Humans were indeed very nosy creatures, always wandering into places they didn't belong—one of few qualities the hellion could actually relate to them on. In Luvkal's defense, they always had a worthwhile reason to snoop, even if that reason was to expand their collection of knowledge that they most certainly should not know. If anything, a warning label only intrigued them further. And while all physical evidence suggested the contrary, they did not regret venturing through the maze in the slightest, regardless of the unearthing of dead-and-buried memories from their graves. The demon even opted to take it as more of a refresher, a gift, than painful reminders of the past.
Once satisfied with their inspection of the bookshelf and all its volumes and tomes, Luvkal gravitated back towards the tasteful decor, their hands now pinned firmly at the small of their back as they peered into vases and glanced over plants, almost as though they were looking for. . . well, God knows. Even the midst of their tail had come to curl about their calf, spade end tapping thoughtfully against the heel of their boot as they walked to keep it from knocking into anything that might be of importance. There were no less than a thousand words begging to be spoken, questions to be asked, but they would not waste whatever patience they were being given with frivolous inquiry; they were simply waiting for the right words to come.

He finally approached the table but did not seat himself, only plucked one of the glasses from the table to nestle it precariously between index and middle finger. "I'm starting to get the feeling there are very few things I can tell you that you won't want to kill me for," he mused, a quirked brow daring the other to challenge him. Getting a rise out of others seemed to be what Luvkal did best, and he took great pride in knowing that there were some acquaintances out there who fantasized about wringing that pretty neck of his whenever his name came up in a conversation. And with the way things were going, it seemed that it wouldn't take very much effort to get the warlord there as well.
The beast sipped gingerly at his drink, pausing not only to savor the refined flavor but to ponder where to start with his. . . well, he wouldn't call it an interrogation per se. It was more like a one-sided date, with the threat of sudden death lingering nearby.

"I don't know you, Karanthir, and that frustrates me." He pulled his boa tighter about his shoulders, using his free hand to stroke the dark, silky fur that still smelled faintly of Hell's inferno as his gaze fixed upon the face that peered back at him from within his glass. His bitterness was poorly concealed at best, not that he'd been trying to hide it in the first place. Pouting usually helps a pretty face get its way anyhow.
"I mean, I could go about it the old-fashioned way and hire a few soldiers of my own, but their loyalty is easily bought and I have a feeling that I do not have the upper hand here in that regard," he went on as he continued with his exploration of the new space, though this time it was more so an effort to keep himself moving should his words ever happen to cross a line. "So yes, I do want something from you. I want you to answer my questions. I promise I won't get too personal unless you've been dying to monologue- I'm sure you like the sound of your voice as much as I do."

Once they had subtly put a comfortable amount of space between their host and themself, Luvkal turned back to face the water demon, shifting their weight onto one foot to offset the rigidness of their posture. "I do fully plan to bring the world crashing down on your head one day, my lord, but it'd be a lot more fun for both of us if I knew who I was dealing with first. I mean, I don't even know what you do for work," they added pointedly before taking another swig of the wine, finally quieting down despite how many of their desires still waited upon their tongue. Giving an opportunity for a counter was part of the negotiation process; there would always be room for more intense persuasion down the line should they find themself needing to inflict a little more force.

There was little else Ilya found more soothing than the dissonant thrum of rain.

All of the lights were turned off save for that of the monitor, allowing what little sunlight peaked through the clouds to pool upon his desk. The pleasant chill of a rainy afternoon and the soothing scent of petrichor lulled a purr from his throat whilst he typed away at his report. It was rare that the weekend could be so peaceful, but he eagerly embraced the quiet while he could—even the metallic whine of an unoiled door failed to disturb his tranquility.

He paid his uninvited guest no mind as they slipped into his office, even as—after a moment of presumably aimless wandering—they came to settle behind him. They very slowly inched closer until he could feel their soft breaths tickling his ear, a none-too-subtle attempt to draw his attention from what was happening on-screen, but he waited until a frustrated whine baited a smile out of him to relent to their wordless demands. And as he finally lifted his hand to find the cheek of the intruder, they all but melted into his palm, a purr not too unlike his own revving within their chest.

