Mixed Mewssages

Mew had returned to his desk, slumped back comfortably within his chair, one leg up while he casually flipped through a little notebook. He'd pause occasionally to scratch a thought down or cross something else out with an ornate pen. Skrtch skrtch skrtch, the head of the pen would fly against the paper, being the only noise in the otherwise happily silent room. Skrtch, skrtch, clink. Wait... clink? His pen froze mid word as his brows furrowed lightly. That certainly hadn't been from him. The noise sounded again not but a few moments later, and Myut turned his head toward the door. That had come from the main room. Sounded like plates. 

Putting his little checklist and pen down, Meu quietly rose from his desk with a soft look of curiosity. Who would be messing around with that? He peeked his head just around the doorframe, hoping to remain discreet should it be someone unsavory. He was surprised to see Amos instead. Well, that was rather good timing, what with no one else being around currently.

Disappearing back into his room for a moment, Myut re-emerged in utter silence, approaching Amos from behind on the guard's right.

"Need any help?"

With the strangled little yelp that escaped the guard's lips, the white-haired demon had immediately sprung into action - half from surprise himself. It had gotten him jumpstarted enough that he naturally stepped into the smaller demon to try to hide him, though he had dropped the painting he'd been carrying when he scared Amos and Amos in turn startled him. It would have been helpful to hold up to aid in blocking the boy from view. Instead, it had quietly lurched forward into a chair. At least that hadn't made any noise.

That was... less than ideal, Mew had to admit. It hadn't been particularly smart of him to sneak up on Amos like that, but he hadn't been intending to. Myut supposed he had just zeroed in on Amos a little too hard and hadn't even thought to announce himself coming. His arms, having protectively sided around Amos' person while he had used his body to block the blonde from view of the doors behind them, dropped abruptly as he cleared his throat softly and somehow not awkwardly. He took a step back, "Apologies," he spoke quietly now so he wouldn't spook the mouse any further. 

"Er, I'll help." He nodded to himself in decision, quickly walking to the other side of the table where Amos had not reached yet, hoping to redeem himself. The painting remained next to Amos' legs where it had fallen. Myut would retrieve it after they were done if Amos did not. He was careful to be quiet with the dishes.

Myut nodded in silence at the grateful word. It was the least he could do - he felt it would be far too awkward just to watch the little guard do all this work by himself. Meu was supposed to be coming across as approachable and helpful in order to gain Amos' favor.

As the smaller blonde came to a stop at his side with a gentle murmur, Meu carefully set aside the stack of plates he was working on. Hearing him say he was looking for him was beautiful music to Mew's ears. His lips pressed upwards from the impression of a soft grin. "Ah, that's right," he began, putting a hand on his hip and running a hand through his hair for a moment as he looked back toward his room.

"Let's get to that after we finish here," the olive-eyed Greed intoned, picking up the stack of plates he had abandoned moments before to calmly but swiftly bring them to the waiting cart. He intended to grab his little list once they were almost done. He'd do so when Amos had everything together on the cart and moved it to the 'door'. After all, Mew already knew that he shouldn't get to close to that wall lest it keep their mouse from doing his duty.

Just as planned, Meu returned to his room as Amos pushed the cart towards the wall. He would have offered to help do that too, but, obviously, that wasn’t going to be allowed. So, in the meantime of waiting for Amos to finish up, Myut’s hand perused over the desk in his room, sliding a notebook or two out of the way as he procured the list their blonde guard had requested. Meu hadn’t actually convened with Vivian just yet, but pulling from their prior encounter in which he had helped her go through her things, he had done his best to recall all those that had been missing and add them to their list.

With handwriting extremely neat and pleasantly flourished, the list was simple – broken into two headers for each demon with the ‘suspected’ thefts stacked below. It was no measly sum; though, to be fair, one item would be too many for Meu. Unfortunately for him, this note was comprised of three such things. Vivian’s was about the same, and Mew mused for a moment whether or not he should be grateful that her things had been taken too – for perhaps that had kept more of his own where they belonged. In any case, it would not do to dawdle much longer. The more time that passed, the more likely it was for Amos to become accosted by the other demons. That would suck big time for the both of them. Myut still wasn’t feeling particularly sociable at that moment, Amos being the exception, of course.

