mj and ice's excellent roleplay adventure

"Yes, don't want to overwhelm myself again," he laughs softly, tightening his grip around the books. A slight twinge of disappointment curls in his stomach. Alone, yet chaperoned like a child while Kaz does… Whatever it is he does. It makes Will question how often they'll see each other. One half of him absolutely relishes in the fact that he'll be away from the Snake, but the other half… Didn't they bond or whatever in the past few hours? "Alright then," He says, nodding towards the grand oak doors.

Will glances over his shoulder back at the library before turning his attention back to the hallway in front of him. The path is notably quicker than the winding labyrinth they took to first get to the library. He tries his best to commit landmarks to his memory.

The bedroom is the same as he left it. Grandiose unmade bed, wide windows that showcase even more of the lavish gardens, an attached bathroom bigger than Will's home back in the village. Will unconsciously gnaws on the inside of his cheek and nods, gripping the books slightly closer to his chest.

"I know," Will says quietly, though it's more for him than for Kaz. Slowly, he begins to make his way to the edge of the bed, setting the books down on the nightstand next to his satchel. Just to be sure, he glances inside of the bag to find his sketchbook and pencil from where he left them that morning. "So, are you just going to be leaving daily?" He glances over at the other man.

"And I understand that," Will replies, gripping one of the pillows to reshape and fluff. "I'm fully aware of your responsibilities." Though all it really does is makes him question how often he'd have to spend with the Snake. No matter how diabolical his other half gets, it does get lonely. Cold nights always seem to carry through each of their lives.

"Alright," Will replies, shifting the pillow again. And again. "I was just curious." He sighs through his nose, finally releasing the pillow to grab hold of one of the books. He sits down on the bed, keeping his eyes pointed at the cover instead of glancing at Kaz. The book's prettier than him, anyhow – with engraved gold writing on a weathered evergreen cover.

The silence that settles over them is… unsettling. Will drums his fingers along the cover of the book before slowly pulling it open. Before he reads what's on the page, he glances towards the door wondering when exactly this servant will show up and relieve Kaz of his duties. God, why can't this be easy, or at least why can't they feel comfortable around each other already?

(askd no worries!)

Will hardly looks up from the first page of his book at the entry of the servant. The wings slightly shock him, but he supposes in a world where sentient plants roam free, a man with wings is hardly a surprise. At the mention of his unwilling concubine status, Will shoots a glare in Kaz's direction, but doesn't linger long.

"Hello," Will greets quietly, turning back to his book. There are handwritten annotations in the margins. Will can't wait to dive deep into a previous reader's thought process.

Will hums, barely acknowledging the Snake's exit. His eyes skim over the first page, taking in the words and annotations. Just to take a brief peek at what's to come, Will carefully flips through the pages. The handwriting is looping and squished, the ends of words merging into others. Some of the notations are rushed and excited, as if the reader had come to a grand conclusion some time during their reading. Other times the comments are just a simple question mark, or even an exclamation point.

"Fascinating," Will mutters quietly, returning to the front cover of the book. It's only after he speaks does he realize the silence of the room. He glances up at the servant. "Do you speak much?" He asks, even though Will's a man of few words himself.

"I'm not going to order you to talk," Will replies, the idea of having that sort of authority over someone like poison on his tongue. "I was just wondering if it was always going to be this quiet." He flips through the pages, allowing Ivan to carry through his work.

Will stops at the page break, green eyes flicking up to the young servant. "How long have you been here at the palace?" He asks after hesitantly choosing his words.

Will hums softly, carefully taking in the appearance of the servant. Young, a teen perhaps. A few years… How old must he have been when he arrived? "Do you work here willingly?" He asks, flipping the page and briefly taking in the first set of annotations paired with a simple diagram.

Will blinks, nods, and shifts his position on the armchair that he had moved to to allow Ivan the chance to tidy the bed. "Yes, but I'm asking if you are forced to work here." He licks the pad of his finger before flipping the page, reading over how energy flows through the veins of sentient plants, making them conscious and independent. The servant could be… Well, not a slave but maybe indentured. Will's own way of arriving in the palace wasn't luxurious in the slightest. It makes him wonder if others faced the same treatment.

Will nods, accepting the information without any question. The servant wouldn't really have a reason to lie to him anyways. Plus, this Ivan doesn't seem to feel malicious or conniving in any sort of way. His words feel the truth, so Will believes him. "Alright then," He responds, just to fill the silence before flipping another page to observe a diagram of a simple sentient sapling… Fascinating, He murmurs internally, brushing his fingers over the picture. Perhaps he should take a pen to the margins like the reader before him.

Will's eyes start to wander, away from his book to the man that lightly peddles around the room fixing this and that. He's quiet. He feels uneasy. His presence makes Will wish to fill silence, to fix the tension that's probably just a pigment of his imagination. He taps the spine of the book before snapping it shut, setting it on the nightstand. Standing, he picks up his bag and fits the two library books next to his sketchbook, pen, and deck of tarot cards. The room is crossed in a few quick strides, he hangs the bag in the wardrobe, letting it dangle next to some of Kazimir's garments. Not wanting to stand around, Will begins to pick up a few discarded pieces of clothing on the floor, folding them neatly - just like his mother taught him.

Will looks at the boy with a teeming, unimpressed glance. "I'm feeling restless. I thought I might help out a little bit." He grabs the clothes back from the servant. "And please, don't tell me not to do something." You are not somebody who has authority over me. "I only do what I want to do. I can assure you that… Ivan, correct?"