without being scalding.
Where was he?
Right, big benefit of working at REPO.
The dress code, and the loose definition thereof. As long as it was mildly modest, wasn’t an active safety hazard, and didn’t flash unmentional bits at random people who didn’t want it, meant that being called in, literally from his bed, meant he only had to grab his non slip work shoes and a lab coat before getting summoned in.
He glanced down at his vibrant fuzzy pajama bottoms: covered with the gaudiest blue, green, and teal shark print, and the loose black and gray lab coat and black band shirt that completed his ‘3AM’ appearance and then looked back up and took another swig of chai.
“Boss!” looking over, R.D. tracked his personal assistant: Benny B. Ones, the gleaming white bone and carved enamel designs flickering as the skeleton tumbled and jogged around the room, ducking around a cart of bone fragments that an apprentice osteo member was transporting.
“Benny. Why am I here before noon.” The skeleton reached into his ribcage and flicked through a binder that was stapled to the left side of his spine. “We’ve got several memo’s from upper management, specifying both intern policy, recruitment drives, and the plans for the Inevitable Lich Conversion Drive.”
“The ILCD is still on standby. Fatality rates are low enough that we don't need it yet.” R.D. flipped through the memo’s with only mild concern. “And if we don’t get enough Interns, those rates aren’t gonna stay steady. Medical keeps taking anyone with general healing abilities and the flesh crafters, considering they run the HRT and Body Customization wing, which is making the reconstructive procedures for the actual dead people a nightmare. Trying to get three Necro-specialists to work on the same problem at any point in time is a bitch.”
Benny nodded, and rummaged through the various pouches and files in his chest, before pulling out what was very clearly an incident report: considering the edges of the paper were laminated with bright yellow and black hazard print.
“And there’s also this!”
Taking the report, R.D. gave it a long look, skimming over the basics until he hit the actual ‘Incident’ description… before pausing.
“Why the hell do we have the reconstructed remains of six T-rexes in the first place? And who let the Bone Crew at them?”
Sighing, R.D. folded the paper up and started marching through the hallway towards the Graveyard warehouses, gaudy Pj’s leading the charge while his labcoat gave a melodramatic ‘swoosh’ behind him.
“I swear, it’s always something here.”
