Just realized that I posted the reply without finishing it lol. I've now added Dante getting checked out like I originally meant to.
Roleplay
Tell stories and roleplay in the world of Flight Rising.
TOPIC | timeless, deathless, boundless // 1x1
Just realized that I posted the reply without finishing it lol. I've now added Dante getting checked out like I originally meant to.
*steals the full grown man*
The difference between Dante's floor, with all its intentional silence and careful curation, and the main floor is startling. The elevator opens up to an incredible amount of activity, and Janek resists the urge to snap his finger to the 'close doors' button on the elevator. Oh, but did he hate crowds. Perhaps it was the reaper-like profession of his, that itch to cull the masses in a very un-Scythe approved way. Janek's face took on something akin to a slight grimace, but he keeps careful pace with Dante's eager stride.
The help desk employee makes quick work of freeing Dante from the hospital, her quick efficient fingers typing out the slip that quickly finds its way into a pocket. Janek eyed it with a raised brow. When they step away from the desk, Janek listens to Dante's comment with the same amount of detachment.
"My ride," he replied dryly. "Come along, then." Janek nods towards the way he'd originally arrived in and begins making a quick path through the crowd. His imposing, swift pace is enough to part the way, civilians either eagerly getting out of his path or subconsciously doing so when they see him coming in their periphery.
The parking garage adjacent to the hospital is only a few stories high, but Janek is on the first level. His car—his "ride"—is mundane, plain. One would almost mistake it for a rental, what with its unfeeling interior and meticulous cleanliness. It clicks open when Janek nears, and the Scythe gestures to the passenger side door as if to say 'it's open.'
The difference between Dante's floor, with all its intentional silence and careful curation, and the main floor is startling. The elevator opens up to an incredible amount of activity, and Janek resists the urge to snap his finger to the 'close doors' button on the elevator. Oh, but did he hate crowds. Perhaps it was the reaper-like profession of his, that itch to cull the masses in a very un-Scythe approved way. Janek's face took on something akin to a slight grimace, but he keeps careful pace with Dante's eager stride.
The help desk employee makes quick work of freeing Dante from the hospital, her quick efficient fingers typing out the slip that quickly finds its way into a pocket. Janek eyed it with a raised brow. When they step away from the desk, Janek listens to Dante's comment with the same amount of detachment.
"My ride," he replied dryly. "Come along, then." Janek nods towards the way he'd originally arrived in and begins making a quick path through the crowd. His imposing, swift pace is enough to part the way, civilians either eagerly getting out of his path or subconsciously doing so when they see him coming in their periphery.
The parking garage adjacent to the hospital is only a few stories high, but Janek is on the first level. His car—his "ride"—is mundane, plain. One would almost mistake it for a rental, what with its unfeeling interior and meticulous cleanliness. It clicks open when Janek nears, and the Scythe gestures to the passenger side door as if to say 'it's open.'
*steals the full grown man*
The difference between Dante's floor, with all its intentional silence and careful curation, and the main floor is startling. The elevator opens up to an incredible amount of activity, and Janek resists the urge to snap his finger to the 'close doors' button on the elevator. Oh, but did he hate crowds. Perhaps it was the reaper-like profession of his, that itch to cull the masses in a very un-Scythe approved way. Janek's face took on something akin to a slight grimace, but he keeps careful pace with Dante's eager stride.
The help desk employee makes quick work of freeing Dante from the hospital, her quick efficient fingers typing out the slip that quickly finds its way into a pocket. Janek eyed it with a raised brow. When they step away from the desk, Janek listens to Dante's comment with the same amount of detachment.
"My ride," he replied dryly. "Come along, then." Janek nods towards the way he'd originally arrived in and begins making a quick path through the crowd. His imposing, swift pace is enough to part the way, civilians either eagerly getting out of his path or subconsciously doing so when they see him coming in their periphery.
The parking garage adjacent to the hospital is only a few stories high, but Janek is on the first level. His car—his "ride"—is mundane, plain. One would almost mistake it for a rental, what with its unfeeling interior and meticulous cleanliness. It clicks open when Janek nears, and the Scythe gestures to the passenger side door as if to say 'it's open.'
