"Though I try not to be here before noon, I did make it there for breakfast that day." Damian said nonchalantly, taking a seat on one of the steps, as the enchanted broom came sweeping by. His work outside the ministry building kept him on the graveyard shift, because the ghastly and the ghouls rarely kept regular business hours. Showing up midday, half asleep, earned him a reputation as lazy to those who did not know the nature of his occupation.
"The pancakes were quite delectable. Even the fountain spouting a viscous red liquid couldn't bring me down from the heights of syrup induced joy." Finding the cold stone rather comfortable against his back, the man sprawled out on the step, letting his head hang off the edge, observing the chamber upside down. "I was actually rather happy to see it. My previous hypothesis was that he was trapped in the ministry. Attacking out of desperation. But the theatrics shows there is more method to his madness. Or, at the very least, he isn't acting alone."
Though it was grim business, he always did it with a smile. It helped to know that he had the epitome of professionalism watching his back.
__________________
In over his head |