Ragar could only grin at the reply, though his expression was covered by his signature mask, he was glad that his actions were not read wrong or seen as him overstepping his boundaries. He was genuine curios as to how this drink was made, it looked so easy from the way Frankenstein so confidently and elegantly moved, certain of the next steps and anything else that was needed into making such a drink.
He followed Frankenstein’s every move, up until the tea was offered to him. He was a bit surprised by the sudden act, unsure if it would be okay to just take it but he also didn’t want to refuse. For one he was curious and if he was given a taste than he would be eternally grateful, and if he refused even if it was with good intention or meaning it would be rude, so he did accept it in the end. Giving a slight bow and a quick “thank you.” as he took hold of the tea, it felt so delicate and smelled even better.
“Tell me Frankenstein, what is this scent? I must admit that I have never in my life tried tea and to see how it was made, could you perhaps show me one day? In turn I will replay you with something, perhaps you have questions that you would liked answered or would you like something else?”
To Frankenstein’s subtle entertainment, Ragar receives the hospitality well. The polymath chuckles inwardly: who indeed would have thought that he, so averse to the patronizing superiority of the Noble race in the past, would take tea with one of them, let alone have reason to cultivate tea-tending down to a fine art? Yet here he is, serving them tea out of personal choice, just as he is remains in Lukedonia of his own volition.
Leaving Ragar to take in the so-perceived novelty, Frankenstein rights another cup upon its saucer, pouring himself a cup full. With the way Ragar handles his, Frankenstein might say the man is a natural. Frankenstein smiles widely, informatively. Part of him can’t believe his ears: Ragar Kertia, requesting to be privy to something like the finer intricacies of tea?
“What you smell is something called assam, a variety of black tea that originates from India. It takes its name just from the place where the leaves are grown. Us humans quite enjoy it; it is widely consumed among our higher classes, if you can believe it.” And for Raizel’s sake, Frankenstein had taken it upon himself to obtain the second flush, the freshest harvest of leaves, too. Then:
"... I did not expect this,” he remarks ambiguously, amusement showing as he contemplates the offer. “You would offer me something in exchange for sating your curiosity over tea?” Frankenstein’s smile grows, unreadable. “Anything?”
frankenstein is a man of science. if you don’t prove you’re NOT of peacock blood, then you might as well be, we don’t discount any possibilities in science bINCH .
listen.....,,,... I came out here to have myself a grand old time
"I went into town on an errand but once done was allowed to wander around, I came across these journals and since I know you like to write a lot I thought you may like them. So I guess, a gift from me to you, I hope it is to your liking." //honorableassassin ^^//
[ Drabble for @honorableassassin ]Ragar gifts Frankenstein with something precious. Somewhere in the fray of 820 years, Frankenstein forgets its importance, and wakes up one morning to decide, long after Ragar and Razark have departed, that he should do himself a favor.
It is with utmost surprise that Frankenstein receives this gestureof the Kertia family leader’s goodwill. Here he had been, readying himself todo the undesirable of declining whathe had assumed would be an invitation from Ragar to spar, for it is rare evenfor the Noble to take that initiative out of pure respect for Frankenstein’stime - only, today Frankenstein happened to have more urgent matters at hand to address.Little did he expect that there was little more obligation to this unannouncedvisit than the acceptance of a gift.
The scientist’s gaze shifts from the look across Ragar’s features,perpetually sober, to the artifact extended towards him. Theretruly is far more to him than meets the eye, Frankenstein thinks. Before now,who would have thought that this quiet, objective Noble would go out of hisway to pay his respects through a material means, of all methods? Over time, suchsmall yet significant gestures lead Frankenstein further and further away fromthe belief that humans and Nobles can never truly be of the same mind. There is progress, however little.
Ragar rests the leather-bound journal into his waiting hand, and when he draws away, Frankenstein finds it light in weight, though no less substantial.
Without further delay, he grins, the smile of a self-satisfied man, smug not because he had earned this gift somehow, but because he had been given this chance to affirm something that hadn’t really required affirmation all along: that he had somehow earned Ragar’s liking. Because he had roused in him a heightened appreciation for all things human. Indeed, Frankenstein’s grin is a toothy one, for Ragar’s surprise put him in high spirits, moreso than the scientist is willing to let on.
