It was futile. She’d never answer back by now.

But he called her name out anyway.


[Open Post]


^It is, of course, none other than he.  …Well, maybe his arrival wasn’t such an absolute certainty to the professor, all things considered. 

Still, here he was, ready to great the familiar man with a smirking grin and a tip of the cap.^

Good day, Professor.

I hope it’s all right that I’ve stopped by?

Well, this was quite unexpected. He unconsciously clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at Clive, wondering how the young man seemed to appear just when Hershel was most ill-prepared for guests.

Nevertheless the older man obliged, relaxing his previous scowl and leer into an expression befitting the gentleman. Hershel wasn’t exactly smiling, now, but he certainly wasn’t scowling at the former criminal.

Former may be overestimating it, Hershel silently noted, giving a quick look over the other man’s person. He hasn’t changed in the slightest.

"Of course,” he swiftly replied, tipping his own hat in response to the other’s gesture. The professor opened the door wider and faced Clive sideways, giving a sweep of his hand to silently tell him to take a seat.

"You’re always welcome to visit, Clive," he added, though the phrase’s subtle undertone implied that he was anything but.

The living room itself fit the taste of a man like Hershel; elegant and classic.

The top of the coffee table surrounded by the seats was covered by a beige tablecloth. On the top of the table cloth were two sugar dishes on either end, small tongs to assist in the case that tea would be served. Also on either end of the coffee table were two chairs. A couch filled the gap along the side of the table, facing the front of the house and towards the entrance.

However, the furniture wasn’t suited for comfort. His chairs and couch, though upholstered with an inviting taste, eventually prove to be incommodious if used for a long period of time.

However, the professor supposed Clive would not stick around for that long. Frankly, Hershel would rather attend to more interesting activities than have a small chat with Clive, like watching paint dry or grass grow.

But he quietly bit his tongue, reassuring himself that he was a gentleman enough to go through at least a few exchange of friendly words with Mr. Dove.

(Source: ruinedpuzzles)

[Open Post]

Zootomy wasn’t one of Hershel’s strong suits, though admittedly he’d taken a liking to it. Perhaps it was just the feel of dissection that enthralled him, that held his interest in a great vice.

But it was most likely the fact that it made a great distraction for him. Making carefully measured incisions here and there, sorting out—

The doorbell rang, causing him to feel a tinge of annoyance. Wincing slightly as if it had harmed him physically, the professor took a deep sigh to calm himself. The doorbell rang another time, insistent with becoming his main priority.

Stripping off dirtied gloves and hanging them next to the dissection table, Hershel attended to answering the door. With bare hands now, he pulled on the handle and opened the door wide enough to reveal who his guest was.

((Blog mod here!

Just about to get this rp account up and running. Apologies for the inactivity.))