Welcome to Gaia! ::

He nodded with a soft whine, hands rising again, "Master-concerned-about-weapons. Un-making-weapons. Have-been-assisting. Started-after-Master-captured-in-Haunted-House." His expression turned a bit impatient, as it often did when Barth was concerned, "Progress-slow. As-can-imagine. Mostly-information-gathering. Taken-things-into-my-hands. Try-to-push-further. No-luck. No-leads." His breathing quickened, hand movements for the signed words growing a bit quicker in his anxiety, "Puzzles-to-solve. Pieces-in-the-right-place. Close-but-far. Frustrated. Feel-blind-stupid."

Christof shifted in his chair uncomfortably for a moment before tapping his temple with a fresh grunt, lowering his hands to add, "Much-to-learn-from-human-mechanisms. Need-more-study. Good-lead, to-start. Far-to-go."

"Couldn't-keep-it-anyway," Christof signed miserably, "Humans-explode. Weak-flesh-weak-parts." He shook his head, sinking back into his seat to stare at his work with an air of depression.

"Hunter-parts-useless," Christof huffed as he signed as though Mal was getting off track. "Possible-to-torture-for-information. Last-Hunter-" He stopped. That whole event had ended disappointingly.

"Best-find-body. All-research-pointless-without. Cure-important, not-just-for-Mistress. Un-weapon. Un-stone. Same-end." There was a particular gleam in his eyes.

Christof narrowed his eyes, glancing back to the plague doctor for several moments of silence before looking back to his desk.

His stitched lips wormed for a moment before he pulled the drawer open, offering a small notebook out to Malodore with an unreadable expression, "Have-thoughts-on-what-to-do-about-humans. Tell-no-one."

The notebook was filled with carefully sketched blueprints and theories, a lot of question marks to be filled in, but a very clear design. "Far-from-able-to-begin. But-thinking-always." He signed simply, before snatching the notebook back.

Perhaps the quick glimpse would give the Plague Doctor the same comfort it gave him.

Mal had spoke of cutting out their hearts.

Christof's imagination, it would seem, lead to far more destructive options.

Christof flushed. That was a tricky answer.... had this been when he was younger, he would have fully denied it, given Barth credit. Igors were not expected to be, nor supposed to be clever.

But he could trust Mal.

He cleared his throat and nodded, patting his chest a moment before signing, "Barth-usually-wastes-inventions-on-more-comfortable-couches-with-wheels."

Christof grunted, "Only-ideas. Plans. Not-nearly-developed-enough-to-work. Yet." He signed slowly, happy at least for this sort of talk. It was uplifting. Amrita tried to be interested in his work, but often glazed over or tried to distract him in some way. He knew he needed to tend to his.... ghoulfriend... more but....

It was hard to think about anything but simple, easy things, like Parts and Mechanisms. "Need-to-build-sample-mechanisms. Remote-control, send-to-human-world. Take-video-audio. See-how-it-holds-up. Then-build-bigger. Mount-guns." He seemed vehement about the idea, as though he had put far too much thought into the plan of attack.

"Hunters-not-hard-to-capture. Barely-put-up-fight-before-it..." He trailed off. Mal wasn't a member of Seeds. Christof himself hadn't had much interest until... lately. Even so, he was wary of online forums. Even anonymously. He preferred to lurk.

"Can-keep-secret?"