"...hallo, Stanislav." He smiles, his expression as weary and worn by life as ever but genuinely happy to see the Spy again. It'd been too long.
Stanislav looked up from where he was putting on a leather glove, wincing as the material touched his pink, irritated skin. “Hallo, Karl, I have not seen you in quite some time. I vas beginning to miss that lovely, pale face. Speaking of vhich, you do not look as composed as you usually are. Is something the matter?”
"Oh, life. Ein long string of vun zhing or anozher. Zhat’s all."
He tilts his head to the side curiously, hmming softly, brow furrowing in concern.
"Ah you alright? Zhat looks terribly uncomfortable."
"Believe me, it is, some idiot spilled vodka on me." He gave a small chuckle. "I am not big fan of alcohol, despite vhatever stereotypes are established of my ethnicity… Thankfully it’s all off."
He returned his gaze to the medic, smiling slightly. “Vould you like smoke? Ve can… Talk, if you’d like of course.”
"I vould like zhat."
He takes his pipe out, tossing the other man a pack of tobacco. He’d done the same when they’d first met, though then it’d been to get Stan out of his hair- now, it was simply sharing the goods with a friend.
Tapping some into his pipe, he lights it, taking a few puffs.
"Vhat haff you been up to all zhis time, mein friend?"
"Ah, it feels like you vere vaiting all this time to see me, you even have my favorite brand!" He sang before giving a dark chuckle and placing one in between his lips. At the question of his current state of affairs, he took a moment to think. "Oh nothing out of the usual, just living with fun, new, bitter roommate who is madly in love vith me. I must admit, it is difficult being irresistible man, but such is life vhen being spy." He joked,. "But vhat about you, doktor? I imagine you’ve had great deal going on in your own life, da?’