The difference between Dante's floor, with all its intentional silence and careful curation, and the main floor is startling. The elevator opens up to an incredible amount of activity, and Janek resists the urge to snap his finger to the 'close doors' button on the elevator. Oh, but did he hate crowds. Perhaps it was the reaper-like profession of his, that itch to cull the masses in a very un-Scythe approved way. Janek's face took on something akin to a slight grimace, but he keeps careful pace with Dante's eager stride.
The help desk employee makes quick work of freeing Dante from the hospital, her quick efficient fingers typing out the slip that quickly finds its way into a pocket. Janek eyed it with a raised brow. When they step away from the desk, Janek listens to Dante's comment with the same amount of detachment.
"My ride," he replied dryly. "Come along, then." Janek nods towards the way he'd originally arrived in and begins making a quick path through the crowd. His imposing, swift pace is enough to part the way, civilians either eagerly getting out of his path or subconsciously doing so when they see him coming in their periphery.
The parking garage adjacent to the hospital is only a few stories high, but Janek is on the first level. His car—his "ride"—is mundane, plain. One would almost mistake it for a rental, what with its unfeeling interior and meticulous cleanliness. It clicks open when Janek nears, and the Scythe gestures to the passenger side door as if to say 'it's open.'
I mean... it's not stealing if you have permission, right? :>
Dante seats himself in the car with visible curiosity. He looks over its interior, openly searching for insight into the man seated beside him, only to be met with the impenetrable wall of his partners efforts. The carpets have been vacuumed, and the controls cleaned. No trash remains in the car, even in the form of specks wedged into crevices or papers lost underneath seats. It's almost hostile in its pristineness. If it wasn't for the absence of that brand-new rental scent, he'd wonder if this was Janek's car at all.
As it is, Dante can't help but examine the scene that Janek has curated for him. If this is how the car always is, then Janek must be a very regulated man. The strict type, with the willpower to stop himself from straying for the sake of conveniency. It's an intriguing persona, one that Dante can't help but hope for, even if dealing with someone with the respect to clean their car would be easier. After all, he's never been one for easy. What's life without a few trials, a few thrills?
Of course, it's too much to hold their outing up for his investigation, so Dante makes himself at home, unfazed by the fact that he's in another's car while he glances around. When he speaks, it's only to make a light comment. "You're very meticulous," he says.
By this point, Dante is reclining against his seat after buckling up, shoulders loose and relaxed as he informs Janek of his address. "Though, I suppose you may have already known that," he muses.
Dante seats himself in the car with visible curiosity. He looks over its interior, openly searching for insight into the man seated beside him, only to be met with the impenetrable wall of his partners efforts. The carpets have been vacuumed, and the controls cleaned. No trash remains in the car, even in the form of specks wedged into crevices or papers lost underneath seats. It's almost hostile in its pristineness. If it wasn't for the absence of that brand-new rental scent, he'd wonder if this was Janek's car at all.
As it is, Dante can't help but examine the scene that Janek has curated for him. If this is how the car always is, then Janek must be a very regulated man. The strict type, with the willpower to stop himself from straying for the sake of conveniency. It's an intriguing persona, one that Dante can't help but hope for, even if dealing with someone with the respect to clean their car would be easier. After all, he's never been one for easy. What's life without a few trials, a few thrills?
Of course, it's too much to hold their outing up for his investigation, so Dante makes himself at home, unfazed by the fact that he's in another's car while he glances around. When he speaks, it's only to make a light comment. "You're very meticulous," he says.
By this point, Dante is reclining against his seat after buckling up, shoulders loose and relaxed as he informs Janek of his address. "Though, I suppose you may have already known that," he muses.
I mean... it's not stealing if you have permission, right? :>
Dante seats himself in the car with visible curiosity. He looks over its interior, openly searching for insight into the man seated beside him, only to be met with the impenetrable wall of his partners efforts. The carpets have been vacuumed, and the controls cleaned. No trash remains in the car, even in the form of specks wedged into crevices or papers lost underneath seats. It's almost hostile in its pristineness. If it wasn't for the absence of that brand-new rental scent, he'd wonder if this was Janek's car at all.