His fingers graze over the fine leather binding, taking in its fine quality with his scrutinizing touch. Frankenstein turns the book over in his hand, pries the wrapped lace free, all but unclothing it to reveal the fresh parchment paper contained within. Did Ragar know Frankenstein finds journals of this type to be easily accessible? He did. Such extraordinary journals were not made for common folk, but for Frankenstein, it was more than something he could easily provide himself. In fact, Frankenstein could get ahold of anything he wanted, if he willed it.
For him, it would always be the thought that counts. The act of gift-giving is not entirely alien to Nobles, this Frankenstein knows, but they certainly do not have nearly as many occasions as do humans for such an act to be carried out. To receive a gift from a Noble, then, would mean that the gift bears great meaning, to both giver and receiver. Above all, for Frankenstein to have been in Ragar’s thoughts during his errand, when he could very easily have just minded his own… It was all unexpectedly pure of Ragar Kertia.
“Is it ‘to my liking’?” Frankenstein echoes theatrically.
“Aren’t you the sentimental one,” he remarks mischievously, and discards the entire inner thought process about being able to acquire this gift on his own - none of that is relevant, after all. “Should I be touched to receive such a thoughtful gift from you, who has already been providing me with more than I could have asked for from any Noble prior to my decision to stay in Lukedonia?” He chuckles, referring to the multitude of times Ragar had consented to fight him for Frankenstein’s own improvement. “Because I am, though I did not expect to have to express my gratitude over a personal gift. Ragar Kertia, you have surprised me.”
With one hand, he shuts the book audibly, grin never leaving his features. “Thank you.”
— — —
For the fourth time in the same night, Frankenstein can sense a curious gaze sent his way by one of his own. This time, it just so happens to be M-21 giving him that look of puzzlement, although Frankenstein can also distinguish vague intuition in it. The chairman returns him with a signature indecipherable smile.
“What’s the matter, M-21? You seem troubled.” Almost all of the Raizel Knights did. When M-21 hesitates, Frankenstein presses his point: “If you have questions regarding your objectives, just ask.”
After beating around the bush a little longer, it is revealed that M-21 is more than clear on the objectives of the Knights’ latest assignment. All he seemed to be trying to make sense of, was…
“Why that particular journal? You mentioned the Union having stolen a great deal of the research data you amassed throughout the ages, didn’t you?” M-21 asks this somewhat crudely, but crude is characteristic of the man, and not always a terrible thing. “… N-never mind. I know I shouldn’t question it since what’s inside the journal must be very important data. It’s just feels strange, since you were the one trying to extract information from the Union for me before. And then to suddenly ask for us to keep an eye out for something for you during this mission…”
“It is indeed important, though not for what’s inside.” Frankenstein finally interrupts M-21′s bumbling. M-21 stops short, clearly unsure of how to interpret his employer’s words. Frankenstein eyes him meaningfully. “I said before that I would give you the truth to such matters if you just asked, did I not? I will say it again, especially as you are now involved. As the success of this mission depends on you and the others, I will not pressure you to locate this one particular journal. To ask you to find it for me would be far too risky.
“But, it holds considerable sentimental value to me. It was a gift from an old friend. I had been thinking lately, and decided that I owe it to him to at least try to track it down.” And perhaps because Rael Kertia is not within earshot, Frankenstein sees no point in mentioning a name. Or, perhaps, he means to continue to keep this matter entirely to himself.
“Again, what’s inside matters little; I can easily replicate the research written in there. But if you come across an archive that might contain it - if you even just feel like you might be getting warm, then tell me. Once the opportunity presents itself, I can handle the rest on my own. Understood?”
“Still. Even the Lord herself visited you and Ser Raizel. A part of me is dying to know what makes this place so special to keep so many Clan Leaders there, yet I assume that this is not something you will be telling me anyway, is that correct?” Nobles always have been distant from the human world, looking down upon the mortals they considered to be inferior, like mere insects, even. Though she only knew Karias and the late Rajak Kertia, she heard that the other Clan Leaders of this generation were every inch a noble, to put it like that.
However, even if they were only in the human world for the sake of the Noblesse… what kept him from returning to Lukedonia? All misunderstandings have been settled, his once stained name washed clean once more. Yet for some reason, he did not return to Lukedonia. Why? Though Janna did not openly ask, she presumed that Frankenstein would catch on to the actual question she had in mind.
