The doctor walked into the Death Room, a cigarette in his mouth. He smiled, looking at the reaper. "I haven't seen you in a while. What have you been up to lately?" He asked.
Death's image flickered onto his diligent mirror the moment the door was opened, it never seemed to care if his number was written on its surface anymore. The god sighed outwardly from behind his expressionless mask. "Clearly something not meant for you to know." He answered in a dull tone. Death never really spared the doctor an upbeat greeting or goofy attitude; he never needs to.










