v3 oneshot: cat adoption

[warmskies]

 "That scoundrel," Lorenz hisses, one hand to his chest. Out of everyone he knows, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester is one of two people who Claude personally knows that actually use phrases like scoundrel or cur. The other person is Claude's boyfriend. 

Normally, Claude would tease him a little for this, or at least smile slightly. Instead, he offers a mild correction. "Some people sure are bastards for no good reason in the world, although I gotta admit that I say that with a lot of assumption attached. Well, in a lot of cases, whatever the reason, it doesn't mean you can just go and do whatever you like with no consequences." 

"Riiiiiight?" Hilda leans forward, hands on her hips. "I just couldn't stay quiet when he went and did that! It upset me so much! What kind of shitty job does he think he can get away with it?" 

All this talk is making Marianne wince, as though she's worried about who would overhear. There's no reason to worry on her end, honestly. They're all at band practice, at the college that allows them space to practice in the music rooms. Every single other person in the room is just like them: broke, oppressed, and pissed. If anyone else can be sympathetic to shitty treatment by a shitty landlord, the room is full of potential candidates. 

But that's Marianne for you. Even with therapy reinforcing that she's a good person who deserves good things, or at least doesn't deserve to be treated like garbage for no reason even if that's what she really believes, she's still a quiet type. The type that will patiently wait forever at a restaurant before a server notices her, which Claude can appreciate on one level as a man in the business of coffee, but also wishes she would understand giving people a break and genuinely shitty service. 

Her landlord? Genuinely shitty service. 

While the rest of them are commiserating over this, waiting for the rest of their friends to show up, a cheerfully oblivious voice speaks up from the doors. "Hello, everyone!" That would be Dimitri, over six feet of muscle and good will, holding his flute case close to his chest and smiling. Dedue is trailing behind him, his own flute case carefully held in his arms. 

It was only, initially, Dimitri that was going to start attending the band practices, since, well. Not only is he dating the guy in charge of it all (see: Claude's own wonderful self), but Dimitri seems to have an actual genuine interest in all of it - from the music to the activism. Claude has only said it once to Dimitri, or something vaguely similar in emotion and experience, but that honestly soothes him somehow. Dimitri isn't any good at lying. If he's here, it's because it's exactly where he wants to be. 

Dimitri seems to pick up on the actual bad thing they're talking about as he looks over their expressions while drawing closer, and he frowns. "Did something happen?" he asks, coming to a stop while Dedue gives a respectable nod to Hilda and Lorenz. 

"It's only some neighbor issues at my apartment," Marianne tries to say, which is technically not true, but also not technically the whole truth. 

Lorenz takes over from here, still occasionally missing that he's talking over someone. "Marianne recently got some new neighbors in the building she rents, which is not often a bad or notable thing, except these are the truly terrible types - the deplorable kind of miscreants that stay up to all hours of the night regularly causing ungodly amounts of noise." Pulling his spine straighter than most people mistake him to be (which is always more than Claude would ever have thought), Lorenz flares out his nostrils. He looks like he should be the stuck up villain in a kid's movie. Claude suspects Lorenz is now aware of this impression, and does it voluntarily when he's particularly pissed at people who don't know him personally. "Her landlord refuses to do a thing about it." 

"Although, to be fair, Marianne didn't want to do anything about it either," Claude adds, reaching over to reassuringly pat her on the shoulder. "They have to stop partying like a bunch of kindergartners given free reign of the classroom while hopped up on caffeine and with the teacher missing, right? But Hilda went over one night, and, well-" 

Hilda flares out her hands in frustration from the mere memory alone. "Sooooo many people were drunk already, and the guys who weren't kept trying to do stuff like hit on me! Ugh. It didn't matter what I did at all! They just kept partying all night!" Brow furrowed, she gestures at herself. "I was at my cutest and sweetest, but nothing worked! Can you believe that, Dimitri?" 

A frown was already making its home on Dimitri's lips as he's been listening to this story, a look he shares with Dedue at least once or twice, and he straightens a little when Hilda addresses him directly. "Oh, yes, of course," he says, almost on auto pilot as he nods his head. "Isn't there someone higher she can go to in order to deal with the matter...?" 

"I don't want to raise too much trouble," Marianne murmurs, shaking her head. "I think the new tenant might be someone related to the landlord....." What she doesn't say is that it could really become a pretty huge thing if she went forward, and her landlord dug his heels in. She's really come a long way since they've all come to know her, b but this sort of thing is just far too much, especially with her mental health. 

Claude lets out a small tired exhale. "Honestly, her lease is going to end soon, and the next best thing would be to not renew it, and find somewhere else... But that's a lot to ask for with the housing market right now." 

"A lot of the places available are too expensive," she sighs. "I could room with someone, but none of our friends have any room... and... I'm not sure how I feel about being roommates with complete strangers right now..." 

Shrugging, Claude leans back on his heels. "So that's the issue right now," he tells Dimitri and Dedue. "We're all trying to figure it out, because this kind of thing just can't keep going." It's been ruining Marianne's sleep schedule just when she'd been on a great streak of keeping it together, too. Can't sleep if the people right below you are throwing another rager. 

"I see the dilemma..." Dimitri shakes his head slowly, but there's a thoughtful look upon his face. "Maybe... No, nevermind." 

Whenever someone says something like no, nevermind after sounding like they very much had an idea, Claude can't help but have his curiosity piqued. However, that's around the time that Raphael boisterously makes his entrance, Ignatz dragged along in much the same way that Dedue hangs around Dimitri. With that interruption, and Leonie soon coming along with Lysithea, it's basically around the time for practice to get going, so Claude reluctantly shelves his question of just what had been churning in Dimitri's head. 

Yet while getting an answer from the man himself has to be put on hold for a short while, that doesn't mean Claude ignores him entirely. While Dimitri is always more than happy to start talking to any of the members of the band, including basically all of Claude's friends, this time he seems a bit more focused, and only perks up when Sylvain swans in. 

Sylvain had joined because he had said he was interested in picking up chicks in the delicate woodwinds section. Woodwinds still has just Dimitri and Dedue, which Claude suspects is actually a part of the point. The other part of the point is that he's pretty sure Sylvain - well, he'd long ago noted the similarities between him and Sylvain, when the redhead had dropped his shitty flirting veneer for even half a second. So Claude is pretty sure that Sylvain is here partially because his friends are, and partially because Sylvain is a social creature who needs to be surrounded by other people for a set amount of time each day or else he starts to get antsy. It doesn't even have to be with people, necessarily, if Sylvain is really anything like Claude in that regard. Just being surrounded by people existing sometimes seems to be enough. 

Honestly, Claude finds this trait particularly kind of hilarious considering that Sylvain has not stopped making eyes at one Felix Hugo Fraldarius since the day Claude met him, and he's pretty sure that Felix would be more than happy to run away to a cabin in the middle of the woods miles and miles from civilization with his 25 swords and 14 cats if he could get away with it, and maybe Sylvain, if the two of them ever get over themselves and just start dating already. 

The second he's realized Sylvain has entered, Dimitri immediately stops conversing quietly with Dedue and goes straight for the redhead. That's around the time everyone organizes to get practice started properly, instead of a pseudo-start where they're all still gabbering, and Claude loses track of his boyfriend for a little bit. In the moments he does manage to pay attention to him again, whenever they all get a break to catch their literal breaths, Dimitri often seems lost in conversation with Sylvain. It's notable because Sylvain seems to actually be making an effort to be serious, looking actually thoughtful and occasionally nodding his head when Dimitri talks to him. 

Claude is dying to know, but, fortunately, his forced patience ends up being rewarded as the practice comes to an end. It's the same as it usually is, every couple of weeks, with the whole lot of them stomping around the small courtyard area while blaring instruments as loud as they can go. That's often around the time people finish up, gathering any backpacks or bags or whatever else they've brought. 

Personally, he likes to bring a nice sturdy backpack that he doesn't plan on replacing for a long while and so takes good care of to make up for it. He's checking over his stuff, talking to his friends, all of that, when Dimitri approaches him again. Behind him, Sylvain and Dedue trail behind, with the former cheerfully carrying the brunt of the conversation. It doesn't escape Claude that both of them have found the perfect distance to be technically Away but still near enough to slide in if something goes wrong. 

Granted, he has absolutely no idea what could go wrong, at least up until Dimitri taps Marianne on the shoulder and asks, "Regarding our previos conversation, what kind of roommate would be preferable to you?" 

None of them were born yesterday. Almost immediately, Claude and his own roommates perk up in immediate interest, with Hilda in particular getting a wide smile stretched across her face. Marianne takes a couple of seconds herself, but, then again, she's caught by surprise at the question as it is. "Oh... Well..." She starts to say something, only to cut herself off, hands clutched delicately in front of her as she rethinks her words with a quiet little inhale. "I'm not very extroverted," Marianne finally says, instead of insulting herself right off the bat. By Claude's side, Hilda is trying very hard not to be obnoxiously happy about this development. "And... Um... I suppose this is only partially something that can be influenced by a roommate..." 

Dimitri tilts his head to the side curiously. "Oh? What is it?" 

"I... would like the apartment to be one that's pet friendly." Her fingers curl a little tighter around her other fist. "You see, the apartment I'm in isn't. But I would like it so much if I could have a cat, or a dog of some kind to have. So, those would be things I would really like. Someone who won't be too loud and fine with my being quiet, along with somewhere I could have a pet..." 

She looks up, trying to gauge Dimitri's reaction to this, and he's already glowing with a hopeful interest that he's very clearly trying to stifle a little bit. "Well, my apartment is fine with animals," he says, forcing his voice to be calm and mostly succeeding. "I've mentioned to Claude.. that I would like to get roommates again, one day. If you would like... You could come over some time? I know you've visited before, but only for a couple of parties, so you may not have gotten a good look at it before. I wouldn't mind a quiet roommate... and it would be nice to have a pet for the apartment." 

"Would it really be alright? I don't want you to feel obligated simply because you overheard..."

"Oh, no, I was thinking it would simply work out really well for both of us, so..."

The conversation goes in a circle for a second there, but that's alright. That's more than enough time for the rest of them to glance over to one another with a wide grin. This is the kind of thing, after all, that could work out perfectly.





The conversation goes in a circle for a second there, but that's alright. That's more than enough time for the rest of them to glance over to one another with a wide grin. This is the kind of thing, after all, that could work out perfectly.

Poking his head out of the kitchen where he's on dinner making duty, Lorenz smiles slightly. "Well, she would certainly never be disappointed by noisy neighbors again. That would be an improvement for Marianne alone." He doesn't have long to stay out and chat, however, disappearing back into their tiny kitchen area again. There's food cooking, after all. Lorenz's voice filters out over the sound of sizzling. "Still, she's not moving into Ashe's apartment, now." 

"Not that I would blame her if she tried," Claude says, letting his little heroine in Legend of Mana stop while a Rabite hops around her happily grazing in the ranch grazing area. That lets him set his controller to the side, leaning back to grin at Hilda. "And if she succeeded, I'd throw her a party for getting into such a wonderful harem. I bet it would be for Annette. Annette seems like her type." 

"Claude Riegan!" Puffing her cheeks out in fabricated and exaggerated outrage, Hilda finishes getting out of her boots at long last so that she can lean over him with her hands on her hips. "I'm her type already! Gosh! You can't just talk about another lady whisking Marianne out from under me!" 

"You're right, that was terrible of me," Claude agrees easily, leaning back against the couch. "I apologize." A beat, and he adds, grinning, "I should have talked about two ladies whisking Marianne out from under you, with the help of two cute men. I bet Mercedes would be great for when she's feeling anxious, and Ashe loves cats, and-" That's around the time when Hilda takes a pillow and starts beating him with it, an offense Claude can barely defend himself against with shrieks of laughter. 

"Terrible!" Hilda announces, inbetween her own peals of laughter before she drops onto the couch, the impact of which has him bounce in place. "Besides, you know we've been both talking to Ingrid. Which!" She raises a finger, letting Claude have the pause to reorient himself in place from all the jostling and violent pillow attacks. "She was actually there too, when we got to Dimitri's apartment! Which made Marianne feel soooo much less nervous about the whole idea." 

Sweeping his hair out of his eyes, Claude makes an intrigued noise. "Oh, is that so?" he asks. "Well, that was smart of him, or whoever suggested the idea." Dimitri is a pretty intimidating figure, after all, even if he's been on his best behavior for Claude, and all of Claude's friends. Even if him and Marianne are friendly with each other, well, it could still be a little nervewracking. That's why Hilda had gone in the first place. With Ingrid there... That bit of moral support probably helped on both levels, with Marianne and Dimitri both. After all, she's one of Dimitri's childhood friends, and someone Marianne definitely has a crush on. It all works out. 

Hilda would say if it didn't, after all, but instead she just nods, holding the pillow close with a smile still on her lips. "Apparently she was helping Dimitri tidy up, too, before Marianne and me got there. Honestly, I feel like she would have done just fine without me there, you know?" Hilda taps her cheek thoughtfully. "He seems like such a spacecase sometimes, or really intimidating, or just a big softy, depending on, like the time of day, and what angle you're looking at.... But he really takes charge when you put him in situations like this, I guess. He'd already had a bunch of questions prepared on if she didn't mind using the subway, what she thought about the bathroom situation.... He was trying to be really careful with her. It was kind of cute." 