As it is, Dante can't help but examine the scene that Janek has curated for him. If this is how the car always is, then Janek must be a very regulated man. The strict type, with the willpower to stop himself from straying for the sake of conveniency. It's an intriguing persona, one that Dante can't help but hope for, even if dealing with someone with the respect to clean their car would be easier. After all, he's never been one for easy. What's life without a few trials, a few thrills?
Of course, it's too much to hold their outing up for his investigation, so Dante makes himself at home, unfazed by the fact that he's in another's car while he glances around. When he speaks, it's only to make a light comment. "You're very meticulous," he says.
By this point, Dante is reclining against his seat after buckling up, shoulders loose and relaxed as he informs Janek of his address. "Though, I suppose you may have already known that," he muses.
Dante seats himself in the car with visible curiosity. He looks over its interior, openly searching for insight into the man seated beside him, only to be met with the impenetrable wall of his partners efforts. The carpets have been vacuumed, and the controls cleaned. No trash remains in the car, even in the form of specks wedged into crevices or papers lost underneath seats. It's almost hostile in its pristineness. If it wasn't for the absence of that brand-new rental scent, he'd wonder if this was Janek's car at all.
As it is, Dante can't help but examine the scene that Janek has curated for him. If this is how the car always is, then Janek must be a very regulated man. The strict type, with the willpower to stop himself from straying for the sake of conveniency. It's an intriguing persona, one that Dante can't help but hope for, even if dealing with someone with the respect to clean their car would be easier. After all, he's never been one for easy. What's life without a few trials, a few thrills?
Of course, it's too much to hold their outing up for his investigation, so Dante makes himself at home, unfazed by the fact that he's in another's car while he glances around. When he speaks, it's only to make a light comment. "You're very meticulous," he says.
By this point, Dante is reclining against his seat after buckling up, shoulders loose and relaxed as he informs Janek of his address. "Though, I suppose you may have already known that," he muses.
mentally picturing them at some point sitting in dead silence (because Janek doesnt place music in the car for s u r e) in the middle of gridlock traffic
Janek slid into the car with a comfortable ease, looking marginally less agitated just by simply being somewhere familiar. Notably, he locked the car doors the second both were closed, and then eyed Dante making himself at home in the passenger seat. He seemed unfazed by the others blatant curiosity, eyeballing the admittedly sterile space.
“I am aware,” Janek replied blandly. He started the car, the engine rushing to life with the push of a button. “Your apartment first?” He typed in the address he’d already familiarized himself with into the GPS, hoping the stop would actually be quick. Despite Dante’s interjections that being beside Janek was safest, it still felt like a moderately foolish idea to take the victim of an assassination attempt back to the scene of the crime.
“What paperwork do you need so badly?” he asked too, beginning to ease the car out of its parking spot. The parking garage was full at this hour, but there was no one to compete for space with as he drove out and into the mid-morning day. The sun was spackled with a cloud or two, wisping things that drifted lazily across the sky.
The part of the city they were in was a busy one, but Janek seemed to find it tolerable to navigate bumper-to-bumper traffic than the overcrowded activity of the hospital. The stream of city noises—honking, music, strange odors coming from other vehicles—was not something Janek found himself to mind.
Janek slid into the car with a comfortable ease, looking marginally less agitated just by simply being somewhere familiar. Notably, he locked the car doors the second both were closed, and then eyed Dante making himself at home in the passenger seat. He seemed unfazed by the others blatant curiosity, eyeballing the admittedly sterile space.
“I am aware,” Janek replied blandly. He started the car, the engine rushing to life with the push of a button. “Your apartment first?” He typed in the address he’d already familiarized himself with into the GPS, hoping the stop would actually be quick. Despite Dante’s interjections that being beside Janek was safest, it still felt like a moderately foolish idea to take the victim of an assassination attempt back to the scene of the crime.
“What paperwork do you need so badly?” he asked too, beginning to ease the car out of its parking spot. The parking garage was full at this hour, but there was no one to compete for space with as he drove out and into the mid-morning day. The sun was spackled with a cloud or two, wisping things that drifted lazily across the sky.
