The rise he gets in return all at once puts wind in J's flagging sails, lending him to stray from the circular thoughts that have been set to a constant tail-chasing spin since a body had been abandoned like just another piece of refuge in the aftermath of battle. Shoulders hitch themselves up as they're wracked with a slight tremor before the laugh he'd been suppressing in the dead quiet of these dark halls breaks the gloomy mood.
A laugh doesn't unwind all that's been sewn into the fabric of reality in the days that followed an ugly fight, but it does offer a temporary distraction. Obscuring from his immediate view the conundrum that J needs more than a red-hot thirst for restitution to muster any success in his efforts. At the very minimum, he requires a team of Kenoma volunteers to even any odds he's working against that might be aiding Makoto's kidnapper.
One hand reaches to swipe at his own cheek with a grin pulled wide under mischievous eyes, to evict any trace of a tangled mix of amusement and less exuberant emotions pricking at the corners of his vision. "Mother-henning, then."
"You've very good at it, what with all the time you've spent with the tiny-tots around here." He lures the subject away from matters close to heart, and in a direction that keeps J's impish grin from so much as budging. Until Barnaby suddenly offers, in a sense, for J to make use of his shoulder to lean on, should he need it. What a strange notion. An Archduke set among the most powerful and high-ranked creatures in all of Hell, ushered into being tenderly coddled by a mortal. A man who had started out as merely a useful pawn, turned into someone that now pulls him from the well of darkness the last few days have been.
"Is that so? And for how long do you plan to look after me?" As they walk, J's form dips nearer to gently bump against Barnaby's side, nudging him affectionately as they wind their way farther from the memory of the Innocent's demise. Up towards a portion of the Citadel that boasts a little fresh air with a wide balcony and a bar meant for socializing, which he feels isn't just desired but warranted under the recent circumstances.
no subject
A laugh doesn't unwind all that's been sewn into the fabric of reality in the days that followed an ugly fight, but it does offer a temporary distraction. Obscuring from his immediate view the conundrum that J needs more than a red-hot thirst for restitution to muster any success in his efforts. At the very minimum, he requires a team of Kenoma volunteers to even any odds he's working against that might be aiding Makoto's kidnapper.
One hand reaches to swipe at his own cheek with a grin pulled wide under mischievous eyes, to evict any trace of a tangled mix of amusement and less exuberant emotions pricking at the corners of his vision. "Mother-henning, then."
"You've very good at it, what with all the time you've spent with the tiny-tots around here." He lures the subject away from matters close to heart, and in a direction that keeps J's impish grin from so much as budging. Until Barnaby suddenly offers, in a sense, for J to make use of his shoulder to lean on, should he need it. What a strange notion. An Archduke set among the most powerful and high-ranked creatures in all of Hell, ushered into being tenderly coddled by a mortal. A man who had started out as merely a useful pawn, turned into someone that now pulls him from the well of darkness the last few days have been.
"Is that so? And for how long do you plan to look after me?" As they walk, J's form dips nearer to gently bump against Barnaby's side, nudging him affectionately as they wind their way farther from the memory of the Innocent's demise. Up towards a portion of the Citadel that boasts a little fresh air with a wide balcony and a bar meant for socializing, which he feels isn't just desired but warranted under the recent circumstances.