Name's not Millie. It's George. Or Georgia if you want to get technical. One of my friends used to insist on it, only it sounded more like Jaaawgeeah.
There was a whole thing, at home where I wasn't supposed to give people the real name. But I've been here long enough to see that it's alright. None of you seem crazy or whatever. So, yeah. George. Still basically grumpy cat.
Carry on about your regualr scheduled business.
[Command]
The bit I didn't want to throw out there?
I'm a Reaper. Like an actual 'It is thy time' Reaper.
I get lists. Of people scheduled to die and I take their soul before they do. And then help them cross over.
I'm telling you for a few reasons. If I have to do this here, you have to let me. Because believe me, the alternative is worse. And because you have to promise, all of you, not to ask me who is on my list. Not to ask me to stop it, not to interfere with it. Just do what you'd do anyway. If its meant to happen I'll be there when its meant to happen.
...And uh. Yeah. Emerson. I got to him on the way to the prison. Takes a touch. Just a touch. He didn't say anything really. But I can tell you the little I remember?
[Lydia]
So I told them. Mostly cause being a Reaper on my own sucks.