The part of the city they were in was a busy one, but Janek seemed to find it tolerable to navigate bumper-to-bumper traffic than the overcrowded activity of the hospital. The stream of city noises—honking, music, strange odors coming from other vehicles—was not something Janek found himself to mind.
mentally picturing them at some point sitting in dead silence (because Janek doesnt place music in the car for s u r e) in the middle of gridlock traffic
Janek slid into the car with a comfortable ease, looking marginally less agitated just by simply being somewhere familiar. Notably, he locked the car doors the second both were closed, and then eyed Dante making himself at home in the passenger seat. He seemed unfazed by the others blatant curiosity, eyeballing the admittedly sterile space.
“I am aware,” Janek replied blandly. He started the car, the engine rushing to life with the push of a button. “Your apartment first?” He typed in the address he’d already familiarized himself with into the GPS, hoping the stop would actually be quick. Despite Dante’s interjections that being beside Janek was safest, it still felt like a moderately foolish idea to take the victim of an assassination attempt back to the scene of the crime.
“What paperwork do you need so badly?” he asked too, beginning to ease the car out of its parking spot. The parking garage was full at this hour, but there was no one to compete for space with as he drove out and into the mid-morning day. The sun was spackled with a cloud or two, wisping things that drifted lazily across the sky.
The part of the city they were in was a busy one, but Janek seemed to find it tolerable to navigate bumper-to-bumper traffic than the overcrowded activity of the hospital. The stream of city noises—honking, music, strange odors coming from other vehicles—was not something Janek found himself to mind.
Janek slid into the car with a comfortable ease, looking marginally less agitated just by simply being somewhere familiar. Notably, he locked the car doors the second both were closed, and then eyed Dante making himself at home in the passenger seat. He seemed unfazed by the others blatant curiosity, eyeballing the admittedly sterile space.
“I am aware,” Janek replied blandly. He started the car, the engine rushing to life with the push of a button. “Your apartment first?” He typed in the address he’d already familiarized himself with into the GPS, hoping the stop would actually be quick. Despite Dante’s interjections that being beside Janek was safest, it still felt like a moderately foolish idea to take the victim of an assassination attempt back to the scene of the crime.
“What paperwork do you need so badly?” he asked too, beginning to ease the car out of its parking spot. The parking garage was full at this hour, but there was no one to compete for space with as he drove out and into the mid-morning day. The sun was spackled with a cloud or two, wisping things that drifted lazily across the sky.
The part of the city they were in was a busy one, but Janek seemed to find it tolerable to navigate bumper-to-bumper traffic than the overcrowded activity of the hospital. The stream of city noises—honking, music, strange odors coming from other vehicles—was not something Janek found himself to mind.
"What do you take me for, a barbarian?" Dante asks, his expression unimpressed. "I do all my paperwork online. I'm going back to collect the papers I brainstorm on." Of course, the majority of his official work is also done on his tablet, brainstorming or not, but he enjoys the expressions he gets when he unveils the pet projects that even he would call genius, and to do that—to truly ascertain that they're viewed when and only he allows—he needs the privacy of pen and paper.
He doesn't say that, though. If Janek thinks him eccentric because of it then it's good that Dante's never shied away from being called offensive things. At the very least, Janek would be right. That's something more than most can say after Dante's done pressing their buttons.
Dante just wants to dance on his Scythe's bottom line though, rather than trampling on it. Janek's a pleasure even when he's only a little upset, even if Dante does revel in infuriating others.
With this thought done, Dante lets his eyes flutter shut, head in his hand and elbow on the window. It's an expression of lazy contentment, one that he maintains as Janek navigates the sea of cars. Janek must be a good driver because the ride is a smooth one.
Finally, they come to a stop, this one much longer than the previous ones, and golden eyes slowly blink open.
He doesn't say that, though. If Janek thinks him eccentric because of it then it's good that Dante's never shied away from being called offensive things. At the very least, Janek would be right. That's something more than most can say after Dante's done pressing their buttons.
