Of Silence and Fountains
Word Count: 250
"It is a fine weather today, is it not?" Roctis commented casually, with a tight-lipped smile.
The Noblesse showed no visible sign of acknowledging the noble. He merely kept staring outside the window with an apathetic expression.
"The sound of birds chirping is most relaxing, is it not?" Roctis continued, unperturbed; he was determined to get a reaction out of the stoic being this day.
The dark haired male simply ignored him once more. His crimson gaze was transfixed intently on something outside, making Roctis curious as to what it could be.
He approached the large window slowly, only to be stunned into shock by what he saw transpiring in the garden below.
"I will apologize on our Lord's behalf, Raizel-nim." The clan leader bowed deeply as he hurried outside, in a futile attempt to knock some sense into their Lord.
"My Lord!" Roctis cried when he finally reached the blond man.
"Oh, Roctis! You came to visit Cadis Etrama Di Raizel as well? Splendid! He certainly needs the company. However, as the Lord, I regret to admit I am not able to visit him often. Therefore, I thought my present would serve to soothe his loneliness when I am not here!" the Lord explained in detail, smiling.
"Is it not magnificent?" he then asked with pure joy, motioning towards what had – without doubt – caught the Noblesse's sole attention.
"I do not think Raizel-nim would appreciate a fountain with a statue of your resplendent figure built into his garden."
Of Challenges and Cooking
Word Count: 100
"This tasteless charade must come to an end, Raizel-nim. I implore you to restrain your servant lest you tragically lose him," Gejutel pleaded with the dispassionate being for the fourth time this month.
Frankenstein snorted with a maniacal grin. "Please, surely you jest, Gejutel. I could take all of you on at once; and it would still not be enough to kill me."
"Frankenstein," the Noblesse called in a steely, toneless voice.
"Master?" Frankenstein straightened up immediately. The sinister smirk was wiped off of his face as well.
"If you must compete…do so over culinary skills. You excel at cooking."
Of Wives and Depression
Word Count: 100
"Aaahhh…" The Lord sighed dejectedly as he slumped further into his throne; a dark mood had replaced his usual cheery demeanor.
"My Lord," Ragar called tentatively.
The golden haired man ignored the masked noble completely.
"I am sure her Ladyship shall return soon. There is really no need to become depressed," Ragar tried to comfort his Lord over the current absence of his wife.
The Lord let out an impressive whine miserably. "My wife? No! I miss my daughter! Why would she separate me from my beloved daughter for a whole week!?"
Perhaps she wished for your attention as well?