You’ll have to excuse him.
He’s not all that great with sarcasm or jokes,
it takes him a few seconds to catch on.
❝Thank you! Hygiene is an under rated quality——_ You’re kidding, aren’t you?❞
But is that the faintest trace of a smile that’s ghosting the blonde males lips?
He’s sensing that there’s no maliciousness here, not intentional maliciousness anyway.
A nod and another of those almost irritating throat clears,
he really has to do something about putting a stop to them.
He almost cringes every time he hears them himself.
God knows the irritation it must cause the poor souls around him.
❝I’m glad.
No—-_ No they’re my sisters.
They’re basically her children.❞
He doesn’t get it.
Sure, they’re sort of cute looking.
But they’re not that cute looking.
Especially not when they sit on his cream couch
and shed their fur all over his new matching egg shell cushions.
The smile will fade a little; resembling more of a grimace.
He should probably get those cushions cleaned.
The smirk widens until it’s an outright smile — a feat, considering the Ifrit smiles so rarely. As the pieces fall into place and the human realises it was a joke, the Ifrit shrugs a shoulder, grinning.
The incessant throat-clearing didn’t bother it very much. There were worse habits, including that ear-bleeding ummm noise humans seemed to need to emit to assure their puny little heads they don’t go mute inbetween thoughts.
“Her… children?”
That’s a new one, though something in the man’s tone suggests that the man doesn’t mean actual children. A… fondness? Humans were supposed to feel fond over their kin, though many times Iblis has witnessed cases that defies that norm.
“I prefer cats, though I find the idea of lording over animals quite abhorrently tyrannical. Not that I mind tyranny, mind you, but it puzzles me how happy dogs seem to be about the enslavement…”