Dante just wants to dance on his Scythe's bottom line though, rather than trampling on it. Janek's a pleasure even when he's only a little upset, even if Dante does revel in infuriating others.
With this thought done, Dante lets his eyes flutter shut, head in his hand and elbow on the window. It's an expression of lazy contentment, one that he maintains as Janek navigates the sea of cars. Janek must be a good driver because the ride is a smooth one.
Finally, they come to a stop, this one much longer than the previous ones, and golden eyes slowly blink open.
"What do you take me for, a barbarian?" Dante asks, his expression unimpressed. "I do all my paperwork online. I'm going back to collect the papers I brainstorm on." Of course, the majority of his official work is also done on his tablet, brainstorming or not, but he enjoys the expressions he gets when he unveils the pet projects that even he would call genius, and to do that—to truly ascertain that they're viewed when and only he allows—he needs the privacy of pen and paper.
He doesn't say that, though. If Janek thinks him eccentric because of it then it's good that Dante's never shied away from being called offensive things. At the very least, Janek would be right. That's something more than most can say after Dante's done pressing their buttons.
Dante just wants to dance on his Scythe's bottom line though, rather than trampling on it. Janek's a pleasure even when he's only a little upset, even if Dante does revel in infuriating others.
With this thought done, Dante lets his eyes flutter shut, head in his hand and elbow on the window. It's an expression of lazy contentment, one that he maintains as Janek navigates the sea of cars. Janek must be a good driver because the ride is a smooth one.
Finally, they come to a stop, this one much longer than the previous ones, and golden eyes slowly blink open.
He doesn't say that, though. If Janek thinks him eccentric because of it then it's good that Dante's never shied away from being called offensive things. At the very least, Janek would be right. That's something more than most can say after Dante's done pressing their buttons.
Dante just wants to dance on his Scythe's bottom line though, rather than trampling on it. Janek's a pleasure even when he's only a little upset, even if Dante does revel in infuriating others.
With this thought done, Dante lets his eyes flutter shut, head in his hand and elbow on the window. It's an expression of lazy contentment, one that he maintains as Janek navigates the sea of cars. Janek must be a good driver because the ride is a smooth one.
Finally, they come to a stop, this one much longer than the previous ones, and golden eyes slowly blink open.
Janek raised a brow, but didn't protest. He supposed he could see the value in wanting paper with ones notes on it, although he wondered as to why it couldn't wait for things to be safer or Dante to be better healed. But what did he know of such things?
The drive was an easy one, despite how busy it usually was on a day where the sun was out. They managed to cut through the majority of the worst of traffic, and Janek fell into comfortable silence—made easier by Dante appearing to drift into sleep. They arrived at their location with good time, and Janek parked on the street outside Dante's apartment.
Janek was just wondering how he should go about waking Dante when the other came to all on his own. "We're here," Janek supplied needlessly, reaching over to turn the car off. The engine lulled to sleep, leaving them in proper silence.
It was not uncommon for Janek to enter someone else's home, given his profession, yet this was the first in quite some time when he was expected to enter a home and leave its owner alive. It made him feel peculiar, and he couldn't help but stare at Dante expectantly, waiting for him to get out of the car first.
The drive was an easy one, despite how busy it usually was on a day where the sun was out. They managed to cut through the majority of the worst of traffic, and Janek fell into comfortable silence—made easier by Dante appearing to drift into sleep. They arrived at their location with good time, and Janek parked on the street outside Dante's apartment.
Janek was just wondering how he should go about waking Dante when the other came to all on his own. "We're here," Janek supplied needlessly, reaching over to turn the car off. The engine lulled to sleep, leaving them in proper silence.
It was not uncommon for Janek to enter someone else's home, given his profession, yet this was the first in quite some time when he was expected to enter a home and leave its owner alive. It made him feel peculiar, and he couldn't help but stare at Dante expectantly, waiting for him to get out of the car first.
Janek raised a brow, but didn't protest. He supposed he could see the value in wanting paper with ones notes on it, although he wondered as to why it couldn't wait for things to be safer or Dante to be better healed. But what did he know of such things?