Janna only knew the Noblesse from sight, never had she approached him in person, though she knew of the intense affection ( why did she not call this unrequited mess love ?) her aunt had felt for him.. A part of her was dying to know what made him so special beyond the terrifying power to put any noble to eternal sleep.
"Oh, you know me, Frankenstein, I had a blast, as humans would say it. You, who maybe even lived for longer than I have, must know what I mean, don’t you? As it turns out, each star in the sky is its own sun and millions of years before even the nobles came into this world, massive lizards walked the Earth… “
In that moment, she seemed more of an excited girl than a scheming woman, enamored with the things humans have accomplished over the past centuries. "And the internet! Television! Marvellous. I am heartbroken for my mortal friends of the past who did not live to know the wonders of nowaday’s technology.”
At this point, Frankenstein’s affable manners seem out of keeping with the wariness in his eyes. She poses no danger, perhaps harbors no ill intention towards the Noblesse, either - who is Frankenstein to say at this point? But he knows he is less than passionate about the way she skirts around the crux of her concerns, fishing for his understanding. And understand he does.
With a sigh through his nose and a knowing smile, he crosses his arms, choosing to believe the self-constructed theory that her courtliness forbids the Noblewoman from speaking plain instead of employing reverse psychology.
Moreover, he really must bring himself to wonder whether she believes that the morsel of intrigue she is rooting around for is anything more than a simple truth. She would be disappointed to anticipate otherwise. It means the world to Frankenstein, yet is also something he can more than afford to let on, for nothing in anyone’s power can ultimately foil a will as good and worthy as that of the Noblesse.
“Yes, I also regret the tragedy of it all.” There was always something child-like, albeit strange, about the behavior of Nobles coming into contact with human civilization. In the distant past, Frankenstein had thought it little different from condescension. The times have since changed, however, so he merely regards her enthusiasm with a wry smile, thoughts instead passing over a Noble acquaintance of his who, too, would have liked to witness today’s ‘wonders’.
“Nevertheless, it seems that you are more than knowledgeable with the current state of affairs with the human world, as it shows in your passion. Speaking of, you said you wanted to know what ‘keeps’ my house guests, did you not?” He gestures simply. “Would you believe it if I said you just arrived at the answer yourself?”
A leg crosses over the other in a single beat, as the position that she deemed most comfortable to be in, before she shifts her attention to the black screen before her. She knows by now that the other’s display of politeness is by no means a degradation of her own ability to pull a chair out for herself, but because it is Frankenstein of course, in which she merely tilts her head as a silent gesture of averse gratitude. Nonetheless, hands are folded in her lap and her shoulders remain rigid, not out of discomfort or wariness, but for the regality that comes with the role she had been assigned with even before her birth.
❝ It was a game where you held a gun and eliminated all the foes before you. It seemed that one’s ranking went up the more you killed and obtained guns of higher quality. ❞ Raskreia doesn’t know, of course, why a game of violence seems to be favored among the children. The thing that matters most is that she excelled in it and, although it had been a compromising situation in which she had also bested the Noblesse, victory well-earned is well-deserved.
❝ It is by my request that you are here, Frankenstein. Do what you will. If there is more to be learned about these leisurely activities, then I will learn it all. ❞
Ah. So it really is the first-person shooter video game that his master’s young friends have been preoccupied with. Having had taken it upon himself to act as the Noblesse’s personal coach for that particular title, Frankenstein himself is no stranger to its mechanics. And seeing as the highly competitive nature of the game calls for strategic advantages such as the combined efforts of friends... It figures that Shin-woo would move to complete the ranks of their six-man team with Raizel and Raskreia.
Ha...
Seeing as the Lord’s improved comprehension of the game would not in any way undermine his master’s chances at triumphing this game as it had before, when the children had pit Lord and Noblesse against each other, Frankenstein has no reason whatsoever to conceal any tactics. Still... there truly is something bizarre about this situation.
“Then I hope my knowledge can be put to your disposal. Am I correct to assume you already have a good command over the operation of the system?” He gestures to the computer, welcoming her to approach it as she pleases.
Frankenstein was full of surprises, one thing that Ragar really liked about his friend, and although they started off as opponents he was glad to call the other an ally. Someone outside of their usual home who was able to train alongside him and to be able to shares ones knowledge and opinions on matters. Though with someone outside of Lukedonia, it always did turn into quite the conversation with the different point of view and beliefs, though perhaps that could only be himself who thought like that.
