Welcome to Gaia! ::

Scruff yipped and scratched at the other side of the door, and by the sound of the whine, even if the Hunchback was home, he wasn't getting up to answer the door. A faint groan from the other side confirmed it though. Thankfully, whoever had dropped him off had been so kind as to leave the door unlocked.

Laying in his modest bed, it seemed the hunchback had fallen asleep after he had last come to, his homework at least started on his bed side. By the looks of things he had put his back out, and badly. Well, Bed Rest did wonders, even for the undead, but certainly not this close after the incident. Upon hearing someone entering, he shifted ever so slightly with a grunt, still in his fancy clothes from class for the most part. His jacket was hung neatly on the chair by their professor's escorts, and his shoes on the floor by the bed, but that was as far as they went, dumping him to tend to his own wounds. He wished he had a replacement backbone in his collection, but unfortunately that was not even a surgery one could perform on their own.

Dimly, Amrita came into focus as he lifted his head, only to groan and flatten again.

Posture had never been one of his strong points. But he sure had shown them today.

At first Christof flinched at the sudden attention, but at the sign of the bowl and towel, he shifted to raise a hand to try and take the cloth to clean himself, but the action sent fresh electric jolts up and down his curved, unhappy hunched back and he was back on the pillows again. He was not the be-served type, the thought already sending him into a near panic attack, but honestly... He hadn't felt this sore since Christmas. Okay, being burnt to a cinder had been a lot worse. But this was close.

Shifting back, his brows furrowed, mouth twisted in a scowl, but he gingerly nodded his approval.

He was not about to ask her to put him in his pajamas, though. He'd.... figure something out.

Someone threw a book at her too?? Who ever was the culprit was going to PAY, the hunchback resolved, expression furrowing as she wiped the blood from under his nose. Well, his nice new cravat would be stained, but ah well. At least once it dried it would somewhat match the color of his coat.

And then she started talking. And talking. And talking some more. He could only nod sorely, listening away. Well, Rita seemed in a good mood- that's right! She had passed posture as well! Well, good for her. He groaned, groping gingerly for the thick pen he had been working on his homework with, turning it to his window sill to sorely write out 'Ett. Class = hurt. Posture test = racist.'

That done, he settled back again for the pain to subside again.

The pen went up again to another part of wooden frame, scratching away until it said, 'Good Igors do what they're told. If told by Master 'stand straight'! Should stand straight!' It seemed logical to him, anyway. Even so, his face was flushed with embarrassment. He just wanted to prove that he COULD. For what purpose, only he seemed to comprehend.

Personally, the hunchback didn't care about graffiti on his walls. USUALLY it was only him here anyway. But perhaps she was right. Seeing the sudden dark look on the young ghoul's face surprised him, shifting to try to pull his pillow under his hunch more so he could sit up and watch her, but a pinched nerve made it difficult. She really was anxious about her 'secret' wasn't she? He didn't think she should be. All of them were unique monstrosities of some sort, and young too. Heck, what sort of patchwork was he that kept falling to pieces at every turn? That certainly wasn't something to be proud of.

Trying to twitch the corners of his mouth up in an assuring smile, he gingerly reached out to point to his desk where his Holiday Notebook perched, sleeping. It would seem the reason he was using his blotching, old thick pen was because his school-issued one had slithered away, probably under his bed somewhere.

At the sudden movement to his neck, the Hunchback flinched in panic, sending the Book bat fluttering upwards. He immediately reached to try to grab it before it went far, but again his strained back made it's loud protest. He needed to learn not to DO that! And quickly. Well... well she had already seen him in less but. Hell's Bells, he didn't like this turning of tables. Being served upon went against all of his morals! Everything he had been told to think and beaten until he believed! The Book Bat returned, sniffing at his fingers for dirt under his nails like a butterfly searching for nectar. Hand shaking, he quickly scribbled down: Fine. Thank you. Do not need anything. Will just lay here until better. Shouldn't be long.