"That's my boyfriend," he says, grinning and running around as his little Rabite follows after. Time to go save - the smell wafting from the kitchen hints of a soon to be completed dinner. Lorenz went fancy, today. "So did the apartment seem like it would work out for her?" 

"Dinner is ready!" Lorenz announces, just as Claude hits his save. "Make sure to wash your hands, both of you. No offense, Hilda, and no offense to the state of Dimitri's apartment..." 

"But I did just take the subway and the Goddess left that to the rats a long time ago, I get it," Hilda says understandingly, hopping to her feet again and discarding her pillow. "I have impeccable manners, Lorenz, so you don't have to worry about me!" 

Tonight's dinner is some lovely bits of chicken breast slathered in some sort of white sauce that Lorenz seems particularly pleased about; the results have sure been Something ever since he learned how to cook for himself instead of expecting others to do it for him. On one hand, his ego has grown about a million more sizes. On the other hand, Lorenz is the kind of person who got interested in tea when he was a kid and so now knows every single kind of tea that exists in the world and gets a regular subscription for randomly selected teas each month, soooooo.... To say he's gone all in on cooking duty when it's his turn is to put it lightly. Chicken plus the salad he's got together? It's more than delicious. 

Tonight's mealtime conversation is, of course, what they were talking about in the living room, and Hilda continues once they've all settled down in their seats. "Anyway, so... Where was I... Oh, right!" She spears one of the little baby tomatoes in her salad. "The apartment! Anyway, in the light of day, without being, like, jam-packed with a million winter decorations, and no tables taking up all that space? She reaaaaally liked it. I think she was even a little intimidated, honestly, from how nice it was. You know. When you can see the counters for once, and Felix hasn't riddled the ceiling with nerf darts, and there are waaaay less people taking up all the room in the place." 

"It really must look like an entirely different abode when you visit on a regular day," Lorenz muses, working on his own plate of chicken.

Liberally splashing his salad with some homemade dressing he likes to keep tucked away in the fridge, Claude adds, "And I'm not surprised she was overwhelmed when she actually looked his apartment over properly. Even with a winter party actively going on, it's still much nicer and much more considerate of its neighbors compared to the place she's living in now. That's the benefit of blackmailing your estranged sister into letting you have a job or whatever." 

Lorenz perks up, his upper crust nose unable to resist the scent of any sort of inter-familial drama. "Is that what's going on...? Wait, no-" He pauses, narrowing his eyes at Claude's expression. "You're exaggerating things once more, aren't you? I know his relationship with Edelgard is rather strained, but that's quite drastic." 

Laughing, Claude winks, and doesn't actually answer one way or the other. While he knows a little bit of that particular tale thanks to piecing together bits and pieces of what Dimitri's friends have actually said, and he's pretty sure he's on the right track with those words... He won't confirm it one way or the other. "At any rate," he continues. "The subway system is nearby too, so she wouldn't have too much trouble on the average day she has to go to work..." 

"And he offered to let her borrow his car or drive her anywhere she needs to go, too!" Hilda says excitedly, waving her fork in idle eight loops through the air. "I'm serious- he obviously had a lot more things in mind but was trying not to overwhelm her. She hasn't committed exactly, but her and him exchanged emails, so he's gonna talk to her about roomie rules and all of that, see if they'll really fit well. He told her he was schizophrenic right off the bat, but - you know Marianne, that didn't bother her at all." 

Claude doesn't necessarily see an issue with this, and even smiles around his fork a little. This... is really a step up for Dimitri, he can tell. From all his conversations with his boyfriend, while it was never explicitly spelled out for him, he understands that Dimitri's friends group has stayed... pretty much the same for many years now. That's not necessarily a bad thing, out of context. Some people just aren't huge social butterflies, and are happy to stay with those they've known instead of branching out. It's just that he knows that's not entirely the case for Dimitri. That, until he started dating Claude and meeting all of his friends, his social circle had stayed stagnant for entirely different reasons. 

So, honestly, he can't see any problem at all, and in fact the opposite, at the news that he was open with Marianne right off the bat, that he felt comfortable enough to be open with her. Marianne is one of the better people to talk to about this, too. He knows she really went in deep when she first started going to therapy herself. 

He's happy, Hilda is obviously rolling with it all... but, from the corner of his eye, he can see Lorenz pause with his fork midway up on the journey to his mouth. This is the first he's heard of it, and Claude can almost see the automatic reaction form behind his eyes before he pauses, stopping himself by sticking food into his mouth. For a second, Claude wonders if Lorenz will look over at him for any reminders of what Dimitri is to him; he's pretty sure that's why Hilda made herself so casual. 

Lorenz doesn't. Instead, he seems to just roll his thoughts about in his head as he chews, before finishing both. "Well, I'm sure they'll both be open and communicative about all of that," he says slowly, still feeling out his words. "Although I have to admit that I am still somewhat concerned that something disastrous would happen such as a mix-up of medications." 

"I think the chances of that happening are pretty low," Claude says conversationally, like Lorenz didn't need a noticeable moment to think. "Marianne only takes the one, right? Dimitri has a whole cocktail for himself, and he keeps that in his own little pill organizer. It would take some pretty extraordinary circumstances for the two of them to get that mixed up." 

With her mouth stuffed full of chicken, Hilda snaps her fingers in realization. "Oh, I've seen that!" she says cheerfully, once she's swallowed. "I just thought it was, like, vitamins and things like that, although I guess I wasn't thinking too hard about it. I just remember thinking it was really cute, being rainbow colored and everything, and was going to ask him about it at the party, and if there was some sort of... secret vitamin trick to eating it with dinner, but this was at the party, you know? So I got distracted when Ashe told this really funny story, and forgot aaaall about it for the rest of the night." 

Claude grins around another bite of salad. "With how much he goes to the gym, he would give off the impression of someone who would organize all his hot jock body vitamins into a cute little container, wouldn't he?" 

"Stop boasting about your cute boyfriend, Claude," Hilda says, grinning at him. "Or at least only boast once you've asked him where he bought it. I'm so bad at remembering to take my vitamins, I could probably use one of those for myself." 

"You're in luck. Ingrid bought him a new one, since apparently he's been breaking through the regular plastic kinds-" 

"How do you break through?" 

"The plastic hinges wear out," Claude says simply. "So he pulls just a little too hard and the top snaps off. Anyway, Ingrid found him something a little sturdier he seems happy with, so I'll ask if he still has the rainbow one. He doesn't like throwing out stuff like that, so it's probably still around. Just a matter of finding it again." 

Lorenz, sighing, interjects with, "I think we've rather gotten off track. So, they're going to talk about rules, and things of that matter?" 

Taking a drink, Hilda can only vaguely wiggle her head in a sort of nod before she can speak up. "Yeah. Like, I'm serious, it's such a nice apartment, and the subway being so close by is a huge bonus. So if the place is really nice, then it's just a matter of the people, right? Oh-" She twirls her fork a little more. "And he even introduced her to the employees down in the lobby! He apparently remembered their names, and I think him and Dedue have bribed them with food." 

"Who have they not bribed with food?" Claude muses aloud, even as he's absolutely taken that tactic into his own repertoire of ideas. Everyone loves free food. It's just a matter of finding the right kind, and maybe some pre-emptive research. "Anyway, it sounds like they have it all handled. So while we wait for the inevitable request to help with her moving out of that shitty apartment - you got new ice cream for dessert, right, Lorenz?" 

"Of course I did. Do you take me for an absolute heathen?" 





By the time Claude and Hilda make it over to what can now be called Dimitri and Marianne's apartment, most of the boxes have already been moved inside, and both newly made roommates are absolutely relieved at the home welcoming gift of lunch. "You know, I always thought you had more stuff than this, Marianne," Claude muses as he looks over the small amount of boxes that have been stacked up in the living room. From what Dimitri had said before stuffing his face with a sandwich, Marianne's room up on the second floor is currently filled with furniture, some of it needing to be put together, which they both plan to finish today. 

Marianne shakes her head, working through her sandwich in a much neater fashion. "No... The apartment was just so small that it seemed like a lot." Smiling slightly, she turns her head to look over the boxes as well. "There really is so much space here... It feels nicer." 

"I'm glad to hear that," Dimitri says, somehow not choking on his food despite he got it past his teeth and through his gullet. Faintly, Claude wonders if he got so quick at eating because he's friends with Ingrid, or if - well he's honestly not sure what any other alternative there could be. It's kind of funny, considering how fussy he is whenever they eat in public. "I was wondering if maybe I would need to clear out more rooms, if your room didn't seem like it would be enough... but you were right when you said it was more than enough space, Marianne." He smiles over to her, and she smiles back at him. 

Yeah, it was a given that the two of them would get along great, with their kind of personalities. Claude hopes it lasts. On her end, Hilda claps her hands together exhuberantly. "So it's just the unpacking you guys need to do next, right? After you get all the furniture set up? I'm sure Claude can get that done with while you guys are eating lunch!" 

"Hey, hey, hey," he says mildly, leaning back in his seat. "Don't volunteer me for work you don't want to help with, Hilda." 

A knock on the door, a test of the knob, and Lorenz prods his head in with Ashe behind him. "Oh, good, you're already having lunch," Ashe says cheerily once he sees that Marianne and Dimitri are both eating. Claude suspects, just based on the inflection Ashed used, that he was really thinking he was glad that both of them were actually eating lunch instead of already eating it. Perhaps Claude catches that little thing because he knows Dimitri has absolutely lost track of time occasionally, whenever he doesn't have his phone to set off alarms for him, and that means spacing out on when lunch has passed. Dinner only gets a pass because Dimitri has associated "dinner" with "night time". Well, whatever works. 

With two new marks primed for the moment, Hilda turns to face them with a beaming smile. "Hey, Ashe! Hey Lorenz! We were just talking about putting together Marianne's furniture, and then we'd be all set for unpacking!" 

"Oh, is that so?" Lorenz does a quick sweep over for the lot of them before he decisively nods. "Well, you're all in the middle of lunch, so why don't I go set up some of your furniture, Marianne? I can't imagine it will be too hard." 

"Awww, thank you, Lorenz! You're the best - I bet you'll do a great job at putting it all together!" And Hilda is sincere, too, which is what always snags people. 

Claude decides not to say anything, instead helping himself to some of the chips that came free with Dimitri's sandwich and that the blond is very much not eating. Lorenz wasn't there, after all, when Marianne initially moved into her previous apartment. Or, that is to say, he was there, existing in the vicinity of their friends group, but he wasn't so close to hear about how Claude and Hilda both naively offered to help put together Marianne's furniture back then. 

He's definitely never heard of how that was truly a day that tested Claude and Hilda's friendship, and the tool set they were using, and perhaps the continued existence of Marianne's bedroom and really the apartment as a whole. 

Honestly, a little bit of humble pie will probably be good for him, Claude reflects as Lorenz very obviously preens at Hilda's encouragement and thanks. It's been a while. This might work out. 

His own avoidance of having anything to do with putting together Marianne's furniture is rewarded around half an hour later, after Marianne and Dimitri have finished their lunch, while Claude and Hilda have organized the boxes from the heaviest and biggest to the smaller more manageable types. At some point near the beginning of their little lunch, Ashe had excused himself to go help Lorenz with the furniture... and so that's where the four of them find their companions, sitting in the middle of a sort-of empty room, having a stand off with very uncooperative pieces of what's... probably a shelving unit, Claude recognizes, making a face as he sees an old foe. 

Poor Ashe. He brought this on himself and no one else is the truly tragic thing, sitting there cross legged, adorable brow scrunched up as though he's trying to figure out the mathematical and psychological nightmare that is the pieces scattered before him. 

Diagonal from him would be Lorenz, hair pulled back into a sloppy bun, knees digging into the hard wood floor of Marianne's new bedroom as he leans forward in an attempt to murderously glare the various parts into submission. It doesn't seem to be working well so far. Inhaling a frustrated breath through flared nostrils, Lorenz calms himself enough to speak over to Marianne. "I apologize, Marianne. I'm afraid we are having... some difficulty." 

"I'm so sorry, Lorenz..." Marianne curls her hands together in front of her chest. "I should have finished eating my lunch sooner so that I could have come up to help..." 

Wrapping her arms around Marianne's shoulders and squeezing, Hilda says, "It was probably for the best that you didn't! You know what they say about too many cooks in the kitchen! And, well, you have a tendency of making things messier, Mari." 

Marianne sighs at that, because it's not really something that can be denied, and Dimitri looks at everyone with a couple of befuddled blinks. "Would you mind if I tried to help, then?" he asks, gesturing down to the assorted pieces of something that is arguably furniture. 

Already, it's obvious that Lorenz is going to refuse the assistance, because this is now a Challenge To His Honor, and also it's cowardly for a gentleman to back out of an offer he's made himself, or... something like that. Claude doesn't really get it. However, the good news for all of them, and especially Lorenz and Marianne, is that Ashe is apparently more tactical than Claude ever gave him credit for. He takes one look at the stubborn tilt to Lorenz's mouth, and looks up to Dimitri with an apologetic look. "I don't want to be a bother... but if you wouldn't mind, Dimitri?"

