[ He smiles as if Qetzi made a charming joke, continuing lightly as if taking a less fraught conversational path. He has no intention of keeping it less fraught, naturally. ]
You aren't in want of some company, from time to time?
[ This question is directed between Haran and Qetzi, so presumably it's to both of them. ]
[ For the first time, she turns a look of sourness on Brandon as intense as the ones she graces upon Haran. She wants her sisters back. She wants to see her father and her brothers, both beyond the Hill but kept from her by the feckless animal that is her cousin. If she goes to see her father, Haran will kill him. If her father comes to see her, Haran will kill her.
She radiates hate for the question and says nothing. ]
[ He meets the look with blank watchfulness, just like his near lack of reaction to her pointed correction of his terminology when they first met in the kitchen. The detachment of it is not necessarily better than the childish glee Haran takes in needling her, yet it does make his inquiries strangely medical. Prodding sore areas to diagnose the injury.
The gift of her family is one that will have to wait, perhaps indefinitely. No sense in trying to raise the Morrisons when he has no idea where their remains are, what state they're in, if they'd treat him with any courtesy for taking the trouble if he did manage it. And, most pressingly, when Haran is right there, waiting for him to do something like that.
Brandon sips some more of his drink, letting his gaze move again from Qetzi back to the only other person here who actually wants conversation. ]
What do you do with your time, then, Master Morrison?
[ This far along in the dinner, his politeness is gaining a hint of brittleness which contains his audible expectation he will not in any sense be delighted. He's here, though. He signed up for this. And Qetzi could use a break, if he's still following his balancing directives. ]
[ What a double act these two can be, Brandon reflects, keeping his own sourness to a thin, fully concealed ribbon in the back of his throat. It's almost a shame they don't get along.
No one seems to be eating at this point, and he follows suit, nursing along the last of his drink as he stores away their exchange and each nonverbal quirk to it. ]
And what does Tavor like?
[ Gifts, endless gifts. It's beginning to be something of a chore. ]
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[ A snide little aside, but she's finally begun to eat, the comment lacks all venom or real challenge. ]
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You aren't in want of some company, from time to time?
[ This question is directed between Haran and Qetzi, so presumably it's to both of them. ]
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Company rarely interests me. No doubt you fought for your right to have my interest, wizard. You should be proud.
[ Can't say the same for Qetzi, even if Brandon is desperately fighting for it too. ]
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She radiates hate for the question and says nothing. ]
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The gift of her family is one that will have to wait, perhaps indefinitely. No sense in trying to raise the Morrisons when he has no idea where their remains are, what state they're in, if they'd treat him with any courtesy for taking the trouble if he did manage it. And, most pressingly, when Haran is right there, waiting for him to do something like that.
Brandon sips some more of his drink, letting his gaze move again from Qetzi back to the only other person here who actually wants conversation. ]
What do you do with your time, then, Master Morrison?
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[ Another piece goes into his mouth and he chews, amused with the thought. ]
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[ This far along in the dinner, his politeness is gaining a hint of brittleness which contains his audible expectation he will not in any sense be delighted. He's here, though. He signed up for this. And Qetzi could use a break, if he's still following his balancing directives. ]
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[ His smile is wicked, if subdued for an absolute child, turning his attention to Qetzi'ah. ]
Tell Tavor I would have the wizard come to the basement with me. Perhaps tomorrow.
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Yes, alright.
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No one seems to be eating at this point, and he follows suit, nursing along the last of his drink as he stores away their exchange and each nonverbal quirk to it. ]
And what does Tavor like?
[ Gifts, endless gifts. It's beginning to be something of a chore. ]
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Tormenting his guests. He gets to do it plenty enough, don't you concern yourself with gifts for him.
[ He is the master of the dungeon, only because his family was much too disgusted by his existence to really allow him anything else. ]
He is not the one I want you to meet.
[ Rather one of the monsters his cousin keeps. ]
Thank you for this wonderful meal, Qetzi. I can see the wizard appreciated it as much as I did.