"Don't tell me you're still afraid of thunder," cooed Ilya as he drew his thumb to and fro along the apple of his superior's cheek.

"Am I not allowed to enjoy your company without an ulterior motive?"

"You know your sweet talking doesn't work on me, liar."

The other moved so that their lips rested against the pads of Ilya's fingertips, and he could feel the faintest twitch, as though they were restraining a smile. Only once a delicate hand reached out to tilt the monitor downward and out of sight did he raise his eye to study his terribly spoiled brat of a boss. It was hard to be intimidated by someone who came running to sit upon his lap at every minor inconvenience, you know.

"Why, Captain—" he scolded, albeit rather sweetly, as the other wormed their way between him and his desk; "—don't you think you're a little old to be held?"

The Commander chose to ignore their subordinate's teasing and seated themself upon the very edge of the wood, where they proceeded to wiggle until they found a position comfortable enough to make their behests- much to Ilya's very poorly concealed amusement.

Vaati's mornings were comfortable as they were dull.

Nobility preferred to operate based on rules, regulations, punctuality - things that he enjoyed up until he was faced with the fact that he was no longer allowed to enjoy anything outside of them. You would think earning such a handsome title would grant one with more freedom (though he more so "earned" it through connections than merit), but at least the cage he was confined to in his homelands had a notable amount of wiggle-room. He did try his best to introduce excitement wherever he could, though, whether that be via decorations, vacations, or bringing in questionable company. . . which is why one can only imagine how his eyes lit up upon hearing some particularly exciting news during the daily report.

"There was a brawl this morning, your majesty."

The Lord hummed absently, more absorbed in the feeling of one of the handmaidens pulling a comb through his freshly washed tresses than he was in whatever gossip his squire had to offer. "A bar fight?" he presumed in between soft, almost kittenesque purrs. A very odd sound to come from a behemoth such as himself.

"No, madame- it was the guards."

Vaati propped an eye open at that. He'd never really gotten along with his queen's men himself - they were bitter, humorless, egotistical bastards, and they hated every decision he'd ever made. Which is why, while it was entirely unintentional, that he sounded almost excited as he mused; "Anyone in the infirmary?"
The squire swallowed thickly. Humans and equally fragile creatures were always nervous when facing off with what they presumed to be bloodlust, especially from a beast that could likely crush them like a tin can. Even when one is well-acquainted with the beast itself. "Uh. . . no, sire. B-But the perp has been arrested-"

"For the brawl? That doesn't sound like it was their fault, those brutes will pick a fight with anyone."

"For assault and attempted manslaughter."

The nobleman blinked at his own reflection in the vanity mirror, just in time to witness the sparkle of intrigue that danced across his eyes. There was a following moment of quiet during which even the handmaiden stopped grooming her superior. And, after that moment drifted on by, Vaati let his eyes flutter shut again. "Bring him to the court. I want to see him in person."
He could practically feel the sudden onslaught of anxiousness that wafted from his poor errand boy. "Attempted manslaughter, your highness," the man reiterated, and rather desperately at that. He knew good and well what his lord was getting at, and there was no way on earth he was going to let him bring home another pet - not if he could help it.

"Yes, I heard you."

"As in murder?"

"I'm aware of what manslaughter means, Cato. The order stands."

The little beast heaved one particularly heavy sigh and turned tail lest he end up wringing the demon's neck, stalking off to inform the guards that their catch of the day was going to be released. Most of the staff had gotten used to the nobleman's antics by now - Hell, most of them were there because of his antics. Vagabonds, social pariahs, beggars, thieves, rogues, and the like, all suddenly sitting pretty within castle walls because the nutcase that ran it all plucked them off the streets by the scruff of their necks. Such a gentle soul with such an alarming taste in company.
Vaati dressed in his usual garb and made his way down to the palace courtroom to wait, accompanied by an unusual number of guards. While he wasn't too worried himself, he allowed them to fall in his shadow for their sake; he'd walk into that room alone if they'd let him, especially given that he could very clearly take care of himself, but seeing as they were infinitely more nervous about this whole ordeal than he was, he supposed it was best to just let them pretend that they and their weapons were useful.