Hela spoke like she'd wanted to become some kind of poet instead of a doctor or a coroner. Perhaps she'd drop everything and become the next Thoreau or Blake. Possibly with less civil disobedience, but who really knew.
"Death's a dick," John said with a lopsided sort of smile. He wasn't offended by her occupation, why should he have been? It seemed perfectly normal to be a doctor or a coroner; her choices were her own. Either way what she did was certainly more honorable than what he did. She could practically just fit into the community image, couldn't she? "But someone's got to deal with him and his, yeah?" He ashed his cigarette lazily before sipping his GnT.