Of all the things he might've expected to see upon crossing the threshold into the other room, dinner was not terribly high on the list. Erskine paused just past the doorway and stared for what was probably an inappropriate amount of time, a mixture of confusion and uncertainty in his expression.

If only because it gave him something to do that wasn't gawking, and because following orders was so much easier than making decisions for himself these days, Ravel complied with Bakura's request to wash up at the sink. There was no getting the smell of ash or smoke out of his clothes but he did the best he could with his shaking hands, then splashed water on his face.

"I don't... I don't get it."