It's been obvious this entire time that Dimitri has been just looking for an excuse to leap in anyway, and the manner in which he perks up excitedly just gives it all away. "Oh, of course!" he says, smiling and stepping over the scattered bits of furniture. "Now, let's see how this all works... I hope you don't mind if this may take a little bit, Marianne. Ah, pardon me, Lorenz." 

This may take a little bit. That's a huge damn laugh, honestly. Even as all of them stand in place to watch, Dimitri immediately and happily gets to fitting together different pieces to other pieces, pulling into existence an actual physical and functional piece of furniture. There's no signs of struggle, no frustration, not even a whimper of a swear. In what seems like no time at all, Dimitri is himself personally and carefully maneuvering Marianne's bookshelf up against a wall. "Is this a good place, do you think, Marianne?" 

With eyes as wide as saucers, Marianne manages to snap out of it and goes over to direct Dimitri to where the bookshelf needs to go. While the two of them are doing that, and Lorenz is staring in complete jealousy, Claude leans in towards Hilda and Ashe. "Of course my viking boyfriend understands Ikea," he mutters. 

All Ashe does is give a slow nod, experience mingled in with the admiration he stares at Dimitri with. "He did the same thing when we moved into our apartment," he murmurs back to Claude. All Claude can do in response is whistle. Truly his boyfriend is a man of many bewildering talents. 

Still, that does take care of the question of who the furniture responsibility falls to. While Dimitri continues to do things like make Marianne's bedframe, or put together little side tables for her, the rest of them take to steadily unpacking and organizing Marianne's things. It's honestly not something that they all need to be here for... Probably just Dimitri and Marianne would be fine. Or, well - If Dimitri is taking care of furniture, then someone taking care of unpacking and organizing alongside Marianne would be good too. She has a tendency to make things just a little messier when she's on her own, sometimes. 

Yet it's nice to help out, and all of them clearly have nowhere else truly pressing to be. While some of Dimitri's rock music plays from the living space, the blond in question can't stop smiling even while he places down Marianne's bedside stand. It's enough to make Claude grin himself, although his own curiosity would never let him stay back on just grinning. "What's got you in such a good mood, Mitya? I didn't know you were that excited to get a new roommate." 

"Well, no, not exactly-" But then his brain catches up to the words coming out of his mouth, and Dimitri hastily turns over to where Marianne is taking out some horse figurines out from a lovingly packaged box. "Which isn't to say that I'm not glad to have you here, Marianne!" he corrects hastily. "You're a lovely person, and have been a fine friend. I doubt I could ask for a better roommate." 

Allowing Hilda the honor of delicately handling the horse figurines into place, Marianne smiles over at him. "I understand." 

Relieved that his rudeness hasn't hurt anyone, Dimitri looks back to Claude. "It's just, Marianne have talked indepth about when we will get an apartment cat. It's been a long time since I've been able to have a pet... When I first moved in, I had a little rat as a pet, to keep me company, whose name was Vriskers." 

"A... rat?" Lorenz says, sounding faintly queasy as he stops in place where he's organizing Marianne's CDs and books. 

"Vriskers," Hilda whispers, putting the latest horse figurine down so that she can clasp her hands together near her mouth, eyes shining. Claude, for his part, has to say that he's never been more delighted or in love with a man before. 

Ashe has definitely heard of Vriskers the rat before, considering the fond smile he's been wearing all this time, and so all his nod does is give additional confirmation. "He used to bite into your sleeve if you let him roam free on you and he wanted attention, didn't he?" he says fondly. "It was really cute." 

Honestly, it's a good thing Ashe is around to give Dimitri some well needed rat validation, considering the hysterically worried expression crumpling Lorenz's face as he very clearly tries to reconcile his mental image of something someone of his background would only have considered to be "filthy vermin". Well, maybe even without Ashe, things would be fine. After all, Marianne looks positively besotted with just the idea of dear ol' Vriskers. "He sounds so sweet," she sighs, stars practically in her eyes. "Do you have any pictures of him? I would love to see them after we get done with all of this.." 

Plans are immediately made, over furniture construction and horse figurine unpacking, to see the apparently hundreds of pictures Dimitri took of his pet rat that he still keeps stored on his computer. Over their heads, Claude can see Lorenz closing his eyes and doing his best to make peace with the fact that some people love something known for grain theft and sewer living and a sign of the apocalypse. 

Ha. Maybe he would benefit from some pictures of a cute rat more than Marianne would. 





Three months into their roommate relationship, and Dimitri and Marianne have basically decided that they're going to get platonically married, for the benefits, and the benefits are basically the idea of owning a cat. 

It's almost kind of impressive, honestly. If Lorenz had been worried about a pair of mentally ill people sharing an apartment, in this case it looks like there's no reason to have ever been concerned. Claude wouldn't deny that there was definitely always the possibility of things going south because of that, yeah... But the result clearly isn't impossible. Marianne and Dimitri seem to be living proof of it, with both of them on medication, and Dimitri regularly checking in with his therapist and psychiatrist. They almost get along too well, whenever their friends check in on them, or whenever either of them talk about their brand new roommate to the rest of the group. 

(Both of them take turns on buying cat food and litter, with one always picking up the other. If Marianne decides to move out, she gets to take the cat with her so long as the other apartment accepts animals, but Dimitri still gets visitation rights. Claude is frankly impressed at the level of detail in their agreement. Lawyers would be. He wonders if they got Sylvain to help.) 

That's how he ends up getting recruited one day to meet Dimitri and Marianne at one of the local adoption centers, partially because he wants to be a part of this wonderful experience for his boyfriend and one of his best friends, but mainly because there's a genuine worry amongst their entire joined friends group that both of them might walk a way having adopted a dozen cats instead of just the one. That is, coincidences of coincidences, also why Ingrid decides to come along as well. 

Theoretically, this is not an issue. Claude has met Ingrid a couple of times while dating Dimitri. Purely in the context of being with Dimitri, he realizes on the way to the adoption center via subway. Well, that's not entirely strange, really. While he's on fairly friendly terms with all of Dimitri's immediate friends, Claude won't deny that he's closer to some of them than others. Sylvain is the most obvious one, of course; they've even got each other friended on their phones and play word games or online chess against each other regularly. 

Him and Dedue talk a lot too, with the kind of comfortable conversations that sometimes can't be had with their other friends, and Annette is a charming funny sort of girl that never backs down from a challenge. Through them, he of course has pretty decent relations with Mercedes and Ashe, who like him even more if he gets along with not only Dimitri but their own lovers. 

That leaves Felix and Ingrid. Felix, well, Claude thinks he could get along with Felix just fine, if he had more of a chance to talk with him. This surprised Dimitri, and shortly delighted him, when Claude told him as much, but it's true. Oh, sure, Felix is definitely not the kind of person who seems easy to get along with. He's abrasive, and blunt, and often doesn't see a reason to sugarcoat his words, especially when he thinks someone is being particularly dumb. Sometimes especially when he thinks they're being dumb and he's worried about what that could mean. 

Of course, the secret with Felix is that he's constantly worried and caring about other people being safe, whether from their own stupid decisions or the assholery from others. Claude isn't entirely sure if he's aiming for it, or if he's aware of it, but he knows Felix certainly seems to try and be a grounding force for when Ashe seems to be overstretching himself, or he helps picks up parts of a task Annette has overburdened herself with, which happens often with how much she seems to want to do. Watching him with Dimitri is liking watching a smaller and much yappier dog trying to herd their more oblivious golden counterpart. 

(Marianne really was on point when she thought of him as a Heeler.) 

Also, sometimes when Sylvain has to get off the phone for a hot second, he doesn't leave their games abandoned and sometimes tosses the next chess match to Felix, apparently. Felix has yet to get a win, which Claude is pretty sure infuriates him, but Claude finds his strategies so bold and fascinating that he never regrets a single match. 

Ingrid is, in contrast... Hm. If he had to place her on the scale of familiarity with all of Dimitri's other friends, he supposes he would group her with Mercedes and Ashe. Yet when he says "familiarity", he means it more in the way where he understands her personality type, and basic facts about her. For example, she's the kind of person with kind of strong sense towards duty that is guaranteed to make any employer who hires her fall in love, if they know what's good for her. This, he's learned whenever Dimitri manages to convince him to go iceskating with him over the winter, usually by being so damn endearing with that big ol' puppy eye of his and the shameless uses of bribery which promises hot food and cuddling. It hadn't escaped him how positively her supervisor had talked to her. 

Likewise, well, it's been extra impossible to miss just how much Ingrid loves horses. If Marianne and Dimitri had bonded over the idea over just getting a cat for their apartment, well... Marianne and Ingrid have had over a year to talk about horses. Some of the horse figurines in Marianne's new room are from Ingrid. Combine that with Ingrid's general gallant nature and Marianne's tendency to swoon for girls with strong shoulder muscles (Hilda's always end up in plain sight during the summer), and it's been like a match made in Heaven that has coincidentally let Claude learn a little more about Dimitri's other childhood friend. 

So it's just been things like that which he's grown familiar with. However, on a personal level? On a level of how two people can be close or warm to one another? They're not really that familiar at all to one another. Claude can't think of a single moment him and Ingrid have spent any real amount of time with another that wasn't facilitated because he was hanging out with Dimitri, or at Sylvain's place when she dropped by, things like that. 

That probably explains the bit of awkwardness on her end when the two of them meet up at the station, after she's managed to get off work for the day. It's easier this way - meeting up before finding their way together to the adoption center that Marianne and Dimitri managed to get to a good half an hour earlier. (Claude knows because Dimitri and Marianne both sent him two very excited cat pictures the second they stepped in through the door.) It's just one of those happy little coincidences, where her station is the same one that Claude's subway car is passing through, and he manages to flag her down with a combination of texting her and waving his arms from where he's sitting. 

Honestly, he'd be lying if he were to say that he isn't at least a little interested to see how Ingrid acts when it's just the two of them, and not Dimitri taking up all of their combined attention. So maybe he's paying a little more attention than usual as Ingrid makes her way over. Even if they aren't exactly the closest of friends, he's still sort of expecting her to take the seat down besides him, so it's incredibly interesting to him when she instead reaches up for one of the hanging handles instead. 

At least she seems to realize how strange it looks, because there's an awkward blush on her face that he's seen a couple of times on Dimitri's own face. Sometimes, it really surprises him that they're not actually related by blood. Just by spirit, it seems. "I've been sitting all day," she explains, a bit stiffly. "I'm sorry, I must have seemed really rude." 

"No problem," he says with a grin, leaning back in his seat and folding his hands behind his head. For some reason, that has her lips draw in a little bit, although it's not exactly an openly negative reaction. More a peculiar one. "Looks like we have the opposite problem, ha ha, although it's good to know that your boss gives you a seat. My manager keeps trying to sneak some in for whoever is on register duty, but sometimes we have to use them elsewhere, or as a spare seat for someone. Anyway, so did Marianne send you a cat picture?" 

Bingo - that's what gets her to smile a little bit again, all fondness and warm eyes. "Yes, she did. I'm glad that at least she's going to get something she's been wanting for so long... She's talked about having a pet for as long as I've known her. I just didn't realize Dimitri felt the same..." 

"Well, you know him," Claude says casually, shrugging as their car gets going once again. He can keep track of what stops they hit with his eyes closed, so Claude just relaxes, talking here with Ingrid. "Sometimes he forgets to say things, or just prefers to keep quiet. I mean, I'm dating the guy!" Claude laughs. "He didn't even give me a chance to flirt back before he clammed up and disappeared on me!" 

"Right..." What, no laugh back? Claude guesses he isn't surprised at Ingrid's rather reserved answer. He can't imagine anyone hitting on her at the ice skating-slash-duck feed without getting some of that feed straight to the head. His suspicions are proven correct when she sighs. "You know, I'm still truly sorry that incident happened in the first place. You know how Dimitri is, exactly as you said. He'd never done something like flirt with someone while they were on the clock." 

Claude finds it fascinating that, even in his absence, Ingrid is still trying to make Dimitri the focus. He's given her a couple of different topics to choose from, whether jobs or cats, but no. That little nugget of information gets stored away in the back of his head, where it may or may not be used. For what? Who knows. He's not a fortune teller. "Honestly, if he hadn't made the first move, I might have!" Claude laughs, aiming for reassurance. "A tall, blond, handsome guy wanders into my coffee shop and I'm not supposed to do anything about that?" 

Granted, there are some details about that which he's not really mentioning, like how Dimitri, at the time, had looked like he was going to commit a murder with his dead eyed glare and which is apparently just his tic for when he gets nervous - you know, like when he's moving up in a line right towards a very handsome coffee cashier who he's gotten an immediate attraction and crush on. (Claude is never going to stop being both flattered and endeared by that, frankly.) Additionally, while he jokes, and is friendly basically by capitalistic law, Claude rarely makes the first move when it comes to flirting in the workplace, when he's ever reciprocated at all... which is equally rare. He has standards, and those standards involve him not getting fired at his job or attracting the attention of weirdos. 

There are so many weirdos in customer service, unfortunately. 

Despite his joking, however, Ingrid doesn't laugh either, and simply purses her lips together like she's trying very, very hard not to say anything. Claude is dying to know what's on her mind. "Well, I suppose it's all's well that ends well," she says, which doesn't really address anything he's said. "So... Have you ever had a cat?" The words leave her mouth as though she's just remembering they exist and, connected to them, the whole reason for them meeting up together in the first place as they make their way to the adoption center. 

