Young Lämmermeier had been spreading some nice apricot jelly on bread earlier, ready for yet another delightful breakfast with his mother and father. He had been in the process of pouring tea for his lovely parents when he... well, blinked. And suddenly the table is gone along with the tea and his parents and-- oh no, not the toast and jelly.
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As it is, though, he's feeling rather warm and content as he walks through the mansion, with his hair rather mussed, some grape juice on his lips, and a rather cat-that-got-the-cream look on his face. He stops and blinks at Lammermeir, then grins broadly and waves. "Lam! Hello!"
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"... H-Hello?"
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That is-- until Georg mentions Moritz. ".... ARE WE DEAD?"
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Perhaps he's dreaming. That might be it! "... Okay," he accepts, wondering when he'll wake up.
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"Well! Isn't that, ah, lovely! Everyone here," he says awkwardly. At least he's not dead.
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"O-oh, is that so?" he replies, distracted, "How is Martha? And everyone else?" Even though he had just seen them all yesterday.
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Apparently Georg feels talkative. Congratulations, Lam.
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