What the hell is this? [Arthur]

Sometimes while working, Gilbert came across pieces that didn't need to be analysed, usually things that had just gotten misplaced. The piece this time was a box of toy soldiers, complete with a tag that mentioned the date and useful information about it's whereabouts. So, after cleaning up the caked on mud, the German found himself walking towards the museum of American History, to drop off the artefact. He didn't venture towards this place often, having no interest in America or its history.

Entering the museum, Gilbert looked around for the first uniform he could find, to drop off the box and get out of there as soon as possible. Who knows what Lovino was getting up to in his absence. The little shit was probably breaking vases and putting all the blame on him.

Spotting a uniform, he walked up to the man, who had strangely hypnotic eyebrows, and shoved the box into his hands. "Hey, this got stuck in with some things in the forensics department, take it back."

Arthur blinked as the man suddenly approached him and shoved a box in his hands, taking half a moment to realise he was actually staff from another museum on the grounds. He blinked, his mouth opening a little, before he turned around and placed the box on a nearbly table. He pulled on a glove and opened it gently, looking into the contents. He looked up. His accent, crisp as ever, rolled out.

"Ah, thank you. I'm not aware how these artefacts got in your hands, but thank you for cleaning them and bringing them back here. It's highly appreciated." He blinked, and took a moment to glance back at the other again.

"I presume you work in one of the other museums? I'm not too familiar with the grounds yet; I'm rather new. Thank you, anyway."

Gilbert had been starting to walk away when the other man started to speak. So much for a clean getaway, but no matter. He turned back around and grinned at the Brit, (his accent made that much clear) deciding that it would be fine to leave Lovino alone for a little while longer, if only out of spite. Besides, this person was new and it would be rude of him to just cast him aside. Especially while he was still unaware of who he was talking to.

After a while, everyone knew who he was, whether it be from personal experience or hearing stories from others and though the attention was nice, he found that some people tried to avoid him. "Ja, I work in Das Museum der Naturgeschichte, in forensics. My name's Gilbert Beilschmidt, but most everyone just calls me awesome, so you should call me that instead," he said, a cocky smirk sprouting on his face.

It was good to convert them while they were still green. Getting the older members of the museum to call him by his self proclaimed nickname took much more effort and usually didn't work.

Arthur seemed to be intent in looking at the contents of the box, slowly picking out one of the toy soldiers and inspecting it. Almost absent-mindedly, he held his hand out to shake the other's, before facing back towards the artefacts again.

"Pleasure to meet you, Gilbert. My name's Arthur Kirkland, and I'm the new Curator here." He nodded. His expression didn't seem to switch at all, his finger stroking slightly along the wooden face of the soldier as he inspected it closely.

"I apologise in advance and I'm not aware of how polished your English is, but I think you might be confusing nounds for verbs. Unfortunately, and especially coming here, my own English is very sensitive to being correct, so if you don't mind, I'll keep with your name. I've only just met you, after all."

The toy was placed down, and he sighed. As he looked up, his emerald eyes flickered up and down the other, as though fully taking in his appearance. They narrowed suddenly, as though concentrating.

"You have a rather stereotypical German accent. It sounds rather more Prussian. I'm assuming you're from East Germany?" He remarked. He place the figure back in the box.

Since the other seemed to be more interested in the toy soldiers than Gilbert's presence, he was tempted to leave. 'If I'm going to be ignored in favour of wood, then there is no point in allowing this guy the honour of staying in my amazing company any longer,' he thought, shaking the Brit's hand with a frown. The new Curator? Briefly he wondered what had happened to the old Curator, but after realizing he had never met them and didn't actually care who they were, he abandoned the thought and went back to listening to the current conversation.

Well, it seemed like Arthur Kirkland was not a man so easily convinced. He found himself disliking the man more and more as he spoke, such a proper gentleman, correcting his English. Someone as awesome as Gilbert had no need to worry about silly things like nouns or verbs or other parts of speech his companion felt the need to correct him on. After all, he was far too busy to worry himself with such trvial matters.

Wait...what was that? Did he say Prussian? He really thought Gilbert sounded Prussian? Well, maybe the Brit wasn't as bad as he first appeared. Anyone had to be a good person if they could tell a Prussian accent apart from a German one. While it wasn't a mistake he usually made, perhaps he had been too hasty in his assumption of this new Curator. "That's a sharp ear you've got there, Kirkland. Not too many people can make that distiction," he said, a slight grin spreading across his features. "You're correct in your assumptions too, I'm originally from East Germany."

Now that he had warmed up to the shorter man, there was something that had been bugging him since he first opened his mouth. It was only amplified by the comment he made on proper English, so he couldn't help but say, "You know? You don't exactly seem like the type of guy who would enjoy American history. I would have probably expected you in somewhere else, like Världshistorien."

(( I didn't know what to talk about with Arthur, buuuh.. D: ))

Arthur shrugged.

"Many people don't decide to make the dinstinction. It's really not that hard if you listen well enough." He nodded. When you were rather good at being observant from time to time, it helped. He'd noticed that there was quite the variety of characters around, even though he really hadn't been around for very long.

At the remark of the museum he was working in, a slight blush proceeded to raise against his cheeks. "Ah, well. Yes. Quite a few people have remarked on that, in fact." He moved to place the toy soldier back in the box. "To be honest, I'm not quite sure. I've heard rather enough of my own country's history to last a lifetime, I'm specialised in North American History also and.. to be honest, I think the managers just thought it was funny to put a Briton in an American museum. It's not as though my life isn't rather ironic as it is."

"Then again, a German fresh-faced from his home country is rather peculiar to be seen in the mists of New York, especially in as such a discreet job in Forsenics."