"I was always more of a lizard kind of guy," Claude says, keeping track of her reaction. "My dad even got me an iguana when I was a kid, although he was a shitstarter. We let him roam around the house however he wanted. He chose him when he was just a baby, when the guy in the shop brought out just this cardboard box full of baby iguanas. Most of them were chill, except for one which leapt forward looking positively feral. So, you know, that's the one my dad got." Pulling one hand from behind his head, Claude taps the tip of his nose. "One time I thought the iguana was dead because he was so still, but when I got close trying to see if he was still breathing, he leapt forward and bit my nose. Right on the bridge. I think you can still see the scar, although it's not that noticeable." 

It's a pretty funny story, he's always thought. But Ingrid is looking at him as though he just said that soft meat crowns are the next hip thing in fashion. "Oh," she says after a moment, because polite social constructs demand she respond with something instead of absolute dead silence. He has, apparently, just made things even more awkward between them. 

Maybe he should clear up what he suspects is a slight misconception. "It was just me being a dumb kid who didn't stop to think, you know," he tells her. "It wasn't like my father shoved my face right into the iguana's personal space himself or anything." Granted, there's a lot he could criticize his father on, sure. Same as with his mother. They're not perfect, they're only human, and he does love them still... But there are some things about them that he knows have held their relationship back. It's why he doesn't talk with his brothers anymore. 

That's all stuff Ingrid doesn't need to know about, however. That's stuff most people don't need to know about. The only people he's talked to about it in any depth, he supposes, would be Dedue and Dimitri, both knowing different little things about his family situation. Maybe one day, he'll especially talk about it more with Dimitri, a person who can keep secrets of any kind. 

For today, it's enough to let Ingrid know he isn't waging war against his own family, and she seems to relax a little bit. "Oh, of course. Well, we all do silly things when we're kids." 

"Wanna tell me about them?" he asks, and then, because he suspects that subtlety is something that most of Dimitri's childhood friends are occasionally oblivious to, he prods a little further with an addition of, "Or you could tell me why you actually don't want to sit down besides me." 

Frankly, he's expecting all sorts of different responses, as Ingrid grimaces sharply and her face flushes a burning red of embarrassment. One of her hands pulls away from where it had wound about the strap of her messenger back, instead going to rub at her face. What he's not expecting are the rush of words which form the frantic sentence, "You're too Sylvain." 

Claude blinks. Straightens up a little, while he's at it. Not because he's insulted or alarmed or anything. If he's anything, he's confused. Confused and... pretty sure he didn't actually understand Ingrid right. "Uh, sorry, can you-" 

The subway car suddenly begins to slow down, and Ingrid has to grab the handles again so that she doesn't go falling over awkwardly. Thanks to the benefits of sitting down, all Claude has to do is jerk one leg out, balance regained so that he doesn't smash his forehead right into Ingrid. "Nevermind," Claude says, as he gets up. This is their stop. "Let's get off the actively moving bit of public transportation before we hurt ourselves, huh? We can continue once it's a little easier to have a conversation." 

"Right." Letting out a slow breath, Ingrid nods. "Of course." The two of them wait for the doors to open, hopping out and double checking to make sure this really is their stop although Claude knows he's never wrong on these sorts of things. Once they're out of the dim and mildly smelly underground station, and up into comforting daylight once more, Ingrid sighs and rubs at her face. "So, about what I said before," she begins again, unable to meet his eyes. "You just... You remind me a lot of Sylvain, and it simply just - trips me up when I have to talk with you." 

While it brings a sort of huffing frown to her lips, Claude can't help but grin a little, and he quirks up an eyebrow. "Dimitri said that the four of you all grew up together. Childhood friends. Did I miss something, there? Because I thought that meant you liked him."

"I do!" Ingrid insists, turning to look at him in alarm that quickly morphs into exasperation. "But- You know how he is." Another pause, and she slowly narrows her eyes at him. "...Or maybe not..." 

"I know he's handsome, a real charmer, with a tongue made for flattery-" Claude begins, before Ingrid cuts him off with a wave of her hand and shake of her head. 

"Nevermind, you don't." It's said decisively, the tone of someone who has missed, at least for right now, that she's being messed with. Usually she's a bit more quicker on the draw compared to someone like Dimitri, who has missed blatant sarcasm just because he was preoccupied with something. Ingrid keeps going. "It's just that, for a very long time... It seemed like he never took things seriously enough. Occasionally, he still seems that way, and it just... drives me up the wall." Both of them come to a stop at a crosswalk whose sign shines red, and she allows her head to fall back with a sigh. "He really worries me, sometimes." 

"I see," Claude says, taking all of that in before he grins a little. "It seems like you care about him a lot, at least. But I didn't think he was really doing so badly that it would warrant a reaction like this." 

"I mean, the two of you are so similar, I'm not surprised." Ingrid hops off of the sidewalk as the two of them get going, the light a welcoming green. "But he always used to act like school, and anything else to do with academics, was always something to just be- put to the side and forgotten about. The only time I've ever seen him put real effort into things is when he's been forced to, or if one of the Eisners sends him a text message. He makes terrible jokes, too, usually about flirting... I mean, that one you should be familiar with, at least, considering how you first met him."

It's true, they did meet when Sylvain decided to give both his own number and the number of his equally tall and much more intimidating friend to some hapless cashier-slash-barista that was working on the clock and really wasn't making any signs that he was so much as available. That's not exactly the best first impression one could make, although it definitely doesn't even place on the list of worst first impressions. 

But he's seen how how utterly disinterested Sylvain is in just about anyone, with the way he'd been flirting with Claude that first time similar to the baseless compliments he'd pass to the occasional girl when they'd hung out together somewhere public. For Claude, it had been easy to spot the signs: a charming smile that is all too practiced, completely unoriginal pick up lines and teasing, the distance in his gaze where it never really landed on whoever he was talking with. More than once, he's seen Sylvain completely dismiss or sidestep a girl even at the same time that it looked as if he were flirting, or returning her attentions. 

Maybe Claude simply knows Sylvain well enough by now to pick up on little signals like that. In all honesty, he can't see how anyone could miss it if they've ever seen the wistful and sweet looks Sylvain sends Felix when the other man isn't looking. 

He always figured him and Sylvain were alike. While Claude would never say that he's kept almost completely separate selves depending on his friends, he can still understand the quiet secrecy of acting a certain way with someone out of old habits, and whatever other reasoning Sylvain might be keeping to himself. 

Claude will freely admit to being nosy. It's probably his biggest strength and his biggest weakness, and is probably going to get him into all sorts of trouble one day. Who is he kidding - it's already gotten him into plenty of trouble as it is. But he would never make himself be so nosy that he would go poking into other people's businesses, especially when him and Ingrid are on some levels still more strangers than they are friends. 

So he won't play therapist, or shove his nose too deeply into this strange little dynamic he's noticed between two people who are apparently childhood friends. Instead, he just grins at her a little. "Maybe if he's still acting like that around you, it means he's able to relax or something. I mean, he was Dimitri's roommate for a while, right?" Another little thing he's picked up just by listening to his boyfriend. He doesn't know the details, exactly. Dimitri seems to shy away from going indepth about that time. But he's mentioned it regardless, and it makes sense in why he went to speak with Sylvain first before bringing his idea up to Marianne.

It's definitely enough to make Ingrid pause, thoughtful and surprised in equal measure. "I... suppose you're not wrong. It's... funny, I guess, that I'd forgotten about that time, even though I'd been- well, a lot had been happening around that time. I've just gotten so used to him acting the same as he always has..." Claude files that impression away, too. He can't help himself. At any rate, he has no idea if he's made Ingrid think about Sylvain any differently. All she does is shake her head before she looks over to him. "At any rate... I wanted to apologize." 

"Apologize for what?" Claude asks, half because he isn't exactly sure although he has his suspicions, and half because it's always good to make sure an apology is clear. 

It shows a lot about Ingrid that she just, accepting the quiet nudge. She clearly has her own issues to work through, but at the same time, she's trying. That's more than he can say for, like, what? Half the customers that come through the Golden Deer? "I'm sorry about letting my issues with Sylvain bleed onto you. You're your own person, after all." Expertly dodging someone trying to hand out free CDs, all while not making eye contact, Ingrid presses her hand to her forehead with a groan. "It's especially embarrassing because I told Dimitri that I would be nice to his boyfriend ages ago, when I first heard about you from him... I can't believe that I ended up messing up in an entirely different way." 

Grinning, he pats her on the back, since it seems safe enough to do so now. "Hey, at least we got it sorted out before it could get any worse, right? Which, and I can't speak for you, but I'm definitely grateful for. I think I would have lost it if I was stuck with someone who acted so stiffly around me and I had no idea why. Have you thought about maybe just relaxing a little bit...?" 

"I relax!" Ingrid protests, shoulders rising as if preparing for a fight. Felix does the same thing, sometimes. Actually, Felix does that all the time. Felix is a very fighty person. In some ways, he's perfect for social justice. "I do lots of relaxing things. I play fighting games with the guys, and-" She narrows her eyes at him, but he thinks he detects a hint of playfulness in the way she crosses her arms. "What we're doing right now is meant to be relaxing: playing with cats, and helping our friends pick one to take home." 

Claude winks. "Now, that remains to be seen if you can actually relax." 

"Have you considered that maybe you need to practice being a little more serious?" she asks, despite being well aware of the actual job he possesses, plus the not-technically-a-job-but-still-kinda-important work of his band. At least, he's pretty sure she's well aware. She is, right? Claude considers how she still thinks Sylvain is mentally thirteen years old, and reassesses his view of her view of him. 

"I've been doing fairly well so far," he says idly before he points ahead as a sign conveniently begins to get clearer with every step they take. "Hey, I think that's the place." 

It is in fact the place, the sign cheerfully informs them by way of a brilliantly green and neon sign which proclaims Nowi's Little Monster Vet Practice and Adoption Center. In a space like the city, it's made a point of having enough space for all sorts of things, including what he's pretty sure is a small fenced area out back for some sort of kennel service... and definitely enough space for all manner of adoptable animals or pets that have been left for slightly more serious injuries or illnesses. Claude is pretty sure that Marianne has mentioned volunteering here back in high school, for some sort of program that her school was a part of. 

There are three doors for the two separate functions the building possesses: one door for anyone with cats, one door for anyone with dogs, and one that leads to the actual adoption side of Nowi's Little Monsters. Claude isn't entirely sure what they do for anyone who brings in, say, a lizard, or a bird, or some manner of rodent, at least until he takes a quick second to glance over at the sign inbetween the two vet doors. It cheerfully proclaims that, so long as the pet in question is in a container that is kept out of reach of any larger and more inquisitive animals, along with being watched at all times, those kinds of pet owners can go into whatever door they wish. 

Well, with space as it is in the city, he guesses it would be a lot to ask for if they had a fourth door for varios miscellaneous pets. 

The adoption center part of Nowi's Little Monster is pretty cozy, with a small set of doors and miniature room inbetween both that act as what Claude can only assume is a barrer of sorts so that it's a lot harder for any wandering pets to escape. Considering that the cat adoption section seems to follow the rules of "let them be free" with cats roaming all around and making themselves cozy wherever they please, from one trying to make a home on the keyboard the receptionist is actively trying to use to another that makes a beeline right for Claude's shoelaces as soon as he takes a step inside... That's probably a wise choice. 

It's not very hard to find Dimitri and Marianne once they're inside. That would be because Claude nearly trips over Dimitri's sprawled out feet, and Marianne's lip wobbling attracts queer girls (and anyone in that vague vicinity of gender) from a fifty mile radius. The good news is that it's not because Marianne is sad, and Dimitri is also not dying. It's rather that both of them have apparently been here long enough to both get absolutely covered in cats. Marianne especially looks as though she's ascended to the best kind of afterlife: one that means being given attention by cats who don't know her. 

As politely as she can manage, Ingrid raises a hand to cover her wide and amused smile so that it doesn't come off as somehow rude or making fun of them. Claude has no such reservations, immediately fishing out his phone so that he can snap a picture as he grins widely. "So, it looks like you two are having fun," he comments casually, admiring the shot he's taken: Marianne in the throes of too much cat affection and attention, Dimitri's usually black clothes now completely unrecoverable from the fur that is clinging to them. It's adorable and hilarious in equal measure. 

The person over at the receptionist (does one even call a cat adoption center person a receptionist) desk doesn't even look up. They're too busy trying to convince the not-quite-a-calico fluffmonster in their hands to stop batting at their earrings, one hand with a yellow-white-purple-black wristband getting caught up in the fray. "I've never seen so many cats swarm a person or two that quickly without food being involved," the maybe-a-receptionist says casually, grinning a little bit. The cat they're trying to pry away meows pitifully. "Hey, hush you, no one's talking about you." 

Carefully holding her messenger bag close, Ingrid crouches down besides Marianne with a smile. "It looks like you won't be wanting for choice," she tells her, resting one hand along her animal loving girlfriend's shoulder. "That's good, isn't it?" 

Apparently, the goodness of this situation is highly debatable, because Marianne looks up at Ingrid with blue eyes that absolutely shimmer with an overflowing amount of cat love. "They've all been abandoned," she tells Ingrid, with the soft pain of someone who is well aware that she cannot take home every single cat that exists without a place to call their own, let alone every cat that is currently sitting on or around her.