The drive was an easy one, despite how busy it usually was on a day where the sun was out. They managed to cut through the majority of the worst of traffic, and Janek fell into comfortable silence—made easier by Dante appearing to drift into sleep. They arrived at their location with good time, and Janek parked on the street outside Dante's apartment.
Janek was just wondering how he should go about waking Dante when the other came to all on his own. "We're here," Janek supplied needlessly, reaching over to turn the car off. The engine lulled to sleep, leaving them in proper silence.
It was not uncommon for Janek to enter someone else's home, given his profession, yet this was the first in quite some time when he was expected to enter a home and leave its owner alive. It made him feel peculiar, and he couldn't help but stare at Dante expectantly, waiting for him to get out of the car first.
The drive was an easy one, despite how busy it usually was on a day where the sun was out. They managed to cut through the majority of the worst of traffic, and Janek fell into comfortable silence—made easier by Dante appearing to drift into sleep. They arrived at their location with good time, and Janek parked on the street outside Dante's apartment.
Janek was just wondering how he should go about waking Dante when the other came to all on his own. "We're here," Janek supplied needlessly, reaching over to turn the car off. The engine lulled to sleep, leaving them in proper silence.
It was not uncommon for Janek to enter someone else's home, given his profession, yet this was the first in quite some time when he was expected to enter a home and leave its owner alive. It made him feel peculiar, and he couldn't help but stare at Dante expectantly, waiting for him to get out of the car first.
(I can't believe I missed the last OOC message! It's a good thing Dante went to sleep, otherwise Janek would be driving him insane with the silence or he would be needling Janek for entertainment.)
The scientist seems to come to awareness slowly. Golden eyes blink of the last vestiges of slumber, and arms stretch lazily upward in the small space of the car. Eventually, Dante lets a small yawn spill out from his lips before finally opening the door and stepping out. It's a calculated performance, continued as he steps up to his door and pauses in front of it to count his keys, as if he doesn't know which one belongs where.
After all, the alternative is returning to the hospital. In the face of that, there's no reason not to dawdle, at least not when it's just a little.
Settling on the correct key, Dante unlocks his front door, not bothering to hold it for Janek as he slips inside. Though it's far from his counterpart's cynical cleanliness with sandals at the door and stacks of paper scattered across counters, the scientist reveals it all with brazenness.
The study has more of the same papers and a small setup of monitors in front of a leather reclining chair. The kitchen has an assortment of sweets and snacks on the shelves and a collect of fine wines in the cabinet. The laundry has plain clothes, all in drab shades of black, white, and navy, thrown haphazardly in a basket.
They pass by it all, and, finally, they arrive in front of the one closed door in the house.
Dante pushes on through, and it swings open to reveal his bedroom. The covers still carry an impression of his body, and right there on the bedside cabinet are a cluster of papers. For the first time, Dante makes a move to obscure something from Janek's view with an almost apologetic smile; it's not one, only because of who's making it.
Blocking his Scythe's view with his back, Dante quickly leafs through his work—lips pursing unseen when he finds some missing—before letting his arm fall to his side, papers tucked against his coat.
"Well," Dante says, voice brimming with levity, though there's something faintly tight, "would you want to take a look around, see if you find some clues?"
The scientist seems to come to awareness slowly. Golden eyes blink of the last vestiges of slumber, and arms stretch lazily upward in the small space of the car. Eventually, Dante lets a small yawn spill out from his lips before finally opening the door and stepping out. It's a calculated performance, continued as he steps up to his door and pauses in front of it to count his keys, as if he doesn't know which one belongs where.
After all, the alternative is returning to the hospital. In the face of that, there's no reason not to dawdle, at least not when it's just a little.
Settling on the correct key, Dante unlocks his front door, not bothering to hold it for Janek as he slips inside. Though it's far from his counterpart's cynical cleanliness with sandals at the door and stacks of paper scattered across counters, the scientist reveals it all with brazenness.
The study has more of the same papers and a small setup of monitors in front of a leather reclining chair. The kitchen has an assortment of sweets and snacks on the shelves and a collect of fine wines in the cabinet. The laundry has plain clothes, all in drab shades of black, white, and navy, thrown haphazardly in a basket.
