#immerwahrend

❝ You use your hands to partake in this course? ❞

Disbelieving gaze was brought to the food items at hand, guilty as charged; a hamburger and french fries were hardly the most sanitary consumables out there. However, witnessing the Noblesse use his fingers to eat that strangely shaped golden crisp called a french fry gave the Lord many doubts about the sanitation of this... thing. Why use hands when there were utensils available, even if one of them was questionably used to attempt at staking nobles so long ago?

❝ Cadis Etrama di Raizel, explain. Why would you willingly dirty your hands to eat this human food? What happened to the stakes you used before? ❞

              “...” A greeting where there is none. The kind of gesture that has grown rather typical of them with time. The visit is like any other, undressed of all the more annoying formalities that often come with seeing people--and maybe because of that, peaceful. The quiet of this place is astoundingly massive as Carvel always remembers it being, as comforting, as grand. Raizel is just as sobering to his mood as ever after a day of livelier company when the chief eyes him from the doorway with the slightest inclination of a nod. He toys with the vague idea of words, even if he would be loath to trouble the immaculate quiet now that he is here. His footsteps disturb almost nothing of it at least, when he comes sauntering in and lays down the weight of his coat on one high-backed chair. 

   ❝ -- Seems Frankenstein still isn't back yet. ❞ Two days since he’d disappeared. Where on earth had he wandered off to? Surely he would be alright, that menacing power was nothing to scoff at, but one did have to question. Nonetheless, the man whom the other referred to as Master didn’t appear overly concerned. Why? Did he know something they didn’t? 

   Speaking of. Catching Raizel’s figure from out of the corner of his eye, he notices him loitering around the kitchen. He seemed lost [ did he know how to use the appliances? ]. ❝ Are you hungry? I can make you some food if you want. ❞ They had packets of instant noodles in the cupboard, didn’t they? Sauntering over, he opens it up and-- Oh. Face blanks when he sees the amount stuffed into that tiny space [ who'd bought all this? ].

         ❝ Master, please. You need to rest. ❞ It fills him with dread to see him so feeble after a battle. Closer, it grows. His death, creeping ‘round the corner, waiting for the right moment to strike-- No, no. No. He would find a cure [ a promise made both to himself and his Lord ].

   ❝ Ah. Master, you've returned. ❞ Rising from his position on the sofa, forearm folding over stomach, head lightly dips in welcome. He’d received a text about it beforehand, the activities that would preoccupy his Master’s time 'till late eventide. And given the solemn expression inscribed upon his visage, the scientist could only presume the other had regrettably found himself beaten in yet another computer game. 

  Best refrain from asking how it went then. Instead, he would spend the next few days focusing on creating a new booklet with more information on how to win.

     E is not talkative by nature, and i--their time spent in Raskreia’s company often had bouts of silence, not unlike this. But whereas E had just about grasped the Lord’s habits and personality, the Noblesse is a very different story. They know of the noble’s reputation--of the troubles and obstacles he and his household have caused the Union of late. It speaks to his views and priorities, but not much to temperament, how to navigate a conversation with him, or if one should attempt to hold one.

     But as content as E would be to sit in silence until given direction, they are the one imposing upon the other’s time and space, so stepping out of their comfort zone is the least they can do.

@immerwahrend  - sMTH SMALL.

           ❝ What's with that face? Surprised you, have I? ❞ Peering down into widened eyes, faces dangerously close, the werewolf finds himself carrying Raizel’s weight with nought more than ease. ❝ Didn’t even know you could look like that -- It’s cute. ❞ He’s cute. And how had Muzaka not seen it before? Soft skin, darkened hair that frames his friend’s face a little too perfectly, and those lips-- He could easily close the gap between them and kiss them. 

    Oh. Blinking, he hauls himself out of those thoughts. How intrusive [ where did they come from? ]. A distraction certainly wouldn’t be unwelcome at this point.

        Turning toward the open window, heel is placed on the sill. He could jump out if he wanted to. Take the other away from this stuffy old place, show him the world and all the beauty it possessed. ❝ Should I take you out for a while? We can go on a little tour across my favourite countries. ❞ These walls were too oppressive - Raizel surely deserved to run free a short while, find himself. Because here, within Lukedonia, that would remain impossible with how people acted ‘round him. 

he looks like a good new friends for Rai |: