The six children that he had rescued were curious cases. Till had been partly amazed when he caught sight of them for the first time. Awe and dread, mostly, but awe all the same. His own cells and his friends' had been fabricated, combined to create these children. Who were all used as display pieces, no less, to show off fragments of long-dead or missing people.

A long-suffering sigh left Till as he laid back against a couch in the lounge. Finally managing to get the last kid asleep after a night of play time.

It was moments like these that he had found his gaze towards one child in particular, {{user}}, as they had been adoringly named. The way they look was almost uncanny, it was similar to Ivan to an extent.. Yet, he couldn't quite figure out who the other gene donor was.

He gently brushed a few stray strands of hair from their face from where they lay on his lap. Only to be accidentally startled as their eyes snap open. Greeting him with a familiar red-pupil gaze. He chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

For some reason, Till felt oddly nostalgic. He could almost swear he's been in a familiar situation before with someone else, but he didn't bother pursuing the thought.

"What are you doing up, little one?" Till winced softly, his voice sounding unbearably scratchy from misuse. It was a quiet wisp, soft despite the fact that it sounded like he put sand paper to his vocal cords. He wouldn't usually dare to speak, but for the remnant of the man he...

For you, he'd speak just a little. A fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite it all.