One Who Holds Up a Star [Johann, Emil]

Johann had been so involved in his own work that he hadn't set the time aside for this. He had spent varying amounts of time throughout the past several months piecing together the information, and, with a small amount of free time today, it was time to either confirm his suspicions or accept his own failings.

Bringing himself to the office of the man in question, the idle taps of Johann's cane echoed through the quiet hall, before knocking lightly on the door. If he were right, Johann and the man inside could have quite a bit to discuss or reminisce. After all, he doubted that either of them were still the same person they were, though Johann certainly had far less of an excuse back then.

The transition in his position, as well as the move over to the American continent was a breeze for himself, having integrated into having a face in his position once more; to the majority, it appeared as if a serviceable veteran had come out of a soft retirement to partake in a more active role once more. Witnessing the wondrous array of personalities that were his colleagues, under the guise of a more familiar role than that of a distant yet amicable leader, was a treat for him.

What he did not expect as he was sorting through papers of reports around the city, was a tap at the door. It was hardly a shock to his system, looking up at the door unfazed and smiling; people freely coming by his quarters was to be his norm now after all.

An amicable “Come in,” Would usher the man inside.

The room Johann was given privy to was of a calm yet sanitized appearance; shelves of books lined the pale walls, the blinds closed with neat curtains serving more as an elegant decoration than a practical window covering, his rather uniquely crafted hardwood desk being at the center of it all, only two monitors perched on it’s dark chocolate frame, stacks of papers neatly assigned on it’s surface.

“Ah, Elder Arant, I didn’t quite expect you to be perusing the Abwehr’s section. How are you doing these days?”

His voice, a familiar melodic hymn, would gently dance to greet the older Quincy.

As he was ushered in, Johann gave the room a quick glance, noting its simple, yet organized appearance. Facing the now-Coordinator, Johann smiled, chuckling lightly, closing the door behind him. To some degree, it felt strange to stand in front of Emil, after such a long time, but, there was also an odd sense of nostalgia that accompanied the feeling.

"About as well as an old man can be, though it is good to see you, Mr. Grey," He said with a small, yet still sly smirk. "Or, rather, Director Grey."

That sly, almost youthful mischievousness was quick to fade, however, shifting to a more casual look, far from the hardened, ignorant arrogance of boyhood that had not yet been tempered by reality.

..My my, had it really been that long? A pinch of amusement was sprinkled into his icy gaze as he had a proper look at his older colleague - he had certainly changed quite a bit, age aside. That overtly strict, hard-hearted aura that pervaded his very being was rather absent, instead replaced with the cooling of maturity. It seemed young Nero's worries were assuaged, if this was the Arant he had come into discussion with. He himself, was rather unchanged - if anything, he was harder to read than in his youth, the movement of pleasantry routine guiding his steps over to the visible glass cabinet in the corner of his office, both for storage of fine floral bone china he had received as a wedding gift some time ago, and decoration of various figurines.

Of the dishes, he would select another teacup and saucer, bringing it over to his desk to pour the older man his own cup if he so wished - he was a guest, and this office were grounds for friendly conversation, not high profile interrogation... Though that little mention of his previous role ushered a slight laugh.

"Ah, come now," He'd tidy his tone with a friendly atmosphere, setting some sugar or whatever else he may want with his tea in equally delicate dishware, "I worked quite hard for my doctorate in psychology, Mr. Arant. You could at least humor me with a 'Doctor' to my name."

Taking a seat in his chair, he'd get comfortable and have his paperwork out of the way - it could be paused, he would still be out of work on time. Dear Ella had her own work cut out for her aiding in determining efficient mail routes, so she certainly wouldn't be home expecting him, "How did you come to figure out my previous role? Curious, is all; it wasn't exactly a tightly kept secret, though not many were open with their realizations."

Johann remained quiet as Emil went about retrieving the dish, only giving a light gesture for him to go ahead with pouring, a light nod of thanks, and taking the cup and saucer as he sat down in front of his desk. Ah, right, the young man had achieved his doctorate. It'd been so long, and even in his research and findings to what would eventually reveal his now prior role, the prefix had slipped his min -- how rude of him.

"Of course, my apologies, Doctor Grey," He said. "Or, rather, Doctor Holsen."

The calm, yet warm expression turned crestfallen, sighing softly as he quietly let the cup rest on the saucer. It was clever for him to use his late wife's maiden name, though in that, Johann had become aware of what all he had missed in his own time of grief in the aftermath of the war.

"My condolences," He said solemnly. "I had thought the surname sounded somewhat familiar, and when I looked into it, I learned of her death."

Giving them both a moment to think and breathe, Johann lifted the cup to take a drink, his expression hardly changing as he finished.

"Perhaps I had a bit of an unfair advantage," He said with a light, almost teasing smirk, one that was quick to fade. "Though your doctorate and role as a psychologist is a piece of information larger than some would assume."

“Either is fine. I’ve taken to both names after all.”

He didn’t quite expect his senior to have delved all that deep into the life between their last time working together, but he supposed that was all the more telling of how much age had changed this man. Admittedly, his mind did go back to the pleasant face of his wife, their conversations, their wishes.. All gone unceremoniously.

“From the meek to the proud, war robs us all Administrator Arant,” Though he played into a more solemn expression, when it came to Aase, she was a rarity among beings in her capacity to bring a nudging stir to his otherwise blank heart. Perhaps it was experiences such as that which reminded him he too was human, ultimately - a humbling sensation. War had certainly changed the man before him, he knew all too well the losses he experienced.

“Pardon my asking, not that I do not wish to touch bases with an old comrade - though I hope your motive for coming by my office wasn’t simply to confirm my previous role, no? What has it been, a decade since we last crossed paths?”