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Fandom: Noblesse
Summary: Frankenstein wants to know something.
Notes: Writing a Trigun Stampede fic and brain wanted to remix one of the conversations there. No particular verse for this but pre-modern era.
Rating: G
Genre: General
Word count: 504
Total word count: 37,177
Status: Work in progress
"Muzaka," Frankenstein said as soon as he heard his window open. He'd been listening out for it, but he'd felt Muzaka's presence on the edge of his senses too.
"Yeah?" Muzaka slipped in with his usual disregard of the working door on the other side of the room, and when he dropped himself onto Frankenstein's bed, the lack of irritation at the act was a tell in itself of how Frankenstein's thoughts had changed. It was just something Muzaka did, and would continue to do.
"What else can kill a werewolf?"
"Heh, I thought that's what you were doin' all this time? Wantin' to find the answer yourself?"
Frankenstein glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. Muzaka didn't seem put out by the question, hands behind his head instead of the pillow that was right there. "I do, but I was...curious if werewolves could die of other causes such as grievous injury, or if it was only from old age that you might die."
"What's a 'grievous' injury?"
Ah, he really was trying to talk around the issue and a werewolf's idea of a fatal injury would be different from a human's. Frankenstein set his quill down -not that he had been writing anyway, having almost left ink blots across the page on numerous occasions- and turned to give Muzaka his full attention. "If you were to, say, lose a limb or be injured in the torso."
He was met with a blank stare, though Muzaka's gaze drifted around the room while he thought. "It'd probably affect a non-warrior," he said while he scratched his cheek scar, "maybe take 'em a while to grow it back, but it'd only take me a couple of heartbeats to regrow a limb, especially if I'm transformed."
Frankenstein stared at him. He knew werewolf healing was ridiculous, had seen it first-hand himself, but he hadn't realised it was to that extent. He'd certainly never had such an intense spar with Muzaka to have such injuries either.
"How come?" Muzaka said, focusing on him again. "Trying to figure out something else to do?"
"No. I..." Frankenstein exhaled. "I have come to the realisation that I wouldn't want to lose your companionship." He'd become used to Muzaka's comings and goings and didn't wish for them to stop.
"Oh." Muzaka didn't say anything for a few seconds, shifting in bed to a more comfortable position. "You don't have to worry then - I'm not that old and there's no other werewolf around that could harm me, heh. You'd probably be the most likely to figure something out more permanent, really," he said with a shrug.
And yet, Muzaka continued to visit him, even knowing Frankenstein's plans for what he did with his research.
Frankenstein must have been lost in his own thoughts as he started when he felt a warm arm wrap around his shoulders.
"I wouldn't want to lose you either," Muzaka said, words murmured directly into Frankenstein's ear.
Hm. It was good to know the feelings were mutual.
Summary: Frankenstein wants to know something.
Notes: Writing a Trigun Stampede fic and brain wanted to remix one of the conversations there. No particular verse for this but pre-modern era.
Rating: G
Genre: General
Word count: 504
Total word count: 37,177
Status: Work in progress
"Muzaka," Frankenstein said as soon as he heard his window open. He'd been listening out for it, but he'd felt Muzaka's presence on the edge of his senses too.
"Yeah?" Muzaka slipped in with his usual disregard of the working door on the other side of the room, and when he dropped himself onto Frankenstein's bed, the lack of irritation at the act was a tell in itself of how Frankenstein's thoughts had changed. It was just something Muzaka did, and would continue to do.
"What else can kill a werewolf?"
"Heh, I thought that's what you were doin' all this time? Wantin' to find the answer yourself?"
Frankenstein glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. Muzaka didn't seem put out by the question, hands behind his head instead of the pillow that was right there. "I do, but I was...curious if werewolves could die of other causes such as grievous injury, or if it was only from old age that you might die."
"What's a 'grievous' injury?"
Ah, he really was trying to talk around the issue and a werewolf's idea of a fatal injury would be different from a human's. Frankenstein set his quill down -not that he had been writing anyway, having almost left ink blots across the page on numerous occasions- and turned to give Muzaka his full attention. "If you were to, say, lose a limb or be injured in the torso."
He was met with a blank stare, though Muzaka's gaze drifted around the room while he thought. "It'd probably affect a non-warrior," he said while he scratched his cheek scar, "maybe take 'em a while to grow it back, but it'd only take me a couple of heartbeats to regrow a limb, especially if I'm transformed."
Frankenstein stared at him. He knew werewolf healing was ridiculous, had seen it first-hand himself, but he hadn't realised it was to that extent. He'd certainly never had such an intense spar with Muzaka to have such injuries either.
"How come?" Muzaka said, focusing on him again. "Trying to figure out something else to do?"
"No. I..." Frankenstein exhaled. "I have come to the realisation that I wouldn't want to lose your companionship." He'd become used to Muzaka's comings and goings and didn't wish for them to stop.
"Oh." Muzaka didn't say anything for a few seconds, shifting in bed to a more comfortable position. "You don't have to worry then - I'm not that old and there's no other werewolf around that could harm me, heh. You'd probably be the most likely to figure something out more permanent, really," he said with a shrug.
And yet, Muzaka continued to visit him, even knowing Frankenstein's plans for what he did with his research.
Frankenstein must have been lost in his own thoughts as he started when he felt a warm arm wrap around his shoulders.
"I wouldn't want to lose you either," Muzaka said, words murmured directly into Frankenstein's ear.
Hm. It was good to know the feelings were mutual.