Azzrael, now settled in the lap of luxury within his room at the Agriatta Mansion, couldn't shake off the sense of unease that lingered after the clash of vibes in the car. The opulence of his surroundings did little to dispel the disconnection he felt with his family.
As he mused over the situation, Ivanov's voice echoed through the room, breaking his contemplation. "Master Azzrael, the family dinner is ready. They eagerly await your presence in the dining hall."
Azzrael, reluctantly tearing himself away from his thoughts, made his way to the grand dining hall. The long table was adorned with fine china and flickering candlelight, setting the stage for a formal affair. The air was thick with tension as Azzrael took his seat, feeling the scrutinizing eyes of his half-sibling, Alistair, upon him.
Alistair, draped in an air of superiority, spared Azzrael nothing but a disdainful glance. "Well, look who decided to join us. It's been years,my dearest and most lovable brother"
Azzrael, keeping his composure, responded evenly, "I'm just here to reconnect, Alistair."
Alistair, with a dismissive wave, continued, "Reconnect? Save it. Your absence spoke louder than words, and I've got better things to do than entertain your sudden interest in family."
The tension in the room thickened as the family dinner progressed. Alistair's negative vibes were palpable, affecting the entire atmosphere. Even the arrival of the lavish dishes did little to ease the discomfort.
When Azzrael reached for a dish, he noticed Alistair's blatant disinterest. "What's wrong, Alistair? Lose your appetite?" he asked, unable to ignore the palpable hostility.
Alistair, with a snide smirk, replied, "Let's just say the sight of you doesn't exactly whet my appetite."
Azzrael, undeterred by Alistair's disdain, decided to channel his inner dramatic flair. With a flourish of his hand and a raised eyebrow, he began, "Oh, Alistair, dear brother, I must say, your hostility is quite the showstopper. Bravo! I didn't realize my return would be the grand finale of the Agriatta drama festival."
Alistair, momentarily thrown off, could only muster a confused expression.
Azzrael, continuing his theatrics, leaned back in his chair with a mock sigh. "I mean, really, is this the warm Agriatta welcome I was expecting? I had envisioned a standing ovation, perhaps a red carpet. Instead, I get your icy glares. Disappointing, truly."
Alistair, attempting to regain composure, stammered, "You... you can't just stroll in here and mock everything!"
Azzrael, with a perfectly executed eye roll, retorted, "Oh, brother, I absolutely can. And I'll do it with style. It's like I'm in a Shakespearean tragedy, only with a touch of Agriatta glamour."
Alistair, caught between frustration and bewilderment, was at a loss for words.
Azzrael, seizing the moment, continued, "But seriously, Alistair, let's not make this a melodrama. I'm here to rebuild, reconnect, and, of course, slay. If you can't handle the theatrics, brother, you're in for a wild ride."
"hmm...I'll have this salad instead , the steak is so f*cking raw. Do you guys have any cooked fried chicken...jollibee...something~"
As Azzrael turned his attention back to the dinner table, the room was left with a lingering sense of drama, with Alistair left in the wake of Azzrael's unapologetic and flamboyant presence. The Agriatta Mansion, now a stage for family dynamics, witnessed a performance that promised both chaos and a touch of glamorous redemption.