[ic] [Hector]

[lacroix_styles]

With his latop put away and the kitchen clean once more, Lacroix was on a mission. A very important one, oh yes; he was seeking out his currently missing mentor amid the hallways of Castle Styles, since there were conversations to be had

Comments

[hector_styles]

It was probably a very good thing that Lacroix didn’t venture forth further into the apartment, because if he had found Hector in his ossuary now, he would have likely become just as shocked and disgusted as the first time he’d laid eyes on the mess of blood and gore inside there weeks prior. This room was his chapel of death, a shrine that held bones from all the people he’d murdered over the years to prevent himself from aging. It was also the room where he conducted ritual slaughter, killing animals for the purpose of leeching mana from the action

[lacroix_styles]

Nothing like seeing the guy who was supposed to be teaching you how to fit into the world when you were a freak standing there bloody and looming; see, now that just wasn't a good way to start a conversation.
He had stumbled back anyway when the door had opened, not realizing he was standing in front of that panel rather than the one next to it, and was left just standing there.
The look on his face was amusing; a mix between flat bewildered and borderline uncertainty that Hector wasn't going to stab him right about then.

The guy was bloody and there were only so many ways a person ended up like that, Lacroix could think of none that were positive either

[hector_styles]

When Lacroix fled the room, Hector just... remained silent, wondering just when his apprentice was going to grow used to blood -- it was quite unusual, a death mage retreating from the sight of gore. It was going to be very difficult to teach Lacroix certain spells if he couldn’t stand to be in the room with a corpse, or blood, or any remnants of a person. It disappointed Hector in a small way, Lacroix’s sensitivity, but he knew it would dull over time and that made it difficult for him to be frustrated at Lacroix

[lacroix_styles]

While Hector was busy scrubbing the evening's amusements off himself Lacroix had opted to put the sight well out of his mind if at all possible, no easy task really but it had begun to get less exhausting the longer he had been staying in the apartment. That in itself should have been a cause for concern, but there was no real avoiding it; while he certainly didn't think of himself as anything as intense as capable of maiming anything Lacroix already knew from past encounters with gory rooms that Hector had some twisted pass times.

In the beginning Lacroix had joked about how he should have known better than to come live with Hector since for all he knew the man could have been a serial killer, that joke wasn't really as humorous anymore when he had to debate if there was any truth to the matter.
Hector was obviously murdering something, and the prospects of that being animals compared to humans was one that made the idea far less unnerving but no less wrong in his opinion