You know, Claude has to say that he kind of expected this result, at least on Marianne's end. Tucking away his cell after sending the picture to Sylvain, who he knows will find it hilarious, he crouches down besides his boyfriend. A cat that looks like the penultimate collection of every bit of shed fur amassed onto one creature is sitting on Dimitri's face; Claude has no idea how he's still breathing. All he does know is that the cat is pretty docile, allowing itself to be picked up and deposited on somewhere that isn't directly over the face holes of a human being who needs those to breathe. 

"Having difficulty deciding?" he asks mildly, grinning down at Dimitri. 

Dimitri stares up at him as though he's learned what true suffering is. "Cats will care for us no matter the sins we commit," he says, in that achingly dramatic way he sometimes gets into, often during moments that don't even remotely call for it. Claude's favorite recollection of such a moment would have to be when Dimitri's car kept breaking down, and he grumbled about how the damned ruin the lives of the living and, in particular, his car transmission. 

Sometimes, Claude really does adore that his life has lead him to meeting people such as Lorenz and Dimitri. It guarantees he doesn't have boring days. 

"That's because cats don't have morals, Dimitri," he reminds his boyfriend, raising his hand up automatically for a cat somehow similar to the one the not-a-receptionist is trying to shove off their desk. Which is kind of funny, since this one is orange and white instead of varios shades of brown, black, and white, but Claude is pretty sure it has something to do with the fluff. "Cats care for anyone who gives them food and stays still long enough." 

Well, that, and Marianne just, automatically, for some mystical reason that science cannot explain but probably has something to do with her having, like, fae or witch blood in her or something. Marianne has enough strange animal stories to make up a book, and that would make any person on a social media site call her a liar for even one of them. Raphael thinks she can genuinely talk to birds, and Claude isn't entirely sure the big guy is wrong. 

Now at least partially free of being a cat lounge chair, Dimitri pushes himself up onto his elbows. A puffy cat that is almost pure orange refuses to budge, and just kind of stays there diagonally while Dimitri looks up at Claude properly. "We thought we would choose one that's friendly, with minimal issues," he tries to explain. While he does so, another cat (various shades of brown, dark stripes on the back, white face) bumps its head against his ear and experimentally chews on his hair. Dimitri ignores this. "However, so many of the cats here fit that description... It has been near impossible to choose." 

Marianne gives a long and morose sigh of agreement. "They all seem to be such good cats... It seems like all of them would be a perfect fit for the apartment." 

While their job was always to make sure that bringing all the cats to the now jointly owned apartment, Ingrid doesn't seem to know what to do now that the situation is actually present and happening in front of her. She glances past Marianne, up over at Claude, with her thoughts clearly churning in her head as she tries to figure out a way to solve this dilemma. This entirely self-made dilemma, granted, but a dilemma nonetheless. "Well," she starts, slowly, still thinking even as she speaks. "Is there a cat that you think is particularly pretty, or cute? I imagine that's one way to help at least narrow down your choices." 

"I'm sorry..." Sighing, Marianne shakes her head. "They all seem far too cute. I don't know how we can choose." Right as she's speaking, one of her hands starts to idly pet a white cat whose fur doesn't seem to know where it should grow as 'fluffy' or 'smooth'. Its eyes don't seem to fit properly in its own skull. Claude knows without verbalizing a single one of his thoughts that Marianne thinks it's an absolute sweetheart of a cat. 

"I managed to mark out the ones that have significant health problems, or seem just a little too old," Dimitri adds, to his credit. Trying not to dislodge the cat still laying contentedly on his chest, he wiggles his hand fruitlessly towards his pants pocket... only for the cat to decide that this is obviously the last straw, and it walks off of him. Now free of the furry menace, although he's left blinking in confusion on why that minuscule action got a cat off of him, Dimitri takes his phone out properly. 

On the app he normally uses for taking notes to input into his journals properly later on, Dimitri has composed a list of various names, each one accompanied by a quick description that helps distinguish the cats from one another and various ailments or issues that each cat seems to possess. While it's unfortunate and disappointing to see that the list is so large, Claude can't say he's surprised, either. There are plenty of reasons to abandon a pet, or need to give one up... but health issues are definitely one of the top reasons that drive people to do it. No wonder the adoption center has so many cats like this. 

Dimitri's thumb grinds against the side of his phone. "If it were only myself, I'd adopt any one of them," he admits quietly to Claude, voice lower than Marianne or Ingrid can hear. Claude just nods, not looking at Dimitri's eyepatch, and thinking briefly of the pill container that's present every time he eats dinner at Dimitri's place. "However, I didn't want Marianne to think that it's her fault that we're leaving any of them here. The cat will be her responsibility, fiscally and otherwise, if we decide that our match as roommates is not much of a match. I don't want to unduly burden her with a cat that needs so much attention." 

"And you talked to her about this?" Claude prompts, well used to people who make decisions like this without input from anyone else, no matter how it might affect those 'anyone else's. So it's a relief to see Dimitri give a nod as his answer. "Well, if things go well with this cat, and the cat seems good for it, you can always get a second cat, right? I know your apartment's rules, you should be fine if you do that. Then the two of you can each have your own cat." A pause, and he grins again. "Although knowing the two of you, it would go right into joint ownership anyway with both of you spoiling two different cats to ridiculous degrees, but hey." 

That gets Dimitri to huff out a soft laugh again, turning his head all the way so that he can smile at Claude with that brilliant blue eye of his shining so warmly. It gets him every time. "You know... That sounds nice." 

"I thought you would like the idea." Claude winks at him. When he speaks again, it's at a normal conversational volume. "Still, before all of that, you two need to actually make a decision." 

Ingrid cracks her knuckles, a wholly intense vibe that is absolutely not necessary for the mundane and cute activity of helping their friends pick a cat to adopt. It reminds Claude of Leonie, who is very much the same, and he wonders how long until the two women meet for possibly the greatest friendship that has ever been known. He wonders how many seconds it would take to kill Lorenz in the presence of two such women. "Well, if you were able to make a list marking out some types of cats, then we'll continue to do that, but with different characteristics. There have to be other reasons to not take one cat over the other, don't you think?" 

"I agree," Claude says, nodding his head. "It seems like you two were already on the right track as it was, so now we just have to keep going." Pushing himself up onto his feet, he accepts Dimitri's phone. "Hold on, let me see if I can borrow a piece of paper and a pen, too..." If they're going to do this sort of thing, then they may as well make a sheet too, right? Or is it just him that thinks that? 

Either way, no one stops him, and eventually they start a long process of cat selection. As it turns out, four heads can be better than just two, especially when the other two heads aren't shot in the heart by the cuteness of cats. Together, Ingrid and Claude stand by the desk of the adoption center employee, coming up with different traits or requirements. While they do that, Marianne and Dimitri idle from one spot in the center to another, inspecting different cats as they ponder their choices. 

There are a lot of things to disqualify a cat, once him and Ingrid start prodding their friends with the right questions. Long hair is disqualified, because the brushing seems like something that would be too much trouble with Marianne working her many shifts at the used bookshop, and Dimitri admits that he's not sure if he would be able to remember to do it constantly himself - not yet, at any rate. It takes some deciding on if they want a cuddly cat, or one that's more playful, before the latter is what they come to a decision on. Fortunately, age seems to be something they were already agreed on before they even set foot inside the adoption center. Too old would be a lot of work, unfortunately, and too young would mean spending a lot of time on training the younger kitten. 

It's not only Ingrid and Claude who prod the pair on what exactly they're looking for as well. The center employee speaks up occasionally as well, considering the kind of living area that is going to be available for the future cat, and just what jobs Marianne and Dimitri do. Finances and work schedules will influence a cat a lot, after all, even if there's not a cat alive that really understands capitalism. 

Eventually, after a lot of discussion and a couple of other people coming in for various reasons or to look at cats as well, Marianne and Dimitri finally seem settled on a couple of cats in particular. All of the cats want their attention, that hasn't changed despite how long they've all been here... but the two of them have made sure to coax three in particular to stay around them as they think carefully. 

Honestly, now that the list has been narrowed down to three in particular... Claude can see how things are really tough now. Each of the three relatively young cats is adorable in their own way, most of them content to just lounge around Dimitri and Marianne's legs as they kneel there on the floor. If they were suffering when Claude and Ingrid first stepped inside from indecision and way too much love for the feline existence as a whole, then Dimitri and Marianne look even worse now that they are all that closer to making an actual to gods choice. Here, Claude is pretty sure him and Ingrid can't really help. A choice like this is nothing less than luck and subjectivity. 

"I can tell how much each of them would love to go to a forever home," Marianne murmurs, gently scratching the chin of a pretty little grey cat with eyes so green that they could give Claude a run for his money. "Should we draw straws? Maybe that would be easier..." 

"I want to say that they all deserve something a little more indepth than that..." Dimitri drags a hand across his face, sitting cross legged on the ground. A black cat with white mitten marks bumps their head against his knee, and he looks like he's actively dying. Sympathetically, Marianne leans down with her head right alongside his, and places one hand on his shoulder. 

Sighing with no small amount of sympathy herself, Ingrid looks back towards the center employee. "I'm sorry about all of this... We meant to leave much sooner." 

Claude isn't quite as repentant, grinning back at them. "Hey, from what I read, I thought we could stay here until closing time, at the very least." 

"If you volunteer to clean the litterboxes, you can stay all through the night," the employee says, sounding just a little too serious. 

Yet there ends up to be no reason for them to be reduced into bartering with an adoption center worker on litter box chores. As if understanding the conversation which is underway, the final cat moves forward. He's a slick blond and white one, with lovely blue eyes that honestly makes him a perfect match for Dimitri. With complete and casual confidence, he trots over to Dimitri and Marianne. The other two cats are firmly ignored. They're not his target. No, he has grander ideas than that, apparently, because he hops right onto Dimitri's legs, braces his legs against his shoulder, and bites Marianne's jaw. 

This third cat begins to purr, obnoxiously. Dimitri and Marianne both look as though they've gotten a divine revelation. 

After having his heart apparently purred out of his chest, Dimitri turns to Marianne, the question already on his lips even as she's nodding at him at the very same time. "So, this one, then? It's a sign." With Marianne beaming and Dimitri ecstatic, he looks back to Ingrid and Claude. "It's decided." 

Incredible. The human mind really bases its decisions on some incredible things, sometimes. Well, so long as the cat makes them happy. That seems to be the views of the center employee, too, as they patiently push the furry ass out of the face from their very determined and needy feline friend. "Would you like to get to know him a little better in one of the private rooms? It might be helpful to get an idea of his temperament away from the other cats, when it's just the three of you." 

They both agree, because of course they do. With both of them gone, the rest of the cats end up completely uninterested in basically every single one of them, and that includes the employee. Well, mostly the employee. The two maybe-sibling cats still insist on bothering the hell out of them. Fortunately, they don't have to wait long. It takes ten minutes, maybe fifteen, before Dimitri and Marianne come out looking delighted. With that, well. That really does decide it all. 

There's more than a little bit of paperwork to fill out, and more paperwork to receive, including their new cat's medical information. Like a true pair of prepared cat parents, they've brought with them a little cat carrier and probably far more treats then one cat necessarily requires, or needs, or should ever have. Marianne only smiles when Ingrid delicately points this out to her. "Cats can be very picky," she explains. "I thought it would give us better chances if we had a small variety on hand. I'll make sure the other treats won't go to waste." 

"Have you considered that we've unleashed a pair of monsters onto the world?" Claude asks conversationally, watching as Dimitri tries to coax the new cat into the carrier and Marianne quietly but definitely grills the employee on if they knew if the cat has any aversions to driving. The latter seems to be going a bit better than the former. 

With her arms crossed, clearly trying to not agree, Ingrid takes in a breath. "They'll probably stick to just the one cat, I hope," she says, which seems to be just slightly a contradictory sentence. 

Claude grins, one hand resting on his hip. "Oh, they probably won't," he says far too cheerfully. "I told Dimitri that he should feel free to get a second one if all goes well." 

It is incredible, the speed at which Ingrid whips her head around to look at him. "Claude!" she hisses, affronted. "No!" 

He is, on a very surface level, starting to understand why Sylvain likes to tease her, now, or act childishly. Oh, Claude thinks he would probably die, if he ever had to deal with this kind of thing all the time... but maybe once, or twice, it's a little bit amusing. Claude chuckles. "Hey, it's their decision. I can't exactly stop him if he really wants to get a cat, and the same for Marianne." 

Heaving out the kind of heavy sigh that makes her shoulders fall, Ingrid rubs at her face slightly. "Even if that's true, you could at least..." In a turn of good fortune for him, Claude doesn't get to deal with anymore lecturing, because that's when Marianne and Dimitri finally finish up with cat and paperwork in tow. Distracted, Ingrid smiles at the two of them. "Oh, good. You're done. Did you decide to keep the name the cat arrived here with?" 

Marianne shakes his head. "We already decided on what names we would choose before we got here," she explains. "We made a list, depending on the cat... So, for him-" She gently rests one hand over the carrier that Dimitri is carrying. "We decided to go with." 

"Lew?" Claude asks, raising one eybrow. 

"L-o-o-g," Dimitri clarifies, and wears a barely restrained smile when Claude groans in dismay. 