However, when the Greed turned around with the intent to return to the main room where he thought Amos would be waiting for him, he was instead surprised to find said blonde leaning against his doorframe. This caused naught but a tiny pause before Myut grinned, as it likely meant that this Pride was just as eager to get this done as he was. “Ah, I see you’re taking advantage of my open-door policy,” the Greed joked, having absolutely no power over whether or not he actually had a door to begin with.

“Kidding,” he added with a dumb smile, in case it had not been already obvious to the mouse, who, admittedly, might be getting nervous again if his current rap sheet was any indicator. “That only applies to you,” he adjoined playfully.

To be honest, it had stunned Mew to find the smaller demon at his door. He would have supposed that being stuck in a smaller room with any one of the seven apprehended devils would be unspeakable for Amos. Meu took it as another good sign in favor of his approach to the Prince’s lackey. Nonetheless, he was at the door and not necessarily within the confines of the Greed's tiny nest here. So, almost as if he wanted to avoid shattering his perceived reality, Mew walked up to the guard to offer him the list before he found Amos not actually feeling comfortable in coming any further.

In the same breath, though, Myut turned to the side to invite the guard in, "If you have any questions, don't let me keep you from taking a seat." He offered, should the sentry wish to discuss anything. Mew would insist should the other want to talk about his things - unless the blonde didn't mind Meu getting nice and close and personal to whisper to him. The Greed demon was not interested in having any eavesdroppers for his personal business, after all.

Meu watched, terribly pleased, when Amos sidled on over deeper into his den, taking a position against his desk. The taller Greed followed soon after him, listening as the other explained that he did indeed have a couple of questions. The white-haired demon nodded thoughtfully as he pulled his desk chair around, settling into it and resting his arms crisscrossed over the headrest, looking up at Amos with that charming, fanged grin of his.

He was impressed. Amos was making sure to cover all his bases and it showed that he was serious about Myut’s request. This was exactly what he needed from Amos – to ask questions and show how willing he was to work together with the Greed. He liked this very much. Amos was a competent worker, no wonder the Prince kept him in such a rank.

While not particularly appeased by the fact that the Mouse would be holding onto his things, he ultimately understood why. And far better for it to be in the guard-he-knew’s possession than that of whom he didn’t. It didn’t keep him from feeling frustrated inside, though. But Meu kept his facial features serene, only letting it be known by the light rapping of his fingers against the wood of the chair’s headrest. It meant he saw what Amos was doing, and he wanted Amos to know that he knew. “Very well,” he agreed. It’s not like Mew had the wiggle room to argue a better position for himself anyway.

The Greed held out a half-cupped hand to the Pride, giving a slight tilt of his chin in meaning toward the paper the guard held. He’d make the amendments to the paper he had already given him. It would be easier to have fewer pieces of paper to look after, and Meu didn’t give things out easily – even his note paper.

It took only a moment for Amos to catch his meaning to hand over the parchment. Quick lad. A momentary flash of consideration sparked through Meu’s mind, to which he indulged for the spirit of inquiry’s sake. Fingertips brushed lightly against fingertips as Mew otherwise confidently took the paper from Amos. He wanted to see what the little guard would do – would he recoil, or was he more comfortable with the Greed now? Was their Mouse curious as well? How much meaning should he give behind testing around with the little blonde? It was a novel curiosity, to be sure.

In any case, Mew hid any signs of intentionality, watching the Pride out of the corner of his eye for a moment or two before focusing on the given task of filling out more details. Quietude settled once more upon the room save for the scratch of the pen tip.

Or it did until a certain nosy little minx appeared and casually threw a handful of wrenches into the plan.

An exasperated little frown tugged at both his lips and his hand, the pen coming to a sudden halt. Why was she being so insistent on this idea that he was interested in Amos? Well, he was, but not necessarily in the way she was seductively insinuating. Normally it might be good harmless fun, but every time Bezabelle appeared like this it threatened to scare off the guard permanently.

“Bezabelle,” he chided disapprovingly, leaning back from the headrest to gaze calmly at the doorway where she stalked. Well, he also did want to know what Amos’ reaction to that would be, but the Greed had no intention of losing his quarry for the sake of a potentially flustered guard. “Yes, I also ‘just said’ that I would be needing to handle some personal matters with him.”

“You are interrupting,” he confirmed, crossing his arms, tone low and unyielding, but not overtly hostile. He intoned in such a way as to address her vaguely - he simply did not acknowledge her lure.