"Not since last spring term." He admits bashfully with a wag of his head, a smile crossing his usually-severe face, which seems both boyish and a bit forlorn. Quaint? Was it? "(Not on my own.)" Ienzo added, fidgeting with the wig pin fashioned into a sturdier pick. "I'd hoped he'd hadn't moved around too much?"
"If there's any truth to be found, we could be here all evening." Because there's certainly quite a bit stacked up all about here for hard evidence to get utterly lost in the shuffle. Idly, he wonders if old Wilkes had kept any of his comrades' final essays in one of the filing cabinets.
Edmund let himself be pranked with a lot less entertainingly furious reactions as Even often had. But it was good to know his ease with it, not that he'd ever taken his new schoolmate for entirely humorless?
He unstoppers the second bottle with a fierce blink and flaring of his nostrils- the burn of alcohol wasn't something he'd ever quite learned to enjoy, and Wilkes' homebrew was stronger stuff by far than tavern ale or hard cider, deceptively sweet with a searing, medicinal burn down the throat. Braig used to take it straight, from a flask, and came here to replenish it often enough that Wilkes had to have known about the casual theft, somehow? Yet he'd never changed the hiding spot, or let it run dry. Ienzo had only ever sipped on it diluted before, tipped helpfully into his tea when his nerves were run down and seasonal sniffles threatened to leave him bedridden.
Not yet so convivial as to rally up a toast, or clink their bottles in cheers, he's the first to set his lips to the shrub and try a swallow, his mouth is full and his nostrils on fire by the time that Edmund's mentioning rumors of Illuminati, and because he has something on the tip of his tongue to say he hurries it, gulping and then doubling forward with a hand clapped over his mouth, muffling a ragged coughing fit.
So much for seeming shrewd and impressive, worldly wise.
With watering eyes ad warming cheeks, Ienzo's lungs finally manage to accept that the swallow had indeed gone down the right pipe after all.
"Oh, well certainly he has all the strange odds and ends, curio obsessions, that might lead one to believe he might belong to some fraternal order," he croaks, leaning forward to intimate in a wilder-eyed whisper. "(he's even got a weird ivory phallus around here somewhere- I've seen it, a big well-polished thing with bollocks attached! Dilan thinks he nicked it from a tribe in equatorial Africa.)" Sitting back, Ienzo leans his shoulder against the cabinet door. "The way you brought it up, it sounded like someone found convincing proof.in his paperwork."
He squints after a moment, tongue till swirling round his mouth to contemplate the flavor left in his mouth- despite its strength, the aftertaste was delightful, a little bit candied and herbal. "...but the professor doesn't exactly seem the type to fraternize much, does he?"
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Date: 2017-01-17 05:32 am (UTC)"If there's any truth to be found, we could be here all evening." Because there's certainly quite a bit stacked up all about here for hard evidence to get utterly lost in the shuffle. Idly, he wonders if old Wilkes had kept any of his comrades' final essays in one of the filing cabinets.
Edmund let himself be pranked with a lot less entertainingly furious reactions as Even often had. But it was good to know his ease with it, not that he'd ever taken his new schoolmate for entirely humorless?
He unstoppers the second bottle with a fierce blink and flaring of his nostrils- the burn of alcohol wasn't something he'd ever quite learned to enjoy, and Wilkes' homebrew was stronger stuff by far than tavern ale or hard cider, deceptively sweet with a searing, medicinal burn down the throat. Braig used to take it straight, from a flask, and came here to replenish it often enough that Wilkes had to have known about the casual theft, somehow? Yet he'd never changed the hiding spot, or let it run dry. Ienzo had only ever sipped on it diluted before, tipped helpfully into his tea when his nerves were run down and seasonal sniffles threatened to leave him bedridden.
Not yet so convivial as to rally up a toast, or clink their bottles in cheers, he's the first to set his lips to the shrub and try a swallow, his mouth is full and his nostrils on fire by the time that Edmund's mentioning rumors of Illuminati, and because he has something on the tip of his tongue to say he hurries it, gulping and then doubling forward with a hand clapped over his mouth, muffling a ragged coughing fit.
So much for seeming shrewd and impressive, worldly wise.
With watering eyes ad warming cheeks, Ienzo's lungs finally manage to accept that the swallow had indeed gone down the right pipe after all.
"Oh, well certainly he has all the strange odds and ends, curio obsessions, that might lead one to believe he might belong to some fraternal order," he croaks, leaning forward to intimate in a wilder-eyed whisper. "(he's even got a weird ivory phallus around here somewhere- I've seen it, a big well-polished thing with bollocks attached! Dilan thinks he nicked it from a tribe in equatorial Africa.)" Sitting back, Ienzo leans his shoulder against the cabinet door. "The way you brought it up, it sounded like someone found convincing proof.in his paperwork."
He squints after a moment, tongue till swirling round his mouth to contemplate the flavor left in his mouth- despite its strength, the aftertaste was delightful, a little bit candied and herbal. "...but the professor doesn't exactly seem the type to fraternize much, does he?"