Enter one Undead, foul mouthed, (Somewhat) bitter, Warlock.

[dembonyhips]

"So here's one for you." This comes from a shortish, pale woman who for all points and purposes, one among the living dead at least, once you give her more than a passing glance, anyways. "What the hell would you ask of Death?"

Really, she's a really pale woman. If anyone just glanced at her, they'd probably guess that she'd been sick or something. As it was, she was one of the luckier ex-Scourge in that she was largely intact. She wore a long, floor length robe, and had long black hair. Her eyes had a distinct, bright yellow glow to them. "It's a fucking saying among my 'people', and I'm fucking curious."

((As a fair warning, Fortyskey is indeed among the undead in the Warcraft sense of it. She's also a warlock, specializing in fel-tainted, destructive fire magic and demon summoning-slash-controlling. Though no demons are with her at present. Because of this, to those that sense magic, her powers probably don't really feel right at all, to say nothing about the fact that her soul's trapped in a living-dead body that's stuck the way it is.

Also: She cusses. A lot. Frequently using the F-word and many of its vulgar four letter friends. If you want me to dial it back some when I reply to you, just lemme know. I'm more than okay with being accommodating in that sense, as I know all folks are different.))

A memorial of sorts

[sumarusfinest]

The resident Nexus police officer looks a lot less formal than he usually is. He's missing the usual suit and tie, dressed in all black--button up and slacks.

He sets a vase of lilies down on a table gently.

"Has anyone been able to determine the full extent of the damage and...casualties here in the Nexus?"

He's been cleaning up in Sumaru since the attack, and feels bad he's only now checking in.