“That would be me miss, yes.

Bronach's brows rose quite a bit in shock when Johnny mentioned the traps being set around the Ministry, thankful she didn't venture too far out after dark. "Have ya thought about using some of them electric video doorbell cameras on the trees? Or hunting cameras? Something that can be hidden, but will catch the feckin shitehead in the process?" Her father had used the hunter and door cams for the chicken coop and farmstand, the latter needing it more often once the disease hit.

"Good ta know about the beverage. I'll make sure to keep some stocked, just in case ya ever need a night cap." Her smile wasn't overly flirtatious; on the contrary, it was small, and very tired, as the time of day finally hit her. "Speaking of, gonna revisit that vodka." She mumbled with a small yawn. "I'll, uh..catcha ye around later, aye?"

The underside edge of the bedframe pressed into his back with an uncomfortable bite but he didn't care. He kept his forehead down and pressed against his knees while the tears flowing from his face and drips from his nose made his pajama pants resemble a wet tissue more than pants. There were so many regrets flowing through his head at once. Why did he have to wake up from that feral mindset? He should've been left in that cell until Secundo or Copia or, Hell, even Perpetua deemed it necessary to just pull the damn plug, take him out behind the barn and end his misery. If they sent him back to Hell it would have been only a matter of time before he was recaptured and stuck back in another cell. Maybe if he hadn't had been so outlandish in Europe... But if something he had done many times before was the cause of his downwards spiral... Swiss shook his head against his knees. If that was what did him in, it would have been only another matter of time before he snapped elsewhere...

He sobbed against his knees, wishing he could have been one of the many kits who didn't manage to make it beyond their first year. Swiss could barely fathom anymore just the sheer number of lives that would have been better off without him surviving more than that. Tens of thousands of ghouls who had found their lives beaten in or stolen under his claws throughout his climb up through Hell's rings may had been spared. The equally as grand number of lives he didn't touch directly would have been left to flourish. Whatever "good" he might've accomplished in his pitiful decade long reign on the topside was nothing but a drop of water in an ocean of curdled blood.

“Well not always… theres quite a lot I don’t get to do anymore. A lot of practices are out dated that I might have started with, even if they seemed perfectly fine. Some just ended up getting more complicated because of new laws getting put into place to protect workers or business’s. Not much I can do these days that I picked up then. Have to go out to clinics and classes to pick up new information and practices.” There was a small shrug. Its not like it was an inconvenience it was just often times a lot of work to get done, especially with keeping on-top of best practices and appearances.

Listening to the younger ghoul he nodded slowly, thoughtfulness in his eyes. There was not much in the way of wisdom that he could offer, at-least not in this moment. His childhood was fairly mundane, despite where he grew up and the type of life his parents lead. He didn’t really have siblings. If his parents had more kids after he left, he never knew them. And while he made friends with bad people, he was usually the worst of them…. Honestly the frost ghoul likely learned about Jeremiah at some point in school, especially considering the body count he had racked up.

“It happens. Unfortunately, life for everyone cannot be all virtuous and perfect. As much as we want to try and be just that… there is often too many obstacles in our way somedays…”

“I’d like to say that I’ve been good, or at least a decent person. But I think some days it is quite obvious where I grew up, despite my best efforts.”