[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=b8860b]Reginald Keystone[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]http://33.media.tumblr.com/76ca11af5771405a055ca9291e9e4b2b/tumblr_nvhilyU39J1qcxymno4_500.gif[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=b8860b][b]Location:[/b][/color] Anglo American Hospital
[color=b8860b][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A [/center][hr][hr]

	The Lord Major listened with as stoic of a face he could give at that time. He had lost someone very close to him, seemingly for a second time, and this Information Desk Jockey could only give him the most mechanical of answers, as read like small engine repair directions. He felt his own sense of affrontery rise within him, and even dared open his mouth to speak a good number of discouraging words to the man, but hesitated. The chap was only doing his job. He was doing so efficiently and was not involved in the least with Reginald's family nor his command. Instead, he offered a basic, [color=b8860b]"Thank you."[/color] and began to follow the man's directions. 

	Striding toward the basement, he looked back to George and posed a question. Some two of them, really. [color=b8860b]"My Peter, if you would Mr. Benaszewski, did he die a clean death? Honorable, decent, [i]for something[/i]?"[/color] Reginald had his own notions about death. One could say that he longed for it, under the proper circumstances. Everyone else that he flew with before the Great War had passed on, and most of his buddies during had already gone as well. Many died for the greatest purpose of all: The promise that, if they won that day, they might have their families live in tranquility for the rest of their days. "The War To End All Wars", they called it. Such a notion was silly, but the most unlikely notions were the ones worth dying for. Sometimes, Reginald just wished that he had been taken by crash or by bullet years ago. 

        He boarded the lift and heeded the advice of the monotone information receptionist. Second basement, end of hallway, left. Maintaining his proper, broad shouldered, stiff upper lippage was beginning to become tiresome, though as a proper British officer he could maintain for quite a while in adverse circumstances if need be. This was to be tested as he finally advanced upon someone fitting the description of the alleged Morgue Clerk, and he addressed accordingly, [color=b8860b]"I am the Lord Major Reginald I. Keystone, come to see to the affairs of my nephew, the Lord Captain Peter Keystone. Do I have the privilege of addressing the man who may facilitate this proceeding?"[/color]