He had arrived at the Noblesse’s manor, one of his usual visits and had noticed the difference ever since day one, the manor was cleaner more decorative, it was warmer compared to before when it felt so cold. Though the biggest thing that he noticed was the scent, the smells that filled the manor were of herbs and nature, ranging from sweet to minty but all in all so refreshing and welcoming. He knew the cause of it, but he was never one to ask, not until he saw Frankenstein getting ready to prepare this ‘tea’ that Raizel enjoys so much. He has heard of it of course, but never had the Family Leader tried such a thing or even attempted to create it, there was no time with the duty he has as a Family Leader but this one time, now that he was in the presence of one who was more knowledgeable in this ‘tea’, he couldn’t help but let his curiosity get the better of him.
He wanted to know more, how it was made, what ingredients were used, not to mention he wanted to taste is as well but didn’t want to impose too much so he never asked. He didn’t really take note that he had closed the distance between the two until the other spoke, eyes widen for a second at the realization as he stepped back, a bit ashamed of intruding on Frankenstein’s personal space.
“Forgive me Frankenstein, I didn’t mean to be rude, but this is the first time I see you make this tea that sir Raizel enjoys so much. Usually the tea is already made, its refreshing and warm scent filling the manor with a ‘welcomed’ atmosphere, but now that you’re making it I was curious is all. This is a first for me, I let my curiosity get the best of my, I’m truly sorry.”
Frankenstein’s expression promptly shifts, regarding the other man’s utterly contrite reaction as if he had grown a second head. Why? For all his wisdom, the scientist could not quite piece together what would warrant an apology from Ragar. Frankenstein had not demanded one, and doubts that his ally’s ever-reserved nature would put him in Frakenstein’s debt anytime soon. His harmless jest had flown straight over Ragar’s head, and now he watches, with bubbling amusement, as the family leader’s solemn form tenses, shrinking back. Just like a cat that has been scolded away from a platter of fish.
Frankenstein has to fight back a grin at the image of resemblance.
Sheesh. He mutes a chuckle, turning his focus back to tea leaves soaking just beneath the surface of the steaming water. “What on earth are you looking so distressed for? You’re making me uneasy too, Ragar. Save your apologies for when they’re necessary.” He means it. Although Ragar’s sudden proximity had caused him to bristle out of instinct, he has grown to used to having the Noble in his company. Suffices to say, Ragar really had nothing to be sorry about.
He lifts the ornate silver strainer from the teapot, patiently allowing it to drip out at the pace of morning dew. “But I must say, I really had not expected for you to take an interest in such a thing. If so, you need only have asked. Though, I guess it really is typical of your kind to stay tight-lipped in the face of something unfamiliar. As it just so happens,” Frankenstein punctuates his words with the gentle trickle of mellow tea into a cup. Plating the porcelain teaware, he turns fully, extending it meaningfully towards Ragar.
“I had been brewing for two. If you are so curious, why not try it yourself?”
“My dear Frankenstein, I am delighted to see you are ever the gentleman who would not deny a Lady his company.” Janna walked beside him with ease, accompanying him outside. Maybe he shared her dislike for the gloomy halls of Lukedonian architecture. Personally, she’d always preferred the company of flowers under a blue sky, rather than high arches of stone looming above her head. Luckily, at least the humans abandoned such somber architecture by now.
The noble laughed politely at his witty remark. So he must have heard too, though that was surprising even to her - in the greater scheme of things, she always considered herself a plain woman for noble standards, the weak Leader of a weak Clan that stood for little, and maybe now for even less than under her aunt Edian.
“ I am afraid my return is nowhere as much of a surprise as yours.” She has been reciting poems with a charming mutant lady in California when she felt it. The soul weapon, come to knock at her doors of sheltered irresponsibility. However, Janna too knew how to keep her cards close to her heart. Their politeness did not make them friends, after all, though she dared to presume that Frankenstein probably did not even care enough to use any sign of weakness against her.
Had he been anyone else, she might have taken him by the arm, a friendly gesture that would certainly go beyond appropriateness, though she’d decided to spare him the necessity of politeness. Instead, she took her time admiring the garden she was so familiar with.
