they argued my right to ascension

A pet?

For a moment the man allows his gaze to shift to the eyes of the woman's own- perhaps in search of some hint of seriousness upon her features at this seemingly absurd gesture. That she hardly appeared to be acting facetious saw so small amount of surprise linger upon his youthful features before they shifted into something of a small frown of contemplation.

"Of all the things you might have requested of me, Sera- you ask for a pet?"

There is something almost akin to humour existing within the lyrics of his voice, that ever-smooth, deep baritone ringing within the confines of the ship as he further considers this request. A pet was...messy, loud, problematic and surely a waste of time let alone required feeding and attention like a small child, his thoughts on the matter already upon his lips before whatever expression lingered upon her features seemed to see him think better of voicing his opinion. The man merely offering a nod of sorts though, though his disdain for the idea is sure to present itself later. If the raven-haired witch should ever choose to holiday he is assured she will seek out someone to care for this pet in her absence and he holds little desire to perform such a service. Perhaps he might satisfy her with a fish, else some other novelty animal that required little true attention. Then again, the woman did not particularly seem the type to engage her affections upon a creature so simple-minded as a goldfish that did little save for circle itself about a bowl for several weeks until it inevitably died. He would, he has decided, have to make more effort in this regard then he had earlier anticipated. Women, he thinks, are a truly curious species and for all the years he might be given to live he is assured he may very well never truly understand them. Why she would want something so ridiculous, let alone as to request he, of all beings, purchase it for her he hardly knows. His mood however, is substantial enough today it would seem- to satisfy such a request without vocalising the complaints that dance upon the tip of his tongue.

He must truly be feeling generous today. Her promise to keep her magic from him while he works is sufficient enough to see him turn his back upon her with some measure of confidence, leaning away from the wolf only when he finds himself satisfied with his work. The golden amber of his gaze returns moments later to the woman he had professed some amount of affection for, no part of himself given to regret such a thing all the same, his words having held every modicum of truth he had spoken them with. Serafina reminding him often, with even the smallest of actions that despite her look- she was not nearly the same being Evelyn had been. His gaze narrows slightly at the manner in which the woman proceeds to pluck a few hairs from the sleeping Were, the man already suspecting what such a thing might be for- unsettling as it was.

"I don't see that."

Even despite his...affections for the young witch he has little desire to involve himself in her...magic, that part of her still one he struggles to perceive. Perhaps it is simply so many years of being taught and told to loath such a thing else perhaps his own personal constraints- either way he simply chooses to look elsewhere as she conceals the stolen hair before declaring herself prepared to go. The offer upon his lips however seems to see her pause- the man unwilling to admit that some part of him was assured she would refuse, as rightly she should, yet some feeling of...pleasure existed all the same in her agreement. Even if her mention of the pizza she had stolen some months back hardly succeed in amusing him.

"I didn't make the bloody Pizza, nor did I give it to you! You took it!"

Well- he would hardly be himself if he failed to return to his usual manner of conversation, the man snorting slightly, hardly choosing to tell her that his own cooking efforts were significantly sub-par in comparison to the pizza. The woman sure to discover that for herself in an hour or so all the same before she seeks to label the relationship he had seemingly suggested. Friends with Benefits. It was, to an extent, a relatively modern phrase- though one the man had not failed to learn in his time, the hunter seeming to consider it for several more moments still.

"Perhaps, yes."

He murmurs at last, the barest hint of a simper tracing his features once more before he moves to stroll from the room, holding the door for the woman before leading the way from the Ark and back onto the street- it's Alpha's sure to recover in a few hours or so. It would be amusing to some extent, to see the two men attempt to discover how they had come to be unconscious together on the bathroom floor. It was a pity, truly, to miss such misadventure and yet for now his thoughts have already become inclined elsewhere- fishing the car keys from his jeans pocket before unlocking the Aston Martin, the Vanquish his preferred car of late- one hand moving to open the door for Sera before he appeared within the driver's seat barely a second later.

"We could have walked, I suppose, but I find others lack of speed...taxing and quite frankly- I'm hungry."

His own ability for speed, while convenient for himself is hardly a pleasant way to travel for others- or at least they never reported it so- the man unwilling, this time, to subject the woman to such a thing. He does however, move to silence the CD player well before it can offer any of his preferred music- Calliel continuing to tease him to this day over his preference for eighties music that had long since been surpassed. Although given what the girl listened to Azrael truly found nothing about more modern music to be an improvement on the past.

"Did you...detach yourself from the wolf?"

His knowledge of magic is a limited thing, the man oblivious as to whether a spell of some kind had truly been performed or not as he regards her, one hand resting smoothly on the steering wheel, his other arm leaning against the window in perhaps the most relaxed gesture the man had ever truly offered. It hardly takes long to reach River Dale, the golden-haired hunter pulling up easily outside his own apartment building, pausing to allow the witch to remove herself from the car before strolling easily upward and into the lobby of the tired, worn building.

"I move a lot, for work, there is little sense in buying anything more....luxuriant if I leave it a year later. The more wealthy areas also tend to attract vampires and I find them....disagreeable."

His words are chosen carefully all the same as he climbs the stairs, heading down the hall and towards his own apartment, unlocking the door to leave it open in his wake for the witch to follow behind- gesturing for her to close it behind her. There was nothing truly astounding about the apartment. It was old, small, though neat enough, the man pausing briefly to snatch a shirt from the back of the couch- tossing it haphazardly back into his own room in something of an attempt to clean up. After all, aside from Calliel he had hardly had a woman in his apartment for.....months and thus cleaning up had never truly been a priority- the man forever holding the habit of tossing his clothes across the back of the nearest available chair or couch.

"I should warn you, if I cannot make it with bread, cheese or what remains of a salad I might have I cannot make it at all, so I require your request for lunch to be...simplistic at best. Cooking is not my forte unless it involves two-minute noddles."

Men, in his day, had hardly been required to cook and as such he had never truly learned. Clara and then Evelyn after her having been responsible for such things. The man, perhaps, having not fed himself properly in thirty years as his gaze returns to the witch- determined not to allow his thoughts to dwell to much upon the fact he had willing brought a supernatural into his home....

Azrael Evero

only fools walk where angels fear to tread