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Post by ocean on Sept 7, 2008 13:17:07 GMT -5
Robert flashed a charming smile at the young lady who had been kind enough to whip him up some lunch, taking no notice of the red tinge that her face gained when the grin was received. Whisking himself away from the line, he surveyed the Mess Hall with caution. God knew that he’d been bowled over by eager Arc Angels more than once. And those Apprentices…well, those Apprentices were ending up in the Infirmary like none other, that was for sure.
Kids these days, they think they’re invincible… Robert gave a disbelieving snort, causing a passing rat to give him a curious look, but the rodent asked no questions before scurrying away. That was the good thing about being an Angel; no one though you were crazy. He wasn’t the only one carrying a conversation with himself in this room.
Insanity and brilliance, he mused, inching towards an empty table in a corner of the room, so often found in the same place. The best scientific and mechanical minds ended up here, in this building. Robert was often humbled by their presence; he was sure that he was not worthy of such a title as Angel! Then again, even the brilliant needed to be patched up now and then. That was where he came in.
Seating himself in one of the four chairs around the table, Robert popped a piece of shrimp into his mouth. Chewing appreciatively, he bent down to retrieve the bag he’d brought with him. Sliding open the cover, he pulled out a leather-bound volume and, propping it open against the napkin dispenser that rested in the middle of the table, began to read.
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Post by Rook on Sept 7, 2008 15:53:05 GMT -5
No charming smile was flashed when Rook cleared the line, but a rustically polite "Thank you, Madame". was seemingly just as rare because he also received a blush.
A blush for that? He'd thought Angel chefs were made of sterner stuff! He thought of this as he descended unwillingly into a crowd of blabbering nit-wits he had to Oversee later today (he always had to remind himself that they were young and it wasn't fair to hold this inherit brand of stupidity against them).
They carefully dodged around the Wolverine hybrid as they passed some offering him greetings full of rabid, empty-headed friendliness and others trying not to look at him at all.
He wasn't concerned with them at the moment however, There was a lot on the old ArcAngel's mind, several maps, and two notebooks accompanied the lunch tray in his busy hands, the weight was never an issue but sometimes what looked like a good idea initially often lead to a splattered baked potatoe. Rook however, managed it all this time as he headed for the nearest table and managed to set it all down without a hitch on the seat across from Robert Koors.
Rook was familiar with nearly all the younger Angels, having Overseen them, and he usually only began to appreciate them after Late Fledgling status, having watched them finally done something useful for a change, but Rook had liked Robert from the beginning, the bitter old Overseer had tried as hard as he could to find something to gripe about, but there had been nearly nothing about the now, Middle Angel, Head Doctor, he had such inexplicable, easy benevolence about him, which Rook had observed on his many excursions in the Infirmary (being an ArcAngel was not what it was cracked up to be. Especially, when you had an actual several cracks in your skull)
Perhaps he was biased, as the avian hybrid reminded him of David, his Mentor, now long gone.
Rook had been wrestling with Adie's location for a day and a half, the refusal of even her youngest members, even in the face of death, to admit anything had driven him nearly to and irritable form of insanity. After a lot of frusteration and loss of dignity, he finally had a focal point, he honestly would have welcomed a conversation right now to take his mind off it, but he wasn't the sort of person who went up and started chatting up someone while they were reading. Instead he elected to start on his steak (rare, as always) and take a rather large sip of brandy for being on duty.
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Post by ocean on Sept 7, 2008 19:00:30 GMT -5
Robert’s content gaze lifted from his book, his eyebrows sprouting upwards slightly at the sight of the Middle Angel lumbering towards him with many a-notebook and his own lunch clutched in his clawed hands. The heron’s attention was immediately drawn to the bio-enhanced appendages that Rook had adopted after surrendering his natural set as his Sacrifice, something of a shudder tracing the doctor’s spine.
He wasn’t fond of that kind of surgery, but still, he had to admit that those knives of his were a fine piece of work. Excellently designed, and still in perfectly working condition. Robert wished to ask Rook when the last time he’d gotten a tune-up was, but figured that it wasn’t his business anyhow. The Overseer might be annoyed by Robert’s misplaced interest.
“Good day, Regulus,” Robert said good-naturedly, offering the wolverine a serene smile. “He eyed the mound of paper and such splayed before the Middle Angel but, again, held his tongue. Not your business, Koors. Best to keep a stone jaw, at least for now. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Rook, oh no, not at all. He didn’t want to upset the wolverine’s day, that was all. Robert supposed that the Overseer had enough prying apprentices to deal with without the addition of the heron himself.
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Post by Rook on Sept 7, 2008 20:36:19 GMT -5
Rook blinked in surprise, few called him by his first name, it wasn't unpleasant just unexpected, usually he was "Rook" or some other honorific. He supposed that was fortunate, it sounded aristocratic and Rook wasn't all too fond of remembering his origins. However, it was nice to hear once in a while.
He'd been peering down at the map, circling several coordinates and marking out an enourmous repression that was marked as The Caves, this did not bode well for him. If he had to find Adeline in those caverns near the Dark District he'd have to rely on his sense of smell alone, there were many branches of those that not even the Angels had managed to map out. He'd have to make sure first.
He looked up from his charts at the bird, studying him thoughtfully and nodding in greeting. He could tell something was on Robert's mind, noticing the hybrid had been looking at his claws, he was curious, but he decided he wouldn't press him, if Robert wanted to speak of it, he would, Rook admittedly wasn't the easiest person in the world to approach with questions.
He also wasn't one for small talk, even with those he considered his comrades.
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