[u][b]Regis Dimitrios[/b][/u]

"I was just curious, and a bit confused. My parents are home fairly often, so it was just a bit odd to hear that you were alone enough to teach yourself that kind of stuff."

Regis blinked. Through his partners blatantly romantically grounded worrying, he was suddenly overcome with the urge to call his parents. Not for any particular reason, just to talk. Ask how work has been. Maybe if they'll be free anytime during the holidays. Maybe they could go see a movie. He began to rub his neck, as the concern-esque colours that emanated from Monty made Regis strangely uncomfortable, for reasons he wasn't quite sure of. Was his family life really that strange? This may be the longest he's ever held a conversation with someone his own age, he can't quite remember ever having asked anyone about what their home life was like.

"Well, uh, your parents are probably just not as busy as mine. If they even took a single day off the company would fall apart! Important people are very busy."

Monty's parents were home often? As in, every night? Was that normal? No, Monty was the strange one. Regis was a well-adjusted boy with a well-adjusted home life and well-adjusted interpersonal relationships. His partner was just over-coddled! How spoilt! How pampered! How... How... nice. Regis would call his parents later.

His partner, who was sorting out his things, mentioned the monster hunting class and boy howdy did the sweating begin again.

"R-right! Monster hunting! Your concern is cute, but completely unfounded! For you see, I am also highly skilled in...” There was a firm knock on the door, interrupting his completely true and not faked boasting. Regis furrowed his brow, and stormed towards the door. “Why on earth do people keep interrupting us? Does no-one understand just how important we ar—Oh, it’s just you.” He opened the door to a middle-aged maid lugging around what had to have been 7 taped up medium sized cardboard boxes stacked in a wheeled luggage carrier.

“Oh yes, ‘just me’, the woman that practically raised you lugging around your rock collection,” she said, looking down at him from behind her oval glasses. Regis shot his head around to his partner the very second she started saying ‘rock’.

“Haha, she’s being [i]figurative[/i]!” he stammered nervously. “As in ‘these boxes are as heavy as rocks’, haha, good one, Martha.”

“I was referring to your literal rock collection in box 3—“

“Excuse us for a moment!” he said loudly, hurriedly moving outside and shutting the door behind him. He turned up to the woman angrily. “First of all, that is a [i]geode[/i] collection. Second of all, why didn’t you just send a delivery man or something? Don’t you have anything better to do, you old hag?” He was completely oblivious to just how loud he was talking. A ‘could probably hear what was being said if you tried to listen’ level of loud.

“Your parents were merely curious as to who you were paired with.”

“His name is Monty Goldberg. Now leave.”

“They were more hoping for ‘what type of person’ they are.”

“He’s a lovely fellow! Polite! Attractive! He can cook! 10 out of 10, would recommend. Ok, go home.” He swept his hands forth in a ‘shoo, shoo’ fashion.

“Why are you so hostile today?” she said calmly.

“I’m not hostile. Do not tell me I’m hostile. I just don’t want anyone to mess this up for me. I am finally talking with a person my own age. Conversing! And I don’t need your pompous self in there making him think the Dimitrios family hires high and mighty snobs! He might think [i]I’m[/i] a high and mighty snob!”

“What an awful misconception that would be,” she said. Regis could not make out a single colour this woman was feeling. He had a vague feeling it wasn’t positive, but we wasn’t sure.

“I know, right? So, in short, go away and tell my parents that my partner is superb. Actually no, I’ll call them tonight and say it myself.” Martha gave off the only easily recognizable colour he had seen in her yet: mild surprise.

“Very well. But call me ‘old hag’ again and I’ll tell your parents that Monty is a low-class delinquent that just exited juvenile detention.”

“You wouldn’t d—wait, you might. Dammit. I... apologize,” he said with a transparent lack of sincerity. She didn’t seem to give off any colours that indicated she particularly impressed, but she didn’t say anything in response towards it.

“Very well, then I’ll be leaving. Do stay out of trouble.” she said, and turned away.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled to himself irritably, only just having realised that St. Fortuna wouldn’t even let someone like that enter in the first place. Opening the door he dragged the luggage carrier in with him, utterly shocked at the sheer weight of the thing. How far had she managed to lug this thing? He somehow dragged the thing inside, and went back to talk to his partner. “Sorry about that! You know how maids are, amiright? So, uh, what were we discussing?” He legitimately could not remember, and looked out at the boy unpacking his single bag of luggage. “Eh, probably wasn’t important. So when’s the rest of your luggage coming?” Surely the luggage Monty had brought himself wasn’t [i]all[/i] of his belongings.