Stepping forward, Claude takes Dimitri's face in both of his hands. "I love you so much," he tells his boyfriend somberly, "but you and your names test me every day, Mitya." 

It would be much easier to play at despair if his boyfriend wasn't like this, able to smile at him so sweetly from underneath his eyelashes. "You said you love me," he says quietly, adoring just at the sound of his nickname. 

Damn him and his cunning turn around, how he knows that Claude falls so easily for that sort of dorky romance. Groaning, he leans forward and lets his head fall against Dimitri's chest. "I've said it a thousand times before, and yet I keep falling for when you pull this on me," he tells Dimitri, not quite able to put on a scolding tone. "How dare you out-clever me." 

Dimitri's hands are kind of full, with one still holding onto his phone with an app full of impressions and the list of names Claude wrote down for him, and the other keeping a hold of the newly named Loog. All he can do, which is more than enough, is lean against Claude with his face nuzzling into his hair. It reminds him, just a little bit, of the way Dimitri does the very same in the mornings after they've slept together. "Oh, I'm not being clever at all," Dimitri murmurs. "I believe that's the trick." When Claude pulls away, chuckling, Dimitri has a brilliant smile on his face. 

"You took the underground here, didn't you?" Marianne asks them, fingers folded delicately around Ingrid's hand. She doesn't have nearly as much to carry as Dimitri does, considering he has the actual cat, but she is holding a folder full of papers close to her chest. "You should come back with us to- the apartment. We took Dimitri's car to get here." 

In the back of his head, Claude wonders how long it will take her to start referring to the place as her apartment, their apartment. Well, she can take her time with it. For now, he just grins, and nods his agreement when Ingrid brightly says, "That would be great, Marianne. We can get to know Loog some more as well." 

From the cat carrier, Loog gives an absolutely pitiful meow. Claude can't tell if it's because he ends up hating the car ride, or the carrier itself. 

To say he goes to Dimitri's place every day would be patently untrue. After all, sometimes Dimitri goes to his place, and seems happy to very politely explore Hilda's Animal Crossing town. Other times, they just hang out in other places. Lately, Claude has made sure to especially limit his visits, just so it's not too strange while Marianne has been adjusting. He still drops by, and it's nice to see both his boyfriend and one of his close friends at the same time... but there's no point in overloading the two of them as they've adjusted to each other. As time has passed, he's dropped by more, sure, but he's still not pushing anything. 

The last time Claude dropped by was a week ago. So it's quite a surprise to see the little changes the apartment has gone through in the time he's been gone. Some of it is stuff he's long adjusted to, the little signs of Marianne's presence. A couple of potted plants soak in the sunlight near the large windows that take up most of the space in the area that is, occasionally and during parties, a dining area, and there are a couple of soothing scented candles propped up here and there. Claude notes that the latter have been moved, far away from any edges that could tempt a feline into batting them around. The plants, too, are ones he's read won't cause any illness or harm to cats. 

There are some additional pillows on the couch, now, in a state of constant movement where Marianne needs to hug something, or from where Dimitri flops onto them. A large and sinfully soft blanket has been draped across the chair, a playful lion cub depicted on it. Claude is pretty sure it's from Etsy. What used to be slightly barren walls have been decorated, now, by both of them once Dimitri remembered that, oh yeah, you don't need to have blank and boring walls. What takes the place of pride, however, would be a calendar featuring large pictures of various adorable kittens. Each day up until the present has been carefully crossed out in sky blue marker. 

Claude is used to all of that. What's new would be - well, a lot of things. As he enters, Claude takes note of a litterbox tucked away in a corner far away from the door, and he thinks he sees the top of another one when he glances up at the landing for the upper portion of the apartment. A frankly impressive cat tree-condo sort of thing, all pale cream rope and scratching post with soft brown fabric, has been set up in its own corner, a decent distance away from the litterboxes. There are multiple little nooks for the cat to slip into, a diagonal scratching post leading up to one of them, and plenty of little platforms. 

Such a big thing like that definitely draws the eye... but there's other things, too. For example, a small little platform, elevated off of the ground, holds two bowls for water and food, although one of them is empty for obvious reasons. Another, smaller scratching post has been placed to the side, nearer to the actual furniture of the apartment. A small fabric box of some sort is set near towards that post, in fact, holding what look like a variety of tiny little toys to be played with. A larger toy, some sort of plastic thing with balls on tracks inside of it, has been carefully set to somewhere with just enough space for a cat to sprawl around while also not in a position where a human would step on it with their delicate bare human feet in the middle of the night. 

While Dimitri puts the cat carrier down to whisper soft things at Loog and make him feel more at ease in what is surely a strange and new place in more ways than one, Ingrid catches something Claude hadn't, and she points at a little spot right near the door where Dimitri and Marianne hang their coats. "Is that... a miniature clothing rack?" she asks slowly. 

It is. It is a very tiny little clothing rack, like something that a kid would have for their doll. Not a barbie doll or anything, but something more like a life-sized baby doll sort of deal. Instead of proper hangers, there are instead clips dangling from the bar. Nothing is there yet, it's completely empty... but there's a promise in its existence. 

Marianne and Dimitri look back over to them, just about to open the cat carrier. "Yes?" Marianne says tentatively, in the tone of someone who knows she has made a very peculiar life choice but is damn well going to stick by it. "We'd like to get clothes for him one day, if he doesn't mind them..." 

A sharp inhale of breath nearly whistles through Claude's teeth as he forces back the desire to laugh, but it takes a hand to cover his mouth and the resulting smile. It's just... so adorable, how fully Marianne and Dimitri have thrown themselves into this. He wouldn't be surprised to find a couple of cat beds around the place, and suspects they're in Dimitri and Marianne's respective rooms. "Well, I guess the future is going to be a fun one for Loog,"  he says, shaking his head. 

The immediate future most of all, as Loog seems to have no issues at all with leaving his crate. In fact, he seems to have the very opposite of an issue, darting out and stretching happily. The apartment is more a curiosity than a threat, with him approaching all of it with the same upfront curiosity that he'd displayed when he'd first approached Dimitri and Marianne at the adoption center. He walks like he owns the place already and this is all merely a formality, hopping from the couch and chairs, even daring to leap over onto the kitchen counter while Dimitri and Marianne frantically shoo him off. 

Honestly, it's kind of hilarious watching this cat decide that it's definitely already the owner of the apartment, and how Dimitri and Marianne have to reconcile with this fact. Ingrid laughs besides him, more relaxed than she's probably been all day, whether that was when she had to awkwardly ride the subway with Claude or her business-like attitude as she'd helped narrow down the selection of cats. "It looks like you decided to adopt a troublemaker, Dimitri," she says, teasing him just a little bit. "Maybe we should have asked Felix to come along today. He knows how to handle cats." 

"That's because Felix is a cat," Dimitri says, with some faint exasperation as he grabs Loog out of midair before it has a chance to land on top of the fridge. Claude has to suck in another breath again, and he can't tell if it's because of the completely accurate assessment of one Felix Fraldarius, or the bewildered look on Loog's face at what's just happened to him. "He understands their language down to the intricacies, like believing that to sit in the same room is the exact same as indepth social interaction, or that biting is a legitimate form of play." 

Even Marianne starts to softly laugh into her hand at that, accepting Loog when Dimitri passes the feline over. "Cats do like people who act like them," she says, eyes shining over her little smile. It's a good expression on her, one that Claude knows most of their friends group has been adoring in its commonness nowadays. "Felix's personality is perfect for it... even if he never loved cats to start with." 

So Felix's innate feline nature combined with his absolute adoration of cats means he can probably charm that particular animal more than anything else in existence, besides somehow people, who often seem to endup liking the little shithead. Claude doesn't think he'll ever stop adoring Dimitri's wide and bizarre circle of friends. While him and Marianne start following the cat around like hapless parents, Claude goes to lean against the couch so that he can watch them. 

After politely undoing her boots to leave by the door, Ingrid eventually follows after him for much the same reason. Dimitri and Marianne make an entertaining sight, after all, watching like hawks to ensure that all their attempts to cat-proof the apartment have not been in vain... or, at least, they'll have more success than the top of the fridge. As they watch, Claude glances at Ingrid from the corner of his eye. "You know, Dimitri mentioned that he had a rat at one point, but I've never heard about him having any other pets. Felix had a cat as a kid, that was probably obvious from the start... but anything else I don't know about? You've all known each other since you were kids, after all." 

Before them, Loog tests one of Dimitri's exercise machines with his paw, and Dimitri and Marianne whisper something to each other. Probably on how safe Loog will be if Dimitri is actively using any of his machines. Ingrid watches all of this absently, her head cocked to the side as she considers Claude's question. "Well... I know Dimitri's family used to have a lot of dogs, when we were kids. When.. it was only him..." She says it carefully, slowly, watching him now instead of Dimitri and Marianne. 

Claude knows that look, has seen it in plenty of places from plenty of people before. It's the kind of look a person gets on their face when they're testing the waters, uncertain of how much the other party knows of a particularly delicate subject. She can't have known of that night only a couple of days after Halloween, of a date that had gone a little off-track from what Dimitri had planned for them, of how the two of them had sat shoulder to shoulder with delicate little bits of sugar and frosting before them as they'd talked about loss. 

It's pretty much a given that all of Dimitri's close friends, from those who had been there in his childhood to those who live just down the hall from him, know about what happened to his parents, that they died. Claude has picked up on this ever since he started dating Dimitri, unable to help himself. He wants to say that it's obvios to anyone who's watching, but he's come to learn that few people watch like he watches. 

But he's watched the super casual way that Sylvain sometimes drifts around his three childhood friends like an orca ready to snap down on a shark, so bright and recklessly relaxed and a joke that most people don't look deeper. He's seen how Ingrid keeps careful watch on the rest of the world, while Felix watches just for their group together. It's been impossible to miss how Team DAAM used to check in regularly on Dimitri's apartment, them and Claude sometimes running into each other when it was him that answered the door instead of Dimitri himself. They've since stopped, apparently relaxed in the knowledge that Dimitri has someone with him, that Dimitri is connecting with people. Claude wonders how they like Marianne. 

There's no real way to say all of this - not without sounding like a huge mega weirdo who watches people for funsies in his spare time to puzzle out the details of their lives, which Claude has to admit is valid, or to talk about that one night with Dimitri during Día de Muertos. Dimitri would probably be fine with the latter... maybe. But there are some things one doesn't tell to friends of friends of boyfriends. Some things are meant to be shared together as they are only with one another, in the comforting dim lighting of an art display, shoulders brushing against each other and softness exposed. 

So Claude doesn't say it. He just indicates, yeah, he knows, with a small nod of his head. "Yeah, he seems like a dog person sometimes," Claude says, able to imagine Dimitri running with dogs as easily as he can imagine Dimitri sinking into blankets with a cat meowing incessantly at him for attention. Cats and dogs aren't rival pets so much as they are different creatures needed for different moments in one's life. 

Ingrid's subtly tense shoulders ease up a fraction, and she smiles a little more with the relief of someone who won't let something painful spill. "My family was too poor to have any pet more expensive than whatever cheap fish we could win from local festivals," she says, shaking her head and looking back to Dimitri and Marianne, with the bonus afterthought of Loog. They're in the process of carefully following him up the stairs, the cat completely without fear while Dimitri and Marianne apparently have a lot of fear about stomping too loudly on the stairs and bothering their neighbors. "They hardly ever lasted long, but I guess it was the thought that counted... So, a lot of the time, I practically shared pets with the others." 

Covering his laugh so that it doesn't disrupt the exploration happening with Loog, although now all relevant parties are upstairs in Marianne's part of the apartment, Claude glances back at Ingrid. "So, what, you had a timeshare on Dimitri's dogs?" 

Ingrid goes a very faint pink, which stands out a lot on her skin just like it does Dimitri's, and Claude is in the middle of thinking that they really do have to be clones or cousins or something when she lightly shoves him. Well. 'Lightly'. He almost falls right over, scrambling to grab onto the couch so the fall doesn't reach it's end, and Ingrid jolts. Frantically, she reaches down to help pull him up. "Oh- oh no, I'm so sorry! I do that all the time to Sylvain and Felix, they never so much as budge, and-" 

"And I just remind you so much of Sylvain, right?" Claude says, laughing a little as he accepts the hand up. Faintly, he notes that she didn't mention Dimitri in that short list of names including people she feels comfortable shoving. Well. It is Dimitri, in every way that can mean. "It's fine." 

Pressing her hand to her face, Ingrid sighs. "Yes, I... apologize." Claude is just about to tell her that it's fine, she's had to just confront all of this starting today, and he has either very high patience or very low standards, when Ingrid keeps going. "And it's because... I had a timeshare on Felix's cat, as well, and Sylvain's horses." 

Claude wheezes in a breath so quickly that he feels as though he's going to knock himself backwards. There's a lot to talk about here. Where does he even start? Ingrid sharing partial ownership to numerous animals scattered throughout her friends when they were all only kids? Felix's eternal connection to cats? In short order, Claude decides on the one that most shocks him. "Sylvain has horses?" 

"He used to." Ingrid pauses, watching as Marianne gently nudges Loog away from the edge of the landing for the higher section of the apartment. "They were technically his parents. They're lawyers," she explains to him. "I think it's a family tradition. Every single relative he knows of is a lawyer. So, well, they've ended up decently wealthy..." 

