A soft snicker of laughter spilled between lips as a grin worked it’s way up. Leaning back upon arms, a mop of blonde hair fell backwards, ahoge falling with it as eyes looked coyly at the obviously frustrated spirit. “Hehe .. th-that’s not nice to say, Ratatosk. What’s g-got you so mad, this time?”

Emil doubted whoever this person was who annoyed Ratatosk was, was truly an idiot. Though, he might as well hear Ratatosk out and try to help him through this, yes?

Here grows [ conflicting feelings ] as he stares at this person with eyes who don’t work. What does he do? He doesn’t like the way he’s spoken to, the suggestion that a grown man ( spirit, the difference is hardly of any consequence ) could not walk across a street without supervision.

However …

A smile is forced upon lips. “A-ah … alright. Though I m-might say the same for you, sir. Should you be o-out without a friend or something in your condition?” Emil gives a soft laugh, and a hand takes the other’s with a steady grip. “So h-here, let’s help each-other, neh?”

his fingers are not soft like a womans,
yet they are not hard like a mans.

                                  Emil is gifted with the crafts he weaves
                             betweens fingers that surprise and captivate

For one such as he is not expected to have hands that
create beautiful but terrible things. Does one see how
he toils? Like a creator, a minstrel to his own music, it
was how he operated.

        He forgot about swords.

             A knife took it’s place, creating a peace of art
                               in the shape of food.

His fingers are not soft like a woman’s

       yet they are not hard like a man’s.

                                                           These are hands which have known
                                                           hardship and ease. War and Peace.

Yet for each thing his hands are, there is another part
of them that they are not. His hands grasp warmly at
another’s, no judgement to hot or cold, instead just a
genial twitch of lips, calmly offering acceptance.

For his hands are not judging,

         and his fingers are not soft.
                    yet they are not hard either.

Well, if anything this anon certainly knew how to get the boy flustered,
his face, dusted pink, darkened considerably as the anon whisked 
forward and wrapped their arms around him.

   ”A-ah… I…d-don’t know…“ 

Truthfully, this boy was far too easy to fluster.

There was a sharp, unmanly, squeak that peeped between
blonde lips at the kiss.  Cheeks flushing  a  cherry color as
emerald optics stared at the anon with a confused air.

   ”Wh-what was … th-that for?”

      “Orion!”

The wolf was tugging at  the blonde’s scarf, going to drag
him back somewhere,  where  exactly  was  a  mystery  to 
Emil. Green oculars spying the area around them, but had
he seen the package sooner—

                     ”Did s-someone leave this here?!”

Emil panicked, staring as cheeks raised  in  a rosy hue,
wolf companion sitting down behind him, head leaning 
against the blonde’s calmly. A deep  throaty  noise left 
him and Emil looked up, “This is…for… me?”

Another noise.

              “No! Surely not!“ 

Yet,   as   Emil  lowered   himself,   much  to  Orion’s 
discomfort  to  being  left  without  a literal head-rest,
and picked up the card, there was a soft ‘eep’. What,
What was—

A smile tipped Emil’s face as  he stared down at the 
card, for that was all that was needed, the gift? Well,
Emil was more than certain it would be amazing, but
the reminder, the show of someone caring …

           ”Hey, Orion?
                      Let’s make something for Richard,
                      yeah?”

   “I’m l-leaning, I’m leaning!”

Emil giggled lightly, smiling as he knelt down onto his haunches, her lips catching the bridge of his nose and he blinked in surprise before laughing. “Thank-you for th-the kiss!” How sweet of her, he was indeed glad he’d gotten to know this girl –Elle– he mentally had to insert the name, thinking about it for a few seconds to automatically put it in the next time he thought of her.

   ”I’m o-older than y-you, you know!”

Emil stated it rather huffily, arms crossing together in frustration. He was pretty much older than everyone he met.

Kissing disease acquired- compulsive kissing of the next 10 people on dash [ no repeats ]

   ”I missed you.”

It was a smile, eased upon lips as his head tipped to the side. Emotions gliding between one thing to the next as Emil bit down the internal feelings of wanting to cry and throw himself on the ginger, knowing the damage it would cause. Knowing the pain it had previously caused. So instead it was a smile.

Words leading to actions, walking to and fro, hand lifted, taken in a friendship as the walked, Emil leaning on him ever so slightly, like someone talking with a porcelain doll. His smile never wavering, the scarf pulled tight, the scars the wound it’s way on his arms, down his back, along his front all hidden from Claus.

Or until the other accidentally caught his scarf and the cloth ripped under the pressure of the mechanical chimera’s body and it ripped. Emil yipping, hands going to cover over his throat tightly. Large bruise hiding as Claus tried apologizing and Emil laughed awkwardly, telling him it was fine. 

It was fine.

He was panicking.

Worried if he let go of his throat that Claus would see he’d gone to see his Uncle again. The other knew about it, but he didn’t want to see the anger or disappointment Claus would have, knowing Emil had gone back. Instead, he ducked his head, dipping down to grab the scarf piece that had fallen on the ground, the long cloth lucky enough to keep him from having to worry about needing anything. Wrapping it around his throat, he smiled innocently. “See? No problem!”

His body loosened but that was not the end of the adventures it seemed. Walking along with Claus it turned into a ‘hit and miss’ sort of deal. Certain things catching the material of his clothes by accident, tripping into a puddle and barely catching himself. It was just getting so strange and by the end of the day his clothes were torn up particularly bad and he sighed.

But smiled.

Hands going to a couple of ingredients that he still had with him and winked at Claus. Eggs, cheese and milk. omelets.

It seemed to lighten Claus’s mood as Emil made the food before handing it over, excusing himself to go off into the thicket. Whispering for Tenebrae, the centurion of darkness sat in front of him, a very disapproving look on his face as he saw the looks of the clothes from so early on. How Emil had managed to bumble his way into this. Demanding for them back to fix them, Emil nodded, going to remove certain pieces himself before the evaporated into darkness before Emil could even call for his old clothes for now.

Left in dark, naked, his face was beat red. Hands covering himself as he hid behind a tree. Claus’ voice calling for the blonde and he shouted how it was nothing—

Chromatic eyes glanced over to Emil and saw him. The scars he had been working so diligently hiding gone at this moment. Emil’s face red, tears beginning to swell in his eyes. “I’m sorr-sorry,“ he hiccuped, curling in on himself to reveal the scratched up back, the bruises and everything that continued from the from.

His continued whispers of apologies, trying to hide himself as he could while the darkness itself couldn’t even keep him hidden from the chimera. Mechanical eye able to pierce the sight lost…

   ”Uh…”

[ MIIINKY silly thing. This is a difficult thing … ]

   "Well, I c-can say that Justice is … uuuh … w-well, it’s doing what’s right. E-even if it means that nobody else sees it that way?“

[ Now hold on. I don’t think we can say that. Or else that’d mean Alexei was doing ‘Justice’ and what he was doing was certainly wrong, just right in his opinion. ]

   ”Oh…right…uh…“

[ Justice for me is a sense of morality. There’s a base line that society has drawn and people sway here and there depending on who they are. ]

   ”H-hey! Don’t you have the same opinion as m-me then?!“

[ Eh, there’s slight differences. You say 'doing what’s right’, I say once a person has gone too far past Societies set for 'justice’ it isn’t Justice anymore. See? ]

   ”No.“