He rolls his eyes as he takes that glass back, sipping from it. Good enough by his standards. A few moments of silence follow as he debates his words, before he finally just sighs and waves his free hand.
"It is not a work experiment, nor is there any particular reasoning behind it-- but neither could I call something like this a gift without knowing it would work."
Just imagine if he had, and it had turned out absolutely horribly. He won't have it.
Or maybe not so shocking, given Hades’ penchant for carefully balancing out his own curiosity— amongst other things, to say the least.
“But good, I’d hate to let anyone in on our...private arrangement.” Spoken as he sips again from that initial glass, already slipping down to sit opposite to his far more severe companion, chilled light catching in narrow strips across the stony flooring at their feet.
The final, minuscule addition to that thought added just a beat later, ever so casually:
"It shall remain private enough, so long as you insist," he answers with a shrug, a wave of his free hand. It hardly bothers him, keeping it quiet; frankly, it's no one else's business.
He takes a moment for a sip or two of his glass before he asks, one brow arched:
Astarion’s chuckle is thin, albeit both smooth and amused besides.
“She was the second to catch on to my— shall we say, affliction.” The word, despite his tirelessly elegant tone, is laced with an unmistakable current of contempt. “The first being Fenris, though he never found himself compelled to ask about the details.”
Wysteria, on the other hand, asks about everything.
"You are hardly obligated to inform her of all your arrangements as a result, you realize," he says dryly, over the rim of his glass. Just because she knows doesn't mean she must know everything. "Unless you simply desire to?"
"Oh, gods no." He scoffs sharply, almost recoiling from the notion and nearly spilling his glass in the process— only just recovering it at the very last second.
"But much as I hate to admit it, the irritating creature does remarkably decent research, and the truth is...."
He stops there, frowning across the lip of his glass, letting the sentiment fester for a beat. "I don't really know what I am anymore since stepping through the Fade: its alterations might have more consequences than the ones I've already discovered— and much as I love surprises, I don't love the ones that could easily get me killed, or sickened— or worse."
Val Chevin had been proof enough in its own way, of precisely how dangerous the unexpected could be.
“A matter of necessity. The woman knows this world like very few others do— natives included.”
A happy confession that is not, but the wine, warm in his throat and sweet with the bitter richness of magic-laced iron, takes the edge off his present train of thought.
He slips closer to Hades, resting his hip against the desk instead of maintaining that nominal distance.
“….have you done much work with her before? Being part of the same department, that is.”
He allows Astarion to close the distance easily enough- not reaching out to him, leaving that a rarer thing as he is often wont to do, but not withdrawing either. It's grown more comfortable, over time, just letting him do as he pleases.
"Not much more than what you are already aware of," he answers with a slight shrug. "Answered her initial survey with a few corrections, and I have paid mind to what she broadcasts, but I would not say I have often worked with her directly."
no subject
He rolls his eyes as he takes that glass back, sipping from it. Good enough by his standards. A few moments of silence follow as he debates his words, before he finally just sighs and waves his free hand.
"It is not a work experiment, nor is there any particular reasoning behind it-- but neither could I call something like this a gift without knowing it would work."
Just imagine if he had, and it had turned out absolutely horribly. He won't have it.
no subject
Or maybe not so shocking, given Hades’ penchant for carefully balancing out his own curiosity— amongst other things, to say the least.
“But good, I’d hate to let anyone in on our...private arrangement.” Spoken as he sips again from that initial glass, already slipping down to sit opposite to his far more severe companion, chilled light catching in narrow strips across the stony flooring at their feet.
The final, minuscule addition to that thought added just a beat later, ever so casually:
“Aside from Wysteria, that is.”
no subject
He takes a moment for a sip or two of his glass before he asks, one brow arched:
"Why her, in particular?"
no subject
“She was the second to catch on to my— shall we say, affliction.” The word, despite his tirelessly elegant tone, is laced with an unmistakable current of contempt. “The first being Fenris, though he never found himself compelled to ask about the details.”
Wysteria, on the other hand, asks about everything.
Always.
no subject
no subject
"But much as I hate to admit it, the irritating creature does remarkably decent research, and the truth is...."
He stops there, frowning across the lip of his glass, letting the sentiment fester for a beat. "I don't really know what I am anymore since stepping through the Fade: its alterations might have more consequences than the ones I've already discovered— and much as I love surprises, I don't love the ones that could easily get me killed, or sickened— or worse."
Val Chevin had been proof enough in its own way, of precisely how dangerous the unexpected could be.
no subject
He's hardly unfamiliar with that sort of arrangement, after all, idly swirling the wine in his glass as he considers.
"And I do suppose she has proved sharp enough not to be disregarded. In that sense, you certainly could do worse."
no subject
A happy confession that is not, but the wine, warm in his throat and sweet with the bitter richness of magic-laced iron, takes the edge off his present train of thought.
He slips closer to Hades, resting his hip against the desk instead of maintaining that nominal distance.
“….have you done much work with her before? Being part of the same department, that is.”
no subject
"Not much more than what you are already aware of," he answers with a slight shrug. "Answered her initial survey with a few corrections, and I have paid mind to what she broadcasts, but I would not say I have often worked with her directly."