"And wealthy people have a thing for horses, right," he says, holding back any other descriptor he could use there. Plenty of other people like horses; he loves horses thanks to his dad's side of the family, where he thinks it's almost more genetic than his dark hair. Besides, he's less surprised than he thought he was, once he gets over the initial shock. It's not a surprise that Dimitri and his friends all come from fairly wealthy families. Dimitri owns a nice and really huge apartment in the city that he's managed to take care of himself for the most part, drama with his sister notwithstanding. That'd kind of been a dead giveaway at the very start of their relationship. 

So if Dimitri is from a well off family, it had kind of been a given that his childhood friends had been from similar, as well, although now he's wondering a little bit about that with Ingrid's admission about her own family's financial stability. There's a story here, and he has to firmly remind himself that people deserve privacy so he doesn't need to go poking his nose into things... or at least not with outright questions, not right now. 

But still. Sylvain and horses. "Even with you saying it, my mind is kind of having trouble imagining it," Claude muses aloud, watching the tops of Dimitri and Marianne's heads. He can hear faint scratching of little kitty paws in litter as both of them try not to be too obvious about being nearby and give Loog plenty of space. "He doesn't act like the kind of guy who grew up with horses as a kid, whether in a down-to-earth way or the rich snooty way." But then again, he thinks but doesn't say, he supposes that's the point with Sylvain. So many things like that are the point with Sylvain. 

Still oblivious to Sylvain's stubbornly hidden good sides, Ingrid chuckles a little bit. "He doesn't, does he?" she says. "But he really likes them - or he did when he was kids, at any rate." She leans against the couch some more, tilting her head back to look towards the ceiling. There's no need to watch Dimitri and Marianne for right now; the tipping of little paws has lead them out of sight. "Maybe he's changed. I mean, we were all just kids. It was a long time ago." 

Maybe he never really liked them for himself, but because it was something Ingrid liked. Claude suspects Sylvain does that a lot with the people he likes. Dimitri has days with him at the gym. Felix talks swords with the kind of deep love and passion that would bewilder other people, but Sylvain just asks all the right questions. It's hard to say how he is with any individual member of Team DAAM, because Claude doesn't see how he interacts with them one on one; maybe this is something he reserves for his friends. 

All Claude says is, "Well, that happens." Turning the subject around slightly, he grins wide. "So, what, were you the stereotypical horse girl then? I've listened in on the kind of talks you have with Marianne, although now everything is a lot clearer knowing you had timeshare pets with all your friends." 

It really is too easy to fluster Ingrid, just like it's too easy to fluster Dimitri. She crosses her arms, trying to still seem mature and unaffected. It's not working as well as Claude suspects she'd want it to. "There's nothing strange about liking horses," she insists. "Most people would just call that normal." 

"I never said it was anything but," Claude chuckles, and looks up when he hears the pattering of little paw beans on hard wood. Loog seems satisfied with how things are going, and is now looping around for a return trip. Their feline friend glances over him and Ingrid curiously, taking a moment to sniff at their legs delicately. Dimitri and Marianne aren't far back now, although they seem a little more relaxed as they trail behind him on the stairs. "So, it looks like things are going well so far." 

Marianne is smiling some more, looking bright, radiant. It suits her. "He's not stressed at all," she says, voice just a tad lighter in her excitement. "He hasn't gone to hide anywhere, and he's yet to mark anything... although it's still too soon to say on the latter part." 

Tucking some of her hair behind her ear, Ingrid waits for Loog to stop investigating her boots so that she can step forward. "That's great to hear," she says sincerely, smiling at Marianne. "That means the two of you made a really good choice in what cat to adopt." 

"From what I saw, it seems more like the cat chose you," Claude says slyly, and is rewarded by Dimitri's soft chuckle. 

"Maybe so," he agrees, that one beautiful blue eye watching as Loog decides he's investigated the humans enough. The cat begins to wander elsewhere, or, to be more exact, the small hallway leading to Dimitri's little office area and his bedroom. "He's very confident and easy going. The employee at the center said that he was picked up off the streets as a stray, but he seems almost too friendly to be one... at least I always thought a stray would be more wary." 

Apparently, both new cat parents are content to let Loog have his own time, now, because neither of them follow after the cat. While waiting to see how that plays out for them, Claude turns his attention fully to both of them. "Well, it probably depends. 'Stray' can mean all sorts of things. Some cats are born strays, forced to watch after themselves and unable to tell when a human might give them a pet, some food, or throw something at them. Others used to be with a person, but due to mishandling or misfortune, they find themselves all alone on the streets. Depending on their personality, they might be more relaxed when it comes to a home. It just depends on the cat." 

To the side, Marianne nods, a smile still on her lips but a sadness in her eyes as she thinks about it. Claude can recall, seeing that expression, the many times that she's called him, or Lorenz, or Hilda out onto the streets to help her gently corral a stray dog or cat. One time it was even a ferret, which was a fascinating experience. Animals usually come to Marianne as if hearing the siren call of a Disney Princess, but she's not always prepared with a car or carrier for any of them. That's mostly what the rest of them get called in for. 

Hm. That reminds him that he's not sure where Marianne put all of her usual animal herding equipment, both when she first moved in, and now that she's gotten a new cat. He'll have to ask her, or nose around a little. After all, it's only a matter of time until the next phone call in the middle of the night. 

Off in the depths of the apartment, there's the sound of a light crash and scattering, and both Dimitri and Marianne jerk up, with Dimitri's gaze flashing to Marianne first before they both hurry off. Ingrid wavers, leaning after Marianne and Dimitri with one foot already stepping forward, but Claude doesn't so much as budge. All he does is look amused. "Ah, their child is causing trouble already," he muses aloud, watching them disappear around a corner. 

Both the lack of shattering or cracking along with Claude's own calmness seems to decide Ingrid's actions for herself, and she steps back again, although her gaze is still towards the little hallway leading to Dimitri's spaces. "I don't believe a cat is exactly the same thing as a child," she says with some faint amusement underlining her attempt at being serious.

"Nothing is ever exactly the same as anything else," Claude says, just to be cheeky. "Although why not? Sure, a kid grows up, and changes with that growing up... Being a genuine parent is constantly adjusting to an ever changing person that might come with some little details you didn't think you were signing up for. But, while not exactly the same-" He quirks his eyebrows up, grinning a little. "-cats are still living creatures, right? They still need and want you to constantly look after them. They still give you affection. They still grow from kittens into cats, their demeanor and so much dependent on how you raised them even if they have their own personalities. And then they grow old, and they need you even more. It's a labor of love, from start to finish."

By the end, Ingrid is just watching him - no, staring at him, eyebrows raised up. "You know, you said that you've never had any cats... but that was pretty well thought out."

Claude laughs at that. "Oh, I just think a lot about things," he says with a wink. "Thinking and reading, two of my favorite past times. People get really passionate about things, and I find it pretty fun to take it all in. There's nothing quite like it in the world." That's probably one of the reasons why people tend to like him so much, Claude supposes. Everyone wants someone they can talk to about the things they love. Usually, they just don't know if it's allowed, or if someone will find them strange.

Dimitri was one of them, sort of, in Claude's view. The mental illness sort of trips things up now and then, honestly, so his boyfriend used to be either reserved in order to make a good impression, or he's rambled just a little bit. Claude likes both times, and he especially likes it now, as the two of them date and Dimitri knows that he doesn't have to hide, or hold back. He can just... be himself.

That's a worry Claude knows all to well, and why he cherishes this time with Dimitri just as much as Dimitri does the same.

Ingrid's voice snaps it out of him - right, they're in the middle of a conversation. "I guess I can somewhat see your point when you think of it from that perspective. Still, it seems just a little bit strange to actually put that idea into practice in one's own head..."

"Trust me, if you're having trouble, then you can imagine the kind of argument that erupt online." Claude laughs some more, just thinking about some of them. He's glad to say that this is one of the few things he has in life that he can be slightly removed from, so it doesn't hit so personally. Honestly, that's another benefit to browsing online arguments and the like. There's something just so refreshing about not caring about an argument and just enjoying the passion or the technique. "Well, regardless... They get to both now care for a whole other living being."

"Maybe it will be good for them," Ingrid murmurs, as the two of them listen to the distant sounds of feet shuffling and slightly more organized clattering. "Animals can help people with depression, sometimes. At least, that's what I've read. Dimitri's been on an upswing lately, too, so he should do just fine caring for it. He did well with Vriskers."

Ah, yes, Vriskers the rat. Claude is about to ask more about the little scamp when Marianne and Dimitri return from the other rooms. In Dimitri's arms, Loog has been firmly cuddled up to his chest. This is, apparently, something Loog isn't happy about as he tries to wiggle and squirm, or at least get into a position that isn't on his back. Unfortunately for Loog, he's in the grip of one Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, who has gone up against much larger cats than a little domesticated feline with little trouble. Granted, the lions were on the other side of some glass, and they were "battling" via a rope for tug-of-war, but...

"Loog somehow managed to open one of Dimitri's drawers in his office," Marianne says contritely, already turning to go up onto her part of the apartment. No doubt that the doors into the Dimitri rooms have been closed, so now it's just making sure hers are as well.

While Claude sucks in a laugh, Dimitri gently lets Loog scramble off of him and onto the cat tree. Loog wastes no time in making himself comfortable, blinking languidly at Dimitri as if not understanding just what the big deal has been. "So what happened?" Ingrid asks, amused despite her best intentions at the way Dimitri's expression shifts into that trademark absentminded glower.

"I'm not entirely sure," Dimitri says, glaring still at the cat who is now hopping down back to the floor. Exploration, it seems, is not entirely done with yet. Claude has never had his heart stolen so neatly by another animal, honestly, because that's a whole mood. "He may have caught it with one of his paws and realized it could slide open... Alternatively, it may have been jostled when he leapt up onto the desk." He lets out a sigh that goes right through the whole of him, shoulders rolling with the breath. "I'm going to have to cat-proof my office a little more..."

Pushing himself away from the couch, Claude walks over to him to pat his shoulder. "Sometimes cats just have to get their nosiness out of the way, and then they won't care," he says cheerfully. "Maybe now that Loog here knows there's only pens in your drawer, he won't go in there anymore since it's just boring ol' pens." He pauses, taking in the thoughtful glare Dimitri is sending down at him. Reaching up, he lightly taps Dimitri's cheek as a gentle reminder. "Something on your mind?"

Blinking, Dimitri rubs at his face, and takes a moment to try and gain control over his face. As far as Claude understands, it's not exactly a symptom of his issues, but just a bad habit. They think. Once Dimitri is a little bit more relaxed, he just huffs out a soft sort of laugh. "I was thinking that if a cat's curiosity is anything like your own, then honestly even simple pens might be enough for Loog to go digging through my things again."

"Wow!" Behind Claude, over the sound of his exclamation, Ingrid lets out a surprised laugh she can't quite hold back. "Rude!"

"Is he wrong?" Marianne asks from the landing, giggling at Claude's dramatic gasp and the way he holds his hand so daintily to his chest - a perfect mimic of Lorenz, he likes to think. "But everything is all locked up now... So we should be fine if he gets curious now. You two are staying for dinner, aren't you...?"

As a matter of fact, they are. In Claude's apartment, cooking is a shared duty, passed along to each of them every other week on one day in particular as a bonding thing, or for special days in particular. They are all friends, after all. Even Lorenz, once he's gotten a good few years to get over himself. Otherwise, well, otherwise they find for themselves, making their own food and cleaning up the resulting dishes.

Marianne can cook herself, of course. That's one of the things that just ends up being a necessity when you live on your own. It's just been a skill that has required not only time demanded of her when she has to work often to pay for her apartment, but also a lot of time practicing that has ended in minor injuries or ruined food. Mostly, like so many people in her situation, she's ended up falling back on the benefits of microwaveable or oven-loved food. Things she can put into some sort of box and trust it will come out fine, so long as she keeps an eye on the time. That helped when she was having more depressive or anxious episodes, too, although those, Claude is glad to say, have become far less with the passing of time.

Depression is also the reason why Dimitri also has a variety of things in his kitchen that require the bare minimum of actual cooking effort. And honestly, it really is an impressive variety, considering how strictly Dimitri tries to manage his diet. No cheap corndogs in his freezer. None of those little burger sliders that take only a minute to heat up in the microwave. Against all odds, from no doubt heavy trawling through the internet, Dimitri has mostly healthy quick bites... which often reveal themselves in the form of rice, or fruits, or vegetables... There's a lot of vegan things as well, which Claude is rather intrigued by, but supposes makes sense.

Yet when depression doesn't have a hold of him, Dimitri prefers to cook for his diet, and Claude has had some of his food. It's honestly not that bad. Some of it is a bit unimaginative at times, but he knows that's less a judgment call on Dimitri and more that his boyfriend just carefully does his best to follow recipes he finds in books or online. A lot of people are like that; they weren't raised by a father whose answer to "how much of that spice should we put into that" was with a shrug and a handful.

