"Her clanmate. Her elder. Her Primogen. Her Prince for a brief moment before her Final Death," neither friend nor lover nor sire included anywhere in his answer. But when Rasmussen gives the title of his station and the subsequent end Claudia met with under the first minutes of his praxis, posed in the context of his own question returned, it rouses a more plainly worn anger in him.
The simmering kind. The kind that is always present like the building pressure below a volcano's hardened surface. Not trembling. Earth-moving and silent before the rain of death. A kind of vengeance. Maybe...
A thirst for it borne out of his own shortcomings in living up to that position.
Or at the loss of a clanmate.
Or at the Sabbat who took her and others.
Or at the same, but for burning Richthofen above.
Helmer has anger in spades and in this moment offers it freely before reigning himself in behind the cage of a smile that is really a snarl before it finds some semblance of real mirth. As proof of what presents itself again becomes his focus.
"She asked, he consented, and she never made any presentation after the fact. How old school of her, keeping you to herself until you were ready to meet the court, or at least I'm sure that would have been her play if Isaac had ever found you, and once he was gone..."
To say he would be amused takes all the nuance out of the emotion he shows. It is like he is trying to find what Claudia saw in this one before deigning to Embrace him. At the same time reveling in the craftiness she had executed in the play of his creation. At the same time finds his own particulars, his own characteristics in Gray that are to his liking, before straightening.
"They came looking to upset her corner," less emphasis on the locale and more on the her it belonged to.
"Did you look after it for her?" His eyebrows rising instead of narrowing those blue pools at the question. Expectant.
The simmering kind. The kind that is always present like the building pressure below a volcano's hardened surface. Not trembling. Earth-moving and silent before the rain of death. A kind of vengeance. Maybe...
A thirst for it borne out of his own shortcomings in living up to that position.
Or at the loss of a clanmate.
Or at the Sabbat who took her and others.
Or at the same, but for burning Richthofen above.
Helmer has anger in spades and in this moment offers it freely before reigning himself in behind the cage of a smile that is really a snarl before it finds some semblance of real mirth. As proof of what presents itself again becomes his focus.
"She asked, he consented, and she never made any presentation after the fact. How old school of her, keeping you to herself until you were ready to meet the court, or at least I'm sure that would have been her play if Isaac had ever found you, and once he was gone..."
To say he would be amused takes all the nuance out of the emotion he shows. It is like he is trying to find what Claudia saw in this one before deigning to Embrace him. At the same time reveling in the craftiness she had executed in the play of his creation. At the same time finds his own particulars, his own characteristics in Gray that are to his liking, before straightening.
"They came looking to upset her corner," less emphasis on the locale and more on the her it belonged to.
"Did you look after it for her?" His eyebrows rising instead of narrowing those blue pools at the question. Expectant.