“Maybe I simply wanted to have someone who would admire the flowers with me,” she replied innocently, a cheeky smile displayed on her lips, though they both knew that this was not the case. "You are a remarkable man, Frankenstein. One who even seems to be host to what feels like half of our Clan Leaders.“
Would he never ‘deny company’ to a lady? He had done plenty of that in the past, hadn’t he?
Experiencing something of a loss as to what past relevant behavior of his would impart such an impression on Janna, Frankenstein can only come back with memories of how enthusiastically Edian had had his audience for the sole purpose of attempting to issue threats for his banishment or, on her better days, his head. Yes, he supposes he had indeed humored the Noblewoman in a manner not so dissimilar to the way he is currently fulfilling the company Janna had requested of him.
Distant as always, he hardly thinks to offer the crook of his arm to her. Were she human, Frankenstein may have thought twice about social graces. In the end, humans and Nobles are never of the same mind, even if Janna seems to have spent a little around a millennium in touch with the world outside of Lukedonia. He is not exactly disposed to play a game of charades, and so continues joining her in taking in the gardens while avoiding close contact.
“Ah... I am flattered to be held in such high regard by someone as yourself,” he chooses his words with care for the effect of sincerity. He really has few thoughts and more questions when it comes to the unfamiliar her. Not to mention, had he any more say in the matter, the sanctuary he had gardened for his master in Korea would likely NOT serve a summer home, of sorts, to ‘half’ of Lukedonia’s leaders...
"I assure you, the prospect of acting as a host to so many had not been within my humble estimations when I first began.” This, at least, is the single, begrudging truth. “But what of yourself, who has whiled your days away from Lukedonia among us humans? Has what you discovered there catered to your satisfaction?”
He has never had it in him to make do with carelessly-made tea. Frankenstein was as much an apothecary as he was everything else; his measurements of shriveled loose leaves are precise even if he dwells amid the Noble kind, who know naught of what it takes to produce a proper cup, nor even what a proper cup tastes like. Herbs steeped in piping hot water to extract the full flavor, though its depth may be adjusted to suit the temperament of its taster.
Frankenstein glances over his shoulder and starts, unnerved to find Ragar Kertia situated closer than where he was mere moments ago in the sitting room. A brow arching, the scientist makes a point to show his mild perplexity, glancing between the Nobleman and the specific object of his intrigue - namely, the silver-and-porcelain tea set before them.
“... What?” He takes it upon himself to vocalize his question, seeing as Ragar does not appear inclined to voice his first. Frankenstein is only half serious: “Has this caught your interest somehow? Never would I have imagined that the dignified leader of the Kertia family would deign to observe something as ordinary as tea-making.”
He imagines she must have questions, as she always does.
He is somewhat pleased she has elected to outfit herself with the uniform that Frankenstein had so conscientiously designed with his real students and his master in mind, even in the privacy of his residence. Atop the elemental dignity with which she carried herself, Raizel’s servant senses from her a new spirit of inquiry. Something less personal between Frankenstein and Raskreia and more appropriate to the way she deigns to immerse herself in the alien culture of human in this ‘closed ecology’ the Nobles seem assume Ye Ran High, and the life he has set up for the Noblesse, is.
Being Frankenstein, he does not wait for the Lord to find her own seat, but rather rolls out one of the many ergonomic desk chairs, allowing her to situate herself before one of the many gaming computers. Once she has settled in, he straightens himself and offers her an infallible smile.
“You had asked what it is that my Master does for leisure, had you not? I know little of how much the children have shown you, Lord, but I would be pleased to personally show you the ropes, if that is what you would have me do.”
“Aren’t you and your Master the surprise comeback of the millennium, Frankenstein?” Like most nobles, Janna had assumed that Ser Raizel, the Noblesse, was gone for good, his body damaged beyond repair after the battle against the werewolf Lord, though the exact circumstances were unkown to her. And if he did not die.. certainly he must have gone into hiding. Naturally, everyone assumed that Frankenstein would be gone as well - yet here he was, back to Lukedonia with his master, albeit she heard from the Lord that this visit would be only brief. While Janna never had actual contact with the Noblesse ( who was she to bother him ?), she knew his contractee, though it was a fleeting acquaintance of a few polite words of greetings every couple of years, more than anything else.
