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The hunchback's face twisted as he wrestled for the right word, hands hovering before signing, simply, "Machines."

He lead them into the supply room, flicking a switch to turn on the light as they went... it was of moderate size, but filled with a heavy wooden table in the center, shelves of chemicals and tools and supplies, a good portion of wall taken up by various chutes that lead who-knew-where... and there was even what was, mundanely, a washer and a drier. Large and properly mad-science-built, but their ultimate purposes was to get things clean. Tucked in the corner by the water heater was a cot, and near that, a pile of what looked like the clothes peeled off of the corpses harvested outside. They weren't needed when things were reduced to Spare Parts.

He wobbled to a drawer, pulling out a needle and thread to reattach the wrist that Verdan had severed, sitting heavily on his bed.

"Well it's not like you share anything about your family." Calder commented, hanging around the chutes and trying to figure out that they did and where they went. He was poking and prying about, but could tell that in all this, this was Christof's room of sorts. It was a little sad considering the space and rooms available. It wasn't like Calder didn't notice the rather easy way Dr. Fell regarded Christof. A rainy-day experiment that kept his interest for one reason or another that he kept upgrading him and sent him to school, but being here felt like he didn't care about much else about the Igor. Another servant. Since Christof cared so much about his master, Calder felt bad that it didn't seem it was appreciated.

Calder moved along, moving over and hopping up to sit on the dryer. "I really did want to see you. I thought it would be nice. I don't know why you were so upset before. Dr. Fell doesn't seem to mind at all, and we won't bother him while he's sleeping. I promise I won't get in the way at all, and I do want to spend time with you, even if it's helping you work."

"Not a very err, socialized demon, is he? Dr. Fell. His accommodations for long-term guests seem to be on the...minimalist side. ...And serving toast and paste. Of course, my grandfather served a single sardine my first night, but he's a Greed demon...err, Dr. Fell isn't, is he? Avarice. Still, he does have all this property. It's the err...welcoming and entertaining that seems...ill-practiced. Unless he's just trying to let us know we're not welcome."

He looked at Calder.

"I can't say I'll be helping with any...work," he said the word reluctantly, "but...well, no, that's all I think. I can't help with that."

Christof flushed slightly at Calder's compliments. He knew it was an impressive home and he was proud of it. He just... was feeling out of sorts. The surgeries,perhaps. Exhaustion. He felt very like minded with the Sloth at that point, although he never would admit it aloud. There was too much to do. First thing was first-

He pulled out a pair of long, sharp scissors, cutting into one of the coats he had found. After he had the parts he needed, he set the tools down, freeing his hands to timidly sign, "Does-not-entertain-frequently. Always-busy. Guests-not-guests." The last part made his fingers contort and he quickly worked to fish out the needle and thread. His third arm clumsily lifted two of the pieces to his left- once he concentrated, it really was.... useful. If... awkward. And embarrassing.

Just another machine, getting closer to perfection.

"Ohhh. I see. Well, he has a big place and no family. Seems a bit sad. No wonder he made someone to be with. I bet if he had a wife, he'd have kids to keep him company." To this, Calder turned to Barth. "So watch out or you'll wind up alone, Barth." And then turned to Christof. "You too." That done, he looked through more clothes before the smell got to him. Ugh. Oil. Chemicals. Dead parts. He was feeling a little light in the head.

Stopping, he moved back to sit on the dryer. "....So ya think the graves out there are his enemies or his family? Seems sad to have such a big graveyard and everyone up and die on you. No harm meant though. Glad to have you around." He said to Christof who's existence was from dead parts.

Looking back, he noticed that Barth seemed a little concerned about Dr. Fell knowing about his family. "I thought demons just knew about other demons, Barth. Is your family rich and famous or anything like that? Even though Christof's master doesn't entertain much, he knows about you." Calder looked back at Christof as he worked on sewing up some clothes. He still looked sad and miserable. "Christof, do you need anything? I can go back to the kitchen and ask for some tea or a glass of water. Or....Barth and I can go to our rooms and you can take a nap." Then he smiled. "Or we can all nap together." He liked napping together.

"Infamous, a little. He does a lot of business. My father is not the point. ...You told him?" Barth asked Christof lightly.

It worried him much less than the alternative.

He tapped his claws again at the mention of going. He wondered if Calder was being deliberately dense on this particular subject. A demon's relatives, friends, and guests never just ended up in a graveyard out of tragedy.

He had talked to Fell. And learned a few things. But certainly not determined at any length the things he wanted to know. Why was getting a proper audience with another demon always so difficult?

At Barth's light accusation, Christof flushed, hands trembling as he lowered his sewing to gingerly sign, 'Only-' He stopped, struggling to figure out the wording, "Only-what-unavoidable". A lot of it, the Good Doctor had pieced together on his own.

But an Igor had a purpose, after all. Whether they liked it or not. He returned to his sewing, intent on finishing quickly so they could move on. Give the tour, be polite, and then get them out of there.. before Dr. Fell grew... creative again. There was no need to worry Calder... even if he COULD have physically brought himself to explain.

Dark Fear Magics did not work that way.

From the drier came a sudden, echoing 'woof' just behind Barth, and the hunchback suddenly froze, eyes wide. He... he had almost forgotten! Oh, Hell's Bells- Even unfinished, he swung the coat around his shoulders, breaking the thread from the needle by hand before wobbling towards the Sloth with an intent expression.