They pass by it all, and, finally, they arrive in front of the one closed door in the house.
Dante pushes on through, and it swings open to reveal his bedroom. The covers still carry an impression of his body, and right there on the bedside cabinet are a cluster of papers. For the first time, Dante makes a move to obscure something from Janek's view with an almost apologetic smile; it's not one, only because of who's making it.
Blocking his Scythe's view with his back, Dante quickly leafs through his work—lips pursing unseen when he finds some missing—before letting his arm fall to his side, papers tucked against his coat.
"Well," Dante says, voice brimming with levity, though there's something faintly tight, "would you want to take a look around, see if you find some clues?"
(I can't believe I missed the last OOC message! It's a good thing Dante went to sleep, otherwise Janek would be driving him insane with the silence or he would be needling Janek for entertainment.)
The scientist seems to come to awareness slowly. Golden eyes blink of the last vestiges of slumber, and arms stretch lazily upward in the small space of the car. Eventually, Dante lets a small yawn spill out from his lips before finally opening the door and stepping out. It's a calculated performance, continued as he steps up to his door and pauses in front of it to count his keys, as if he doesn't know which one belongs where.
After all, the alternative is returning to the hospital. In the face of that, there's no reason not to dawdle, at least not when it's just a little.
Settling on the correct key, Dante unlocks his front door, not bothering to hold it for Janek as he slips inside. Though it's far from his counterpart's cynical cleanliness with sandals at the door and stacks of paper scattered across counters, the scientist reveals it all with brazenness.
The study has more of the same papers and a small setup of monitors in front of a leather reclining chair. The kitchen has an assortment of sweets and snacks on the shelves and a collect of fine wines in the cabinet. The laundry has plain clothes, all in drab shades of black, white, and navy, thrown haphazardly in a basket.
They pass by it all, and, finally, they arrive in front of the one closed door in the house.
Dante pushes on through, and it swings open to reveal his bedroom. The covers still carry an impression of his body, and right there on the bedside cabinet are a cluster of papers. For the first time, Dante makes a move to obscure something from Janek's view with an almost apologetic smile; it's not one, only because of who's making it.
Blocking his Scythe's view with his back, Dante quickly leafs through his work—lips pursing unseen when he finds some missing—before letting his arm fall to his side, papers tucked against his coat.
"Well," Dante says, voice brimming with levity, though there's something faintly tight, "would you want to take a look around, see if you find some clues?"
The scientist seems to come to awareness slowly. Golden eyes blink of the last vestiges of slumber, and arms stretch lazily upward in the small space of the car. Eventually, Dante lets a small yawn spill out from his lips before finally opening the door and stepping out. It's a calculated performance, continued as he steps up to his door and pauses in front of it to count his keys, as if he doesn't know which one belongs where.
After all, the alternative is returning to the hospital. In the face of that, there's no reason not to dawdle, at least not when it's just a little.
Settling on the correct key, Dante unlocks his front door, not bothering to hold it for Janek as he slips inside. Though it's far from his counterpart's cynical cleanliness with sandals at the door and stacks of paper scattered across counters, the scientist reveals it all with brazenness.
The study has more of the same papers and a small setup of monitors in front of a leather reclining chair. The kitchen has an assortment of sweets and snacks on the shelves and a collect of fine wines in the cabinet. The laundry has plain clothes, all in drab shades of black, white, and navy, thrown haphazardly in a basket.
They pass by it all, and, finally, they arrive in front of the one closed door in the house.
Dante pushes on through, and it swings open to reveal his bedroom. The covers still carry an impression of his body, and right there on the bedside cabinet are a cluster of papers. For the first time, Dante makes a move to obscure something from Janek's view with an almost apologetic smile; it's not one, only because of who's making it.
Blocking his Scythe's view with his back, Dante quickly leafs through his work—lips pursing unseen when he finds some missing—before letting his arm fall to his side, papers tucked against his coat.
"Well," Dante says, voice brimming with levity, though there's something faintly tight, "would you want to take a look around, see if you find some clues?"