[Funny-- if he were to hear details about Julius' Mother, his beginnings, there might be a shred of jealousy there, some small and grasping part of him that would wish for that same level of doting. Manipulated and fashioned into a tool of her design perhaps, but to be that admired, to have a creator - of sorts - who was proud of him...it's what Giovanni himself had always striven for. Still strives for even now, for all that Professor Einsturzen barely registers his existence.
He never has been her favourite. Quite the opposite, really.
But those parts of themselves remain unspoken and unknown, and Giovanni watches with mild detachment as his 'comrade' pours water into the waiting pot, watches the steam slowly rise.
His smile remains small and fixed as the other man talks, barely a smile at all but more something he does with his face, an attempt at human expression. That is, until Julius mentions the mission. Something quickens in him then, sparking and hot between his ribs and this time when his smile spreads wider, there's something more genuine in it.]
Oh, good. Inactivity is such a bore, don't you think? I'd much rather stretch my legs. Have a little fun.
[And his eyes go to the other man now, watching carefully for signs of admonishment or encouragement or something else entirely. Some sign that he'd really meant it when he he'd said there was no need to be so formal.]
no subject
He never has been her favourite. Quite the opposite, really.
But those parts of themselves remain unspoken and unknown, and Giovanni watches with mild detachment as his 'comrade' pours water into the waiting pot, watches the steam slowly rise.
His smile remains small and fixed as the other man talks, barely a smile at all but more something he does with his face, an attempt at human expression. That is, until Julius mentions the mission. Something quickens in him then, sparking and hot between his ribs and this time when his smile spreads wider, there's something more genuine in it.]
Oh, good. Inactivity is such a bore, don't you think? I'd much rather stretch my legs. Have a little fun.
[And his eyes go to the other man now, watching carefully for signs of admonishment or encouragement or something else entirely. Some sign that he'd really meant it when he he'd said there was no need to be so formal.]