Lucilia looked at the Archmage he left, seemingly exasperated. It was while Lucilia was was distracted that Zessoku she decided to cope a feel. Lucilia looked at Zessoku with a mix of confusion and pleasure, unsure if she was suppose to be unhappy. And then Zessoku slapped her. In her drunken state, she was too wasted to really form any coherent words or think of anything with a strait mind, and after wobbling a bit, Lucilia smiled. She actually felt that slap, unlike many other times before. Her sense of touch was dull, and because she could not feel pain, she never could feel pleasure. She wasn't sure if Zessoku was that strong, or if Lucilia was just drunk enough, but she wanted her to do it again. So Lucilia leaned forward and grabbed Zessoku by the shoulders, moving her face much too close then it should. "Do... Do that again." Then Lucilia moved her face in, pressing her forehead against Zessoku. The vampire pressed her body against Zessoku, leaning on her. The smell of alcohol could be smelled in her breath. Their lips were only an inch apart.
Karnage couldn't really tell what was happening, as he was trying his best not to care. He felt someone drag him to a fireplace, where the heat from the flames reminded him of the time he was in the library. That was a pleasant memory. As Pylia continued to speak to the other humans and heal him, one of them draped some sort of cloth over him. Karnage looked wide-eyed at him, thinking that he was being trapped underneath a net of sorts. But the cloth was not that heavy, and it warmed him somehow. Then, the human took out a knife... And a piece of meat. He cut off meat and fed them to Karnage. He was unsure if he wanted to, but he was at the mercy of the humans. If they really wanted to kill him, Pylia wouldn't be here, and that knife would be in his heart right now. So Karnage ate a bit, not really expecting to actually be fed. He was confused. It was only a few minutes before that he was in a fight with Uicle, where even the Archmage intervene and destroyed one of his precious lances. And yet here he was now, being given warmth, healing, and company. It reminded him of a very faint memory; his childhood. His mother once treated him like this, after an incident that he does not remember well. He was tucked onto a mat, kept warm from the winter cold. He was given pieces of meat every so often, just like now. As he laid there being healed, he was given more to eat. He recognized some as fruit, something that was a delicacy to him, but the other thing he was unsure of. It had a strong smell, and it was a strange color. Normally he doesn't eat things without someone else eating it first (to make sure it was edible or not poison), but because of the kind treatment he was given, he decided to trust them just enough to eat a piece. It was pleasant. As Karange was being healed, he scratched a few words into the ground, which were difficult to decipher because he could not see his handwriting. But it said thank you.