(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

experience what it would be like to be a Dustman."
The needletip punched through gray and partly dessicated flesh, looping
back over into a fine, even stitch. Seladril's fingers, by all appearances much
too delicate for such coarse and foul work, were nimble and practiced. With
the other hand she raised the zombie's arm as she sewed, binding flesh ever
tighter to flesh, "Like a good Sensate I gave myself over fully to the
experience, and over time I learned and accepted the dark of life and death.
Many of the Dustmen were skeptical. Some were openly scornful. I didn't
blame them of course. Sensates can be so fickle when it comes to
everything: taste, touch, feel, hear, smell... the quest to capture the passing
phantasms of this shadow of life is all they will ever know. If I could feel pity
for them, I would."
Muttering an incantation, she touched a finger to the zombie's arm, and
with a flicker of black flame the wound sealed itself shut.
"Zombie 918, finish cleaning this slab," she commanded, then turned to
Soego with a smile, "A young man like you shouldn't waste his time on such
things. Come, let us discuss some lessons."
Soego gripped the edge of the slab just as the zombie began scrubbing. With
the sudden leap in his pulse he was almost certain he was about to collapse
at that moment.
But when a soft hand took his own, Soego swallowed. He knew he was
stronger than this. This was his moment to impress, "But isn't it somewhat
contradictory for you to be a Dustman?"
"Contradictory?" the edges of her lips twitched playfully as they walked out
the arch.
"Well, yes," Soego's voice strengthened, "You obviously seem to be one who
enjoys life. And you gather potential initiates by inflaming their passions,
and urge them to kill those very passions that inspire them to join the
Dustmen in the first place."
"Truly. You are as bright as I expected. There is much potential in you as a
Dustman if you can be so direct. Few are so bold as to question one who
outranks them," Seladril smiled in delight, "But I do not enjoy 'life.' I live it.
That is all that can be expected of anyone, Dustman and living alike. No
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