“Tell me, do you even remember me?” Still as playful as ever, a coy smile appearing on the seemingly young woman’s lips. She had been halfway from her fifth to her sixth century when she last saw him, and she assumed she had not changed too much. Still, she would not let anyone take the small, fleeting joy of a bad jest. Janna took a couple of steps closer, mainly because she did not appreciate having too much space between her and her conversation partners. Especially not if she was having a casual chat.
“Come, take a walk with me, I promise I will not ask intrusive questions.”
He plasters his finest smile of diplomacy, a cheek dimpling. The man is weary, but would sooner take that to the swirling abyss of his grave than let it show. Now, it was no longer a matter of holding Lukedonia at arm’s length out of distrust as much as a pretense acted for his master’s benefit, that all is right with the world now that the root of atrocities done against the late Lord and the Noblesse’s names have finally been banished. The decent and the wicked, all dead, for better or for worse, and now he finds himself struck with yet more empathy for his Master as he stands before a face less familiar than the ‘Lady Drosia’ that had once hounded Frankenstein out of faith after the Noblesse.
“Come,” he retorts with a faint rumble of mirth in his chest. “I most certainly do.” She continues to share little in common with the late Edian Drosia, he notes, but how very Noble for her to not dwell after the Eternal Rest of her precursor. After recent events, he had nearly forgotten how well-accustomed he was to the introversion of most of their kind.
“Janna Lucretia Drosia. Speaking of ‘comebacks’, I might mention that your own is of no little consequence, either.” Though without any malice whatever, he wastes no time in returning the spotlight to her. Together, they step out into a lush green reserve dappled with rich coils of red, the luxuriant coiffures of the family’s garden.
“What would you ask of me, Janna? After so long, I believe this may the first time you have decided to reach out to me with the intention to speak at length. Do you not have more pressing matters at hand than a simple chat?” He probes. “Not that it is not welcome, I might add.”
Helo gentle steeds.... you thought u were gonna get Frankenstein but no, it me!!!! A SPICY LATTE!!! Like this post if ya wanna start an affair a thread!
Time and time again I tell myself I’ll only return once the authors make some sort of headway with the plot and its rut during the werewolves’ arc, and while I’m not exactly happy with current developments, I’ll go quietly... Because LBR I’ll never be happy unless I have things my way 8′)
I’d like to make a few points about this revelation:
1) sdkjfdskjfhsfjk Line you screwed me over I was storming over what reasons she could hate Frankenstein for when they probably didn’t even interact enough given she didn’t know he was a human???!?!?!?!??!?!?!?! I still think that’s fishy maybe I should get my friend to go over that scene with a fine comb
2) and then @paraclausithyron gave me reasons for Raskreia to hate Frankenstein I’m still laughing about this I told her “???” when discussing this and she was like “ :3c well [PULLS OUT RECEIPTS ON HER MUSE] “…. can’t think of reasons to hate him? I got some for you~ sajkfhkasjdsakjdhsa dies
3) now since it was Gejutel who actually said this (why did I not pay attention when going over the raws for scenes for my friend to look over for honorifics) the fact that RASKREIA finds AMUSEMENT (she smirked!!) in Gejutel saying “i may despise him but this is a refreshing side of Frankenstein” makes me question…. Raskreia… what you thinking… must I storm over it again…
4) well actually she probably still dislikes him, or is mostly “ :| “ towards him given the reasons Latte gave me before… but at least she probably doesn’t /hate/ him? maybe… eh well disgruntled respect it is… just like with Raizel… though [my] Raskreia seems to find Frankenstein v irritating at least laughs
At most I would think she would feel low-key disdain towards Frankenstein because among the ‘older’ generation of Nobles (aka Gejutel, Raizel, her) she still has the least knowledge regarding the origins of the special abilities and longevity he acquired #ForScience... Lots of nasty rumors went around about Frankenstein back in the day and it’s not like his MAIN MAN Gejutel is helping the situation by being suspicious of him......
I found out about the translation mistake before you did so at the time I was pulling my hair out over all the portrayal mistakes I must have made under the assumption that Frankenstein was on the receiving end of Raskreia’s enmity... but at the same time I didn’t want to look like a jackass pointing Line’s mistake out beause your portrayal looks canon to me whichever way I see it, honestly...
In any case, little to no friction between Frankenstein and the Lord just seems to make for a somewhat mundane relationship haha... Thus I figured I should just have Frankenstein act himself so that he would get on her nerves no matter what :]
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