"If I were pissing my patron's money away down at the pub," Ienzo reasons, with a practiced talent for breezy persuasion, "I think he might be a little more upset with me than he would if he knew I'd taken a dram of friendly mischief on school grounds... and in the safety of our esteemed professor's offices!" He sneered in mock-jovially, lifting his bottle to the health of old Wilkes and his mam, "Surrounded by carefully curated artifacts to contemplate with our well-lubricated minds."
See? He was quite prepared to justify their thievery as innocently as possible, if landed themselves in a little trouble. Ansem knew he was lonesome this term, would pity them and pardon any serious probations, even if letters found their way home.
They'd gotten away with murder, engaging the doddering old lord's soft side for educating bright boys of terrible misfortune. Ienzo was more than comfortable, taking advantage of that by now.
He listened to Edmund speak of revels and rivers, smirking because the fellow really did sound like a praticed lush. "You worship often, eh?" Ienzo grins, imitating his swirling sip with puckered lips and a rolling tougue. It probably looked a little lewd.
Then he sniggered, and forced another swallow instead of sputtering at hearing Edmund confess to Calvanist doctrines.
"Dangerous thoughts?" He purred, lolling his head rather close to their touching shoulders and watching him through upturned eyes and oddly feathery lashes, coy at all the insinuation. "Aw, I'm sure they're mostly harmless? You only sound like you've entertained one too many gossipy tart's conspiracy theories, Pevensie."
His face falls into it's regular sullen pout, as he contemplates light and liquid through the bottle, and how much he'll need to claw his way through this particular subject.
"What's it worth to you?" Ienzo asks, heavy lidded, slumping himself a little against Edmund's shoulder with a lean of his head that's not unlike a nuzzle "I'm rather young, I'm told? So if you're asking me, a scholar's ready to start or quit studies whenever he's ready." His voice has gone lofty, lilted, toying around in the upper part of his register that he hasn't quite grown out of completely. "The others had endowed research to finish, and Lord Ansem invited us to study here under his scholarship for as long as we wished. It's a very nasty time to be out in the world, you understand?"
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Date: 2017-01-21 07:44 am (UTC)See? He was quite prepared to justify their thievery as innocently as possible, if landed themselves in a little trouble. Ansem knew he was lonesome this term, would pity them and pardon any serious probations, even if letters found their way home.
They'd gotten away with murder, engaging the doddering old lord's soft side for educating bright boys of terrible misfortune. Ienzo was more than comfortable, taking advantage of that by now.
He listened to Edmund speak of revels and rivers, smirking because the fellow really did sound like a praticed lush. "You worship often, eh?" Ienzo grins, imitating his swirling sip with puckered lips and a rolling tougue. It probably looked a little lewd.
Then he sniggered, and forced another swallow instead of sputtering at hearing Edmund confess to Calvanist doctrines.
"Dangerous thoughts?" He purred, lolling his head rather close to their touching shoulders and watching him through upturned eyes and oddly feathery lashes, coy at all the insinuation. "Aw, I'm sure they're mostly harmless? You only sound like you've entertained one too many gossipy tart's conspiracy theories, Pevensie."
His face falls into it's regular sullen pout, as he contemplates light and liquid through the bottle, and how much he'll need to claw his way through this particular subject.
"What's it worth to you?" Ienzo asks, heavy lidded, slumping himself a little against Edmund's shoulder with a lean of his head that's not unlike a nuzzle "I'm rather young, I'm told? So if you're asking me, a scholar's ready to start or quit studies whenever he's ready." His voice has gone lofty, lilted, toying around in the upper part of his register that he hasn't quite grown out of completely. "The others had endowed research to finish, and Lord Ansem invited us to study here under his scholarship for as long as we wished. It's a very nasty time to be out in the world, you understand?"