Dimitri has a leg up in the cooking arena, however, because of his own job. Marianne has to commute to get to the bookstore, whereupon she works no small amount of hours while on her feet, or lifting heavy boxes full of books, or organizing things so that it's all in a presentable state. That's not counting the true woes of her job, which is dealing with customers. Sometimes it's not that bad. The most common occupant of a bookstore would be the nerds. Yet there can be pricks even in that group, and then you have all sorts of other people like angry parents who don't realize they wandered into a used bookstore that might not have that latest YA novel for their kid, or people who turn their noses up at the manga section... And then she has to commute back, with all the potential shitshows that can bring...

What Claude is saying is that customer service and public transportation are often their own very special and terrible sorts of hells, and some people have to deal with both of them.

In contrast, Dimitri has the benefit of mostly working from home as he communicates to his coworkers or subordinates via his phone, or the internet, and can accomplish most of his work via the same. It's an accommodation unique to him for numerous reasons, from his background to his mental state, but hey - it doesn't make sense to not take what you're lucky enough to get, right? So Dimitri works from home, filling out goals Claude suspects he made for himself more than other people are demanding of him, and he has the ability to work through his issues while also working out, or take breaks to make himself food from his kitchen instead of bullshitting in an office break room.

So, while Marianne is often still utterly exhausted from her job and the resulting commute, Dimitri is in contrast usually in the right headspace to cook. Claude has spoken to him multiple times about the arrangement and, well, he's been dating him for even longer than that. Dimitri often makes a little extra for himself when he cooks, just so that he has leftovers available to him for the next day. The kind of thing that makes sense for a guy who isn't sure if he'll be up to cooking tomorrow. So, with that in mind, well, Dimitri thought it was just completely logical to offer some dinner to Marianne if she came home looking particularly ragged and not inclined to make food...

This is the kind of future Claude knows he has to look forward to, if he and Dimitri continue down the road they're going. He's partially charmed by it, and often amused.

Tonight, both because Dimitri seems to just be Like That and to celebrate Loog's homecoming, he's definitely done his best in preparing something a little bit ahead of time. It's some baked chicken thighs, drowning in a kind of honey garlic sauce that sets Claude's stomach rumbling even before they get to have it on plates. Then again, he hasn't eaten since lunch, and that always makes everything smell so good as to tempt his stomach... So it doesn't help that Dimitri takes such careful care in preparing the sauce, hunched over with his eyes squinting at his laptop, and the end result is almost guaranteed to be delicious.

There are hardly any better nights than this, honestly: the four of them crowded into the tiny little table that Dimitri and Marianne got when she moved in, the smell of warm food surrounding them like a blanket, elbows bumping and conversations overlapping while they carefully encourage Loog not to jump onto the table. There are similar reasons why he loves eating food with Lorenz and Hilda at their apartment. It's a comfort, a connection, one of the things he actually remembers liking from his memories of family reunions.

Being here in Dimitri's apartment with their friends is even better than his memories, however. There's a peak to it during the annual winter parties that have started to take place here, before Claude started dating him and that have continued after, but smaller moments like this? When it's just the two of them, and a couple of their friends? That's even better than his memories, even with the little bit of underlying awkwardness that still lays between him and Ingrid. But even that is getting better even as they sit with each other, eating good food and laughing at a nosy cat.

The culmination of this change, this 'always getting better', comes when Dimitri and Marianne shoo them away from the kitchen so that they can clean up, and Ingrid says, "I really am sorry, you know."

Claude smiles down to Loog, currently walking back and forth all over his lap in demand of pets. He's more than happy to indulge the feline with them. "I know," he says simply.

"Still, I feel the need to make sure it's said properly." Ingrid shakes her head. "You see, I was trying to be - well, I promised Dimitri that I would be polite and friendly to you in order to combat another... preconception we were worried I'd have to you." She doesn't give any detail, but Claude suspects he knows what the issue might have been. He doesn't call her out on it, and Ingrid doesn't explain. All she does is shake her head. "But while I maybe succeeded in that, all I ended up doing was gaining a different preconception of you, because I was comparing you to someone else. I feel terrible about it... especially because, now, I want to thank you."

Huh. Claude blinks, and Loog steps up with his paws against his chest in order to give him a simple reminder nip. That's not what he was expecting. Well, Loog being a bitey little bastard, he expected that, but the thanks is the surprise. Once he takes that second to briefly recover, Claude chuckles. "Wow, and here I wasn't even aiming to do anyone a favor."

Ingrid rolls her eyes, but she doesn't tell him off or anything. "Ha ha," she deadpans instead. "But I mean it. You are a different person... And, once I started thinking about the ways you're different from Sylvain instead of like him, and how that related to the ways you two are similar... I realized something. I realized how much I enjoy talking with him, and how funny he can be when he's not purposefully trying to get on my nerves. I realized it over dinner, after we've, well..."

"Actually talked to each other one on one instead of hiding behind our other friends?" Claude suggests, although not unkindly.

A breath sputters out between her teeth, but Ingrid at least has enough relaxation in her to smile as well. "Right. So... I thought it was something you deserved to be thanked for."

He laughs, and tells her it's fine, before Dimitri and Marianne join them once again. Even as they all talk, and prepare to leave for the night, the conversation lingers in the back of Claude's head but... pleasantly. He can see why Hilda likes Ingrid now, and why Marianne wants to be with her. It's for similar reasons that he likes Dimitri, although not exactly the same. There's that inherent.... goodness, a desire to get better.

Maybe his standards are just that low, but he can't help but feel good as he heads out of Dimitri's apartment building and back to his own home.





↣ knock knock

↬ lol who's there

↣ an incredibly handsome man who just got to see a very cute but very pain in the ass cat

↬ an incredibly handsome man who just got to see a very cute but very pain in the ass cat who

↣ (*≧▽≦)ﾉｼ))

↣ but no really

↣ you will be glad to know that the cat acquisition went great so look forward to that when you next stop by

↬ cool

↬ chat chat talk all u want 2 talk about?

↣ ✩⚫꒳⚫✩

↣ how attached do you feel about your hair





It's Annette who opens the door when Sylvain knocks, and Claude gets the absolute pleasure of seeing her normally cheery and bubbly expression warp into one of complete gobsmacked shock as she lays eyes upon them. A sharp inhale is sucked through her throat, giving potential fuel to a yell or exclamation, but Sylvain quickly raises a finger to his lips. "Ssshh," he stage whispers, winking at her.

Immediately, Annette partially steps out and closes the door slightly behind her so that the sight of them isn't immediately visible from within Dimitri's apartment. Her hands start to flap in front of her, and it takes her a second to get her voice back. "You two!" she whispers, a lot more seriously than Sylvain's own attempt. "Oh my gosh!" Her hands flap some more, uncontrollable. "I can't believe you two! Really? How long will it last? Did you tell anyone?" 

Sylvain waits for her to calm down, or at least be sure that she's not going to keep going, before he grins. "You're the first to know," he tells Annette.

Claude winks. "We thought it would be a fun surprise for everyone," he confirms. "Want to see their reactions with us?"

Her grin is all the answer they need, and Annette turns back to the door so that she can push it wiiiiiide open. "You guys! Look what Sylvain and Claude did!"

Most everyone who has come over for fighting game night is gathered in the living space, just like the two of them knew they would be. So it's almost synched up, how everyone glances over. Some of their friends do a double take. Others just stare. Leonie starts to laugh. Well, it's a completely understandable reaction to the fact that Claude's hair is a brilliant warm red, and Sylvain is now a rather sporting brunet.

There is a beat of silence before the reactions start rolling through, Lorenz yelling at them on what they did while Hilda excitedly claps her hands. In a manner Claude is pretty sure is none too subtle, he glances over to where Dimitri and Felix are. Both of them are staring, wide eyed and with a confused pink spread along their cheeks. And then there's Raphael, giving a booming laugh and a thumbs up over at Sylvain. "Wow, you look handsome again!"

It's not exactly a rare occasion, when Claude has gone out with Sylvain to wherever, for him to get pretty words and pointed compliments from various people - often girls. Every time, the (now former) redhead has always just rolled with them or occasionally even acted a little bit cocky. It depends on if he thinks he can get something for free, or if it's just some rando that he doesn't want to spend too much time with.

In direct contrast to that, his reaction to Raphael's compliments every time is an awkward but pleased little grin on his lips and one of Sylvain's brighter laughs. "You say that about me every time!"

"I figure it's true every time!"

Sylvain laughs again, and Claude delightedly notes that Felix's face is only getting all the more red despite his very valiant efforts to glare at Sylvain as if he's the one responsible for the horrific levels of attraction Felix is very obviously feeling. Well, that's not entirely unfair... But it's not for Felix's red face or Dimitri's lovestruck expression that they're doing this for. "C'mon, what do you all think?" Claude asks, winking and doing his best to mimic Sylvain's utterly relaxed and signature pose with his hands behind his head. "Mitya? Felix?" His grin widens. "Ingrid? We haven't heard anything from you!"

They've absolutely not heard anything from Ingrid. That's probably because Ingrid has her palms pressed tightly together, fingertips at her lips, dead eyeing both of them like they're the cause for all the sin in the world. That is, quite honestly, pretty fair. Also fair is the way she turns on her heel away from them, disappearing into Dimitri's hallway to no doubt take a reprieve in the bathroom so she can have her face in her hands and question some of her friendship choices.

Oh well. Laughing along with Sylvain, they all finally go into the apartment properly while Annette closes the door behind them. That's enough to finally snap Felix out of it, scoffing as he gets up to his feet. "What, did you get sick of standing out?" Felix asks as Sylvain wanders over to him, as reliable as the tide follows the moon. "Just because you have brown hair doesn't mean that people aren't still going to think you're stupidly handsome and swoon after you."

Chuckling, Sylvain sweeps his hand through his now pleasantly dark brown hair. Somehow the shade brings out the warmer brown of his eyes. No wonder Felix got red; Claude has come to terms with how handsome Sylvain is like this hours ago. "Does that mean you think I'm handsome?" he teases playfully.

Felix snorts and crosses his arms. "Just get a seat," he says, very much not answering the question on Sylvain's handsomeness or not. "We managed to get The Outfoxies, so that's the game we're going to be playing tonight. Get ready to get beat up in this one."

Claude perks up. "Oh, Lysithea, you mentioned that once, right?" he asks her, looking over his shoulder to where she's hanging out in the kitchen. "It's like Smash's grampa-" Movement from the corner of his eye, coming from the rest of Dimitri's apartment, snags Claude's attention, and his eyes widen. Immediately, he darts off towards Dimitri.... just in time to avoid the smack of a broom, one that goes right towards Sylvain's shoulder instead of Claude's head.

Even though it can't possibly hurt, Sylvain still yelps and jolts, but that's not far enough to escape Ingrid's wrath. Helplessly laughing, he raises his arms up defensively to protect his moneymaking face. "Hey!"

For some mysterious reason, this doesn't make Ingrid inclined to stop. All she does is rear her broom weaponry back, plenty of time for Felix to dodge out of the way so that Sylvain can suffer his punishment. You know, like a good childhood friend. "Don't you hey me!" she accuses, broom smacking Sylvain out of the living space and into the much more open dining area. Although, well, with the addition of the cat tree, and said cat lounging on top of the tree, it's now more of a cat space. "I can't believe you!" As she smacks at him, Lorenz very politely steps out of the way so that there's nothing to stop Ingrid's path and also nothing for Sylvain to hide behind.

From the top of the cat tree, Loog watches all of this in faintly curious apathy with twitching ears and his gaze notably following Sylvain as the poor man tries to dodge Ingrid's broom. With the constant barrage of bristles, the sucker can't even begin to offer a reply or defense of himself to Ingrid.

Claude, thanks to his quick feet and maybe a dash of luck, is fortunately under no such stress, and he grins at Dimitri when his boyfriend finally stands up to watch this chaos. "So what do you think?" he purrs up at Dimitri, more of a cat than lazy Loog currently is. "Do I look handsome enough in red hair for you to protect me from Ingrid's broom wrath?"

Snapping out of it, Dimitri grins down at him. "Red certainly brings out your eyes," he murmurs softly, reaching up to brush Claude's hair from his face... although he's pretty sure that's just an excuse for Dimitri to gently touch his face at all. "Although I hope you aren't planning on doing anything else that will annoy Ingrid."

Proving his boyfriend's concerns right forever and always, Claude grins and looks over to where the blond in question is still smacking Sylvain around. "Hey Ingrid, you never answered the question! How do we look, huh? I think Sylvain makes a pretty good me, although I'll admit not nearly as handsome! But I appreciate being tall, I gotta say."

Ingrid comes to a dead stop, finally allowing Sylvain to scurry off to hide behind the cat tree. Apparently, having a cat lightly smack at his head is a lot more manageable than Ingrid's skill with a broom. That same Ingrid who spins it sharply in place where it lays in her palms, even as she snaps her head to narrow her eyes in Claude's direction. "You," she says, a warning in a single syllable.

Leonie laughs again, this time for an entirely different reason than before. "Are you just a glutton for punishment?" she asks, eyes glittering.

Over in the kitchen, Lysithea presses her fingers into her mouth for a sharp whistle. "Get him, Ingrid!"

"I think Leonie might be onto something, love," Dimitri says, using a nickname that makes Claude's heart flutter even as he - sadist of sadists - steps away.

Turning to friends and boyfriend alike, Claude spreads his arms out with a chuckle. "What! It's a genuine question-"

Ingrid smacks him in the head with the broom.