<span style="font-style: italic">Isn't Azrael that cat from the Smurfs?</span>Elle wanted to ask, but decided against it, especially since she had just told him off for being rude. She didn't get the feeling that comparing him to a fluffy animal immediately thereafter would be a shining example of how to behave. She was still ticked off by his dismissal of her outburst. As if she was just someone to disregard. Despite all this, she couldn't keep herself from smiling at his childlike surprise over a chair. A<span style="font-style: italic">chair,</span>of all things. Though to be honest, it<span style="font-style: italic">was</span>a rather spectacular chair. Inherited from her maternal grandmother, it was a tall, dark blue winged armchair, and by far the most comfortable piece of furniture in the flat. "That's a laptop," she said, answering his first question with a mild expression.<br/><br/>It was a fairly simple place. From the rickety stairs outside, you went directly into a rectangular room, the largest of three. It served as a combined living room and kitchen, with a fridge, a stove and a narrow counter off to one side. At the other end of the room, the arm chair stood, accompanied by a coffee table made of dark wood and the laptop sitting on it. Two mismatched stepladders and some planks played the part of the bookshelf. More or less unstable towers of vividly colored volumes laid around it, as there was no more room for them on the planks. Two doors led into a bedroom and a tiny bathroom, respectively.<br/><br/>A black cat zoomed out of one of the doors and towards Elle as it heard them rummage around. "Yeah, chairs are fairly common now," Elle said as she scooped up the small animal, which immediately began staring at Azrael with yellow, unblinking eyes. "And this is Raphael. Three more and I can have my very own version of the Ninja Turtles," she said with a grin, rubbing the cat between its ears. Still carrying the cat, she went across the floor, kicking off her running shoes as she sat down cross legged in front of the chair. Her initial assurance of his superhuman nature had begun to dampen, and she was becoming more convinced that he was, indeed, just a weirdo. Still, there was definitely something off about him. Maybe a really dedicated LARPer. She bit her lip, absentmindedly petting the cat. "Azrael, then. Odd name, but I'm sure I've heard it before somewhere." Then, always wanting to make others feel comfortable: "Would you like a cup of tea?"