[ Even though it isn't necessarily a compliment, Rokurou's chuffed when Sasuke notes that he can tell. The pride of a swordsman never dies, even when he's been reduced to getting his fix by cutting vegetables.
He listens quietly while the other man speaks. The tone of Sasuke's voice is pleasant to the ear: low, somewhat languid. Even his scent, something the daemon gets another whiff of when he leans over to grab another vegetable, is nice. Clean, but with the undercurrent of nature. Wood? A hint of metal. Ashy touch. It wouldn't be easy to pick out in a crowd.
Another clan ... Rokurou chews on that similarity after mulling on his scent. Interesting, but ultimately clans aren't rare. He peeks up when Sasuke trails off, interest piqued and wanting the man to continue. Unfortunately, he doesn't finish that train of thought; Rokurou is left to wonder just what their specialization is. There's much to glean from careful observation but not nearly enough. He wants to know more.
He finishes up the chopping soon after. Stepping in to sweep the pieces into the pot, his juice-stained blade scrapes across wood to catch stray remnants. ]
I'd like that. I need to sharpen up my hand-to-hand combat.
[ Only having kitchen knives is regrettable, and he isn't stubborn enough to rely on them for the sake of his style. A huge concession on his part.
The food in the pot begins to sizzle. Rokurou adds spices, doing his best to mimic the recipe for curry that he knows. Their friend kept decently stocked cabinets, but from the lack of use, it isn't difficult to judge that he was the kind of guy who liked to order takeout even when there was food at home.
It doesn't take long for the aroma to build. Satisfied that the measurements are good enough, he closes the lid over the pot and washes his hands. ]
You said you're staying in an unfurnished room. Even if it's temporary, is that going to be comfortable for you?
no subject
He listens quietly while the other man speaks. The tone of Sasuke's voice is pleasant to the ear: low, somewhat languid. Even his scent, something the daemon gets another whiff of when he leans over to grab another vegetable, is nice. Clean, but with the undercurrent of nature. Wood? A hint of metal. Ashy touch. It wouldn't be easy to pick out in a crowd.
Another clan ... Rokurou chews on that similarity after mulling on his scent. Interesting, but ultimately clans aren't rare. He peeks up when Sasuke trails off, interest piqued and wanting the man to continue. Unfortunately, he doesn't finish that train of thought; Rokurou is left to wonder just what their specialization is. There's much to glean from careful observation but not nearly enough. He wants to know more.
He finishes up the chopping soon after. Stepping in to sweep the pieces into the pot, his juice-stained blade scrapes across wood to catch stray remnants. ]
I'd like that. I need to sharpen up my hand-to-hand combat.
[ Only having kitchen knives is regrettable, and he isn't stubborn enough to rely on them for the sake of his style. A huge concession on his part.
The food in the pot begins to sizzle. Rokurou adds spices, doing his best to mimic the recipe for curry that he knows. Their friend kept decently stocked cabinets, but from the lack of use, it isn't difficult to judge that he was the kind of guy who liked to order takeout even when there was food at home.
It doesn't take long for the aroma to build. Satisfied that the measurements are good enough, he closes the lid over the pot and washes his hands. ]
You said you're staying in an unfurnished room. Even if it's temporary, is that going to be comfortable for you?