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Friede never really saw the director's daughter around much, but he knew she was calm and collected, and didn't appreciate people approaching her. But he decided it might be nice to try when he noticing her walking around, holding her Corvisquire, Charcadet in tow. Friede got up from his chair in the lounge, seeing as it was his lunch break, and walked over to her.
"Fancy seeing you around here! I haven't seen you around much!" Friede chirped, the violet eyes snapping on the him with an intensity that almost made him take a step back.
"If I may recall correctly, I've seen you more than you've seen me, Friede. Blind rat." The last part was just enough audible for only Friede to hear, who blinked in confusion.
"Come on, don't be rude to you 'elders', even though I'm only like twice your age, but still...!" Friede replied back with a chuckle. He was not about to get disrespected by a 12 year old, right? Right...?
"First, respect is earned, not given. Second, you're an old furfrou doppelgänger who can't learn to keep his stupid snarky mouth shut." She replied with malice, her eyes narrowed.
Friede blinked as she turned and walked away, her two-toned hair swishing from how fast she turned. Friede followed.
"Come on, can't even chat? We can talk over coffee. Or whatever you'd want to drink." Friede kept in pace with her, stooping a bit later after she did.
"You sound like you asking me on a date, either answer is no." Her face didn't change, she walked past him.
"Well-- Uh! Didn't catch your name--!" Friede replied, nervous for some reason.
"Amethio." She walked into the elevator, Friede following. It wasn't his fault he also had to go down to the lunch room!
"So-" Friede started.
"Don't."
"Huh?"
"Don't try small talk. The elevator doesn't take that long." As if on cue, the elevator stopped. But the door didn't open. Friede pressed the open button, the door opened to nothing but metal. They were stuck.
"The elevators stuck?"
"I guess..." Friede tilted his head.
He heard someone sitting down, turning to see Amethio plopped on the floor, her legs brought to her chest and a bored expression on her face. He knelt down, tapping her knee, which resulted in her flinching and looking up, slightly -- actually not slightly -- irritated.
"What do you want, you old warted toad."
"Yeesh, rude." Friede half-feigned offense, a hand brought to his chest.
"It's hard not to be when a 'oh so smart' twink tries to make small talk with me. Don't try talking to me you fat lump of brain mush, mushrooms would grow on you but they can't because you're too much of a pulp." Malice was in her tone, obviously irritated.
Friede blinked in confusion, not knowing whether to feel amused, sad, or extremely offended. He chose the last, but didn't take it out in fear of getting his feelings hurt more than they were now.
The elevator started moving again, slowing to a stop as the 12 year old stood up.
"Hope I won't see you around, you childish airhead." She replied right as she exited the elevator. Friede swore he could hear amusement in her tone. Well, his lunch wasn't gonna eat itself.
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"A-and then-- and then she called me an old warted to-oad...!" Friede broke out between sobs, on the phone with Orla.
She snickered a bit. "H-how are you this offended by-- by a literal 12 year old girl...?" She broke out into laughter at the last part, and then a hang up sound played. Good. Let Friede cry in his own over dramatic sorrows. She chuckled to herself.