( for a long moment there is nothing but a long stretch of strained silence after the furious raps at the door to makoto's quarters. then, to the keen ears of a demon, the creaking of wood furniture. soft, slow footsteps. there's a groan in the floor just on the other side of the door, and then the lock unlatches and the door opens two or three inches to reveal the impassive face of of the young demon's retainer — a man who J certainly would have seen and spoken with on several occasions. tall (though certainly not as tall as the demon), severe, and listing towards middle age, one could probably look between the man that makoto had chosen to attend to him and his demon master and possibly make some wild assumptions about him (some of which might well be true). kivander keeps his short, blond hair neatly swept back, and his eyes — one brown and one blue — are impassive and watchful as they study the demon. the achamite has a smart, efficient way of moving and speaking, left-over from many years of service in the military that were cut short by a wound to his left arm that had prevented him from properly holding a weapon.
he pauses, then speaks in his measured, austere tones, )Master J. My apologies, the young Master Aion is presently indis—
( his attention is momentarily distracted from a sound within the chambers, and then makoto's voice some distance away: ) Let him in.
( the words die in the retainer's mouth; he pauses, then nods, taking a sweeping step back to pull the door the rest of the way open to allow the demon entry. as he does, makoto provides the further order, ) And leave us for now, Kivander.
As you say. Send for me if you have need of me.
( he collects some effects from a small table at the side of the room where he had been attending and leaves, closing the door carefully behind him. )
J.
( the room is dimly lit, but he almost feels as though he could see the man's figure cut through darkness as black as pitch. makoto is propped up in bed; it seems that he might have been sleeping just a few moments ago, but he's hauled himself up enough that he can rest against a veritable curtain wall of pillows assembled behind him. his hair is undone, falling into dark waves wild and messy from sleep, and the shirt he wears is unbuttoned enough to reveal a weave of bandages beneath, encircling practically his entire torso. they are presently unmarred by blood — the first thing he had done upon stumbling to his chambers from the Regent's throne room was summon kivander and get his wounds cleaned and sewn so they could begin to mend — but he has been trying to be cautious not to move so much that they were further aggravated while in the slow process of healing.
as such, he doesn't pull himself out of bed to run across the length of the room and throw himself into J's arms, despite how that always seems to be the first impulse that comes through his head when he sees him after any period of time that they've been apart.
instead, ) Come here, ( said as he reaches out to him, wanting to have his hands on him, to feel that he's truly here and that nothing had managed to befall him, as soon as he could. )
for J | shortly after the soviseri event
he pauses, then speaks in his measured, austere tones, ) Master J. My apologies, the young Master Aion is presently indis—
( his attention is momentarily distracted from a sound within the chambers, and then makoto's voice some distance away: ) Let him in.
( the words die in the retainer's mouth; he pauses, then nods, taking a sweeping step back to pull the door the rest of the way open to allow the demon entry. as he does, makoto provides the further order, ) And leave us for now, Kivander.
As you say. Send for me if you have need of me.
( he collects some effects from a small table at the side of the room where he had been attending and leaves, closing the door carefully behind him. )
J.
( the room is dimly lit, but he almost feels as though he could see the man's figure cut through darkness as black as pitch. makoto is propped up in bed; it seems that he might have been sleeping just a few moments ago, but he's hauled himself up enough that he can rest against a veritable curtain wall of pillows assembled behind him. his hair is undone, falling into dark waves wild and messy from sleep, and the shirt he wears is unbuttoned enough to reveal a weave of bandages beneath, encircling practically his entire torso. they are presently unmarred by blood — the first thing he had done upon stumbling to his chambers from the Regent's throne room was summon kivander and get his wounds cleaned and sewn so they could begin to mend — but he has been trying to be cautious not to move so much that they were further aggravated while in the slow process of healing.
as such, he doesn't pull himself out of bed to run across the length of the room and throw himself into J's arms, despite how that always seems to be the first impulse that comes through his head when he sees him after any period of time that they've been apart.
instead, ) Come here, ( said as he reaches out to him, wanting to have his hands on him, to feel that he's truly here and that nothing had managed to befall him, as soon as he could. )