DANGER, HIGH VOLTAGE!

Such a sincere declaration of concern comes at a surprise for the inventor. He was wounded, yes - but he thought he had done quite a good job of keeping the hunter occupied before they gave up on him to pursue someone else. He crouches in a safe spot, looking up at the seer before him.

“...You don’t need to worry about me,” Luca replies sincerely. “There’s lots more to be concerned about right now than how I’m holding up.”

          victor had slowly become aware of a common theme within the manor, one that he observed many others experiencing. one that he himself had begun to feel, even with wick at his side. loneliness wasn’t foreign to him at all! but he was more familiar with the opposite, often feeling too smothered by the company of others, wishing to be left to his own thoughts. 

     lately he had started growing restless, succumbing to the urge to wander the halls of the large manor, eyes lingering on any fellow survivor they met along the way. he’d never wanted any sort of conversation with them, more just to… remind himself he’s not alone? when did that matter, he’d always preferred it that way, just him & wick, no need for anyone else… what a sad thing. before the POSTMAN realizes it, his feet have brought him through the foyer & his hand eases open the door to the dining hall, peering in with the slightest bit of hope he’d see someone else.

          & he did, gaze falling to the brunet seated near the window, tinkering with some unknown object in his hands. momentary relief; victor would not linger, planning on simply nodding his hello & exiting as quickly as he had entered. but then he’s acknowledged, the clear pause between only two words making him assume the “PRISONER” ( luca basla; he made sure to memorize the names of those he were to deliver things to ) had never learned his name. he’s only a bit pleased with that thought, proved to him that his attempts at isolation were successful for the most part.      ‘ victor. ’ hand spells out his name, testing the waters at first to see if luca understood before he retrieves his note pad, one step turning to two until he’s arrived at the edge of the table with pen still in hand. the paper is offered to the inventor, victor’s smile returning to its rightful place upon his lips.      it’s victor. i had been exploring the manor, i was not aware you were here!      i can leave you be if you would prefer, i would not want to bother you while you worked.

A slight tinge of relief courses through him when he realizes that he probably never did learn the postman’s name outside of his title. Thinking about it, how often did he see him around in the manor? He gave off a polite yet reserved air, an attitude not uncommon among fellow residents of the manor. It was almost strange to him how so many people who kept to themselves were stuck in an endless game of cooperation, but perhaps this mysterious Baron enjoyed such irony.

His good eye focuses on the hand signals that he uses when spelling his name out to him. Though he recognized it to be sign language, he wasn’t familiar with it; some letters, however, he could fortunately make out. V-I-C... O...? Vic. That was a good, short nickname. He would have to remember that to write down later.

Eyebrows raise as he steps closer with a notepad in hand. Luca gently takes the paper as it’s offered to him, mumbling to himself as he reads out what’s written on it. So he wasn’t totally off the mark after all - that, too, was a relieving thought. These days he found himself grateful for the smallest mercies.

”Victor, huh. Nice name! I can’t remember if you know already, but I’m Luca - I actually just came here to kind of unwind,” explains the inventor as he looks back up at Victor. He leans back in his chair, making it nearly teeter on its hind legs. “You’re not bothering me! To be honest, it’s pretty nice to have company. No one usually...”

This emotion was not foreign to Luca. The inventor had pushed through it time and time again - but that didn’t make it ache any less.

In these times, vague flashes of moments before it all came crumbling down would come back to him, mere suggestions of what his life must have been like. They never lingered for long, their impressions dreamy and near-indecipherable; he couldn’t possibly hope to connect the dots, and had long since given up trying. Thinking about it too hard made his head ache.

Now, though, he understood that this must have followed him through his life. Such was the fate of a brilliant mind, wasn’t it...? That familiar sensation of staring out the window and longing for a bit of companionship nagged at him. Still, no matter how much he desired it, he had convinced himself he wasn’t deserving of such pleasantries. Here, he fidgeted with the contraption in his hands (having little purpose except keeping his hands occupied) as he lounged back in the manor’s dining room and looked past the glass at the scenery outdoors. The sound of footsteps dragged him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see... who was this again? Luca bit back a grimace as he tried to recall the postman’s name. (Did he ever know?)

“Mike!”

His voice carries a pleased inflection when he notices the acrobat dangling next to him. Despite the possibility that he could have been there for quite some time, Luca only notices him as soon as he speaks up.

Though unrest had dulled his senses ever so slightly, he couldn’t help the crooked grin that stretched across his face as the mage cupped his face in her hands. It seemed time had run away from him again... it was that time of day, wasn’t it? Bird calls and the bright rays of early morning spilling through the window told him as such; he couldn’t be bothered to check the clock.