Nicola

“And the wolf ate time.”
― Guy Morpuss, Black Lake Manor

“Please rate your level of annoyance on a scale of one to ten."
"Are you serious?"
"We can't proceed with intake until you answer the question."
"Uh ... five," he said, "No—six; the question made it worse."
"Have you experienced any unfair treatment since being marked unsavory? Anyone refusing you service, or in any way infringing upon your rights as a citizen?"
The rote way in which she asked the question made him want to smack that tablet out of her hand. At least she could have pretended to sare about his answer the way she had pretended to smile.
"People looked at me like I've just killed their cat."
She looked at him as if he's just told her he actually had killed a few cats. "Unfortunately, I can't do anything about the way people look at you. But if your rights are ever infringed upon, it's important that you let your probation officer know."
"Wait—you're not my probation officer?"
She sighed. “I’m your intake officer. You’ll meet your probation officer after we’re done with intake.”
“Will I have to take a number again?”
“Yes.”
“Then please change my annoyance level to nine.”
― Neal Shusterman, Thunderhead

“I should glean you right here and bring your heart to Constantine!"
"He'd probably eat it."
"Probably," Citra had to admit.”
― Neal Shusterman, Thunderhead

“Scythe Anastasia was equally dumbfounded.
"You?" she said.
"No," Morrison blurted, "not me! I mean, yes, it's me, but I'm not the Toll, I mean." Any hope of strong, silent intimidation was gone. Now he was little more than a stammering imbecile, which is how he always felt around Scythe Anastasia.
"What are you even doing here?" she asked.
He started to explain, but realized it was way too long a story for the moment. And besides, he was sure her story was a better one.
The other scythe in her entourage—Amazonian by the look of his robe—chimed in, several beats behind the curve. "You mean to say you two know each other?"
But before either of them could answer, Mendoza came up behind Morrison, tapping him on the shoulder.
"As usual, you're in the way, Morrison," he grumbled, having completely missed the conversation.
Morrison stepped aside and allowed the curate to exit. And the moment Mendoza saw Anastasia, he became just as befuddled as Morrison. Although his eyes darted wildly, he managed to hold his silence. Now they stood on either side of the entrance to the cave in their usual formation. Then the Toll emerged from the cave between them.
He paused short, just as Morrison and Mendoza had, gaping in a way that a holy man probably never should.
"Okay," said Scythe Anastasia. "Now I know I've lost my mind.”
― Neal Shusterman, The Toll