Ryslig IC Inbox

[dermondversteckt]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, KRONID. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 018.07.154.55 *** KRONID has joined 018.07.154.55 <ONEMANBAND> Hi. Kronid here. Probably playing music right now, in which case you could find me on the streets if you listen. Otherwise? Leave me a message and I will get right back to you.

Common Network Usernames:
OneManBand - everyday username
Morendo - anon name

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[action forward dated to Feb 14] cw: impending NSFW

[goodolfashionedvillain]

[There comes a polite knock at Kronid's door in the wee hours of the morning. Finally off his shift for the night and with a paper bag cradled in his arm, Vicious waits patiently for an answer. Normally, he would have just let himself in --walls and doors are ultimately meaningless to someone who can choose to not have a form-- but he didn't want to risk dropping the evening's refreshments when he phases through the wall. That's not the tone he wants to start this little visit with!

His new friend had requested his presence tonight, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't spend the entire rest of his shift wondering why and letting his mind get carried away with the possibilities... And Kronid is a bit of a wildcard, so Vicious has learned to be prepared for anything when it comes to him. It's all been in good fun, no matter what they get up to, though.. so he doesn't know why this request already has him antsy.

He glances down at his uniform and sighs, anxiously fussing with the lapel of his vest with his free hand as he waits. Why does spending time with this man make him nervous now? They get along so swimmingly, there's absolutely nothing to worry about.

At least, that's what he's going to keep telling himself.]

[dermondversteckt]

[The date is more or less meaningless to Kronid.

Sure, he knows it's Valentine's day. Of course he knows. Playing sappy songs is easy coin, and it's a great time to catch someone lonely for an easy lay, easy prey, or both. He's not terribly romantic, and frankly, he doesn't see that changing any time soon.

That said...here he is, at home instead of out fucking someone in an alleyway, waiting for company. His dark curls are still damp from showering - it's really become a little bit of a ritual for him when he knows V will be by - when he hears the knock. He isn't nervous, of course. Why should he be? Their relationship is what it is, whatever it is.

This is just another day.

But in spite of himself, he's grinning when he opens the door, ink-stained wings giving a little idle beat. He's dressed down, his usual layers and layers of billowy dark fabric absent in favor of a baggy black button down - sleeves rolled up, unbuttoned midway down his chest, threatening to fall off one shoulder - and some tight gray jeans that leave...very little to the imagination. He's barefoot, as he usually is around the apartment, claws clicking lightly against the hard floors when he takes a step.]

Wasn't expecting for you to knock, Knight. Almost caught me more off guard than when you phase through the door.

Please - come in.

[He wonders what the paper bag is about - but he's not one to talk, is he? Not when he's holding something small behind his back, just out of view.]

[goodolfashionedvillain]

Unfortunately, the only thing I can get through the door is myself. This treat on the other hand...

[He chuckles and wiggles the occupied arm, offering a pleasant smile as he regards the smaller man. He isn't thinking much of the date either, since to him it won't be "tomorrow" until after he sleeps... So it certainly isn't the prospect of a Valentine's Day date that is making him nervous. That feeling well predates the holiday. But he's not worrying about that right now!]

Haven't exactly mastered how to bring things with me, so. I just didn't want to risk it. You know, Shade problems.

[It isn't like V hasn't become acquainted with Kronid's body by now, but it seems that every time he's come over, the man is just a little less dressed than the time before... How curious. V doesn't know if it's intentional and certainly has no intention to find out at this time, but that doesn't mean he's not going to enjoy the view. However, he has to at least pretend that he's not just here to stare and actually enter the apartment. To avoid ogling the goblin, he makes his way to the kitchen and pulls a full bottle of top shelf brandy from the bag to set on the counter.]

You liked it warmed, yeah?

[He already knows the answer, and has already begun the preparations, but figures it's good to ask anyway.

He leans back against the counter as he waits, crossing his legs at the ankle, and resting his palms on the edge of the counter, fully corporeal instead of his usual half-extant presentation. Ever since Kronid started working with him, he's been able to hold a tangible form for much longer, and expressly enjoys using that new ability in his presence... You know, just because. No reason to put all that work to waste! Besides, it feels nice to exist somewhat.]

How's your night been so far?

[dermondversteckt]

[Chuckling a little, the smaller man follows along to the kitchen, watching Vicious as he moves around his space with ease. They've spent plenty of time together in here, after all, in his apartment, talking and...not talking. There's something like normality developing to it, which is...novel. He's not even used to having a space to get used to.

When the shade produces the bottle, his grin broadens a little, lopsided and charming for how jagged it is. Top shelf. His companion is much classier than he is, but...well, he appreciates that, sometimes. It makes for interesting contrast.

Easier to think about that, anyway, than the fact that he's getting to be...known, in a way he hasn't in a very long time.]

Very thoughtful of you. Mulţumesc.

[Kronid hops up onto the counter across from where Vicious is leaning, legs dangling down as he regards the other man. Yes, he's holding quite solid. His work hasn't been for nothing.

The little black clamshell box that had been behind his back is set on his lap, one hand tapping out an idle rhythm upon its lid.]

It's been all right. Hit the street for a little while. Some restringing instruments. Working on a song or two.

More interesting now that you're here, I'm sure.

[goodolfashionedvillain]

E plăcerea mea. It's only polite to bring a gift for your gracious host.

[His "home training" under the billion dollar roof his father put over his head taught him that. As much as he hates the idea of being fancy, he simply can't help himself; it's ingrained. At least now when he can afford the good shit, he buys enough to go around or simply gifts it to someone. Sharing the wealth is much more satisfying than hoarding it.

As Kronid lifts himself up on the counter, Vicious doesn't have a choice but to watch-- he's right in his line of sight. So much for not ogling... At least he can keep his attention on his face. Wait-- no, no, that's difficult right now, too, it turns out. So it's back to the clothing and less focus on the large swath of his companion's flesh visible beneath that clothing. The shirt he's wearing looks familiar, but a black shirt is a black shirt-- at least until he notices the red stitching around the collar. ]

Is that-- [He blinks, furrowing his brow curiously and stepping forward to get a better look. He slides a hand down along the open placket, noting the red thread securing the buttons. The inside of the shirt is incredibly and recognizably soft-- it's the one he was wearing when he arrived in the peninsula. One of the few things he has left from his world.] --my shirt? I've been looking everywhere for this--

[Only now does it occur to him that Kronid is wearing one of his shirts. There's a slight pinkish tinge to the glow around his eyes, but he's far from aware of that. He's busy processing the implications of such a thing. Was this... on purpose? Maybe Kronid didn't remember it was his. Vicious knows he's not the only person to come through this apartment, so perhaps he thought it belonged to someone else. ...Surely.]

--ah. Sorry-- I. Hah. I didn't realize I'd left this here. [With Kronid now sitting up this high, they're at eye-level to one another, something Vicious isn't used to. He freezes, caught in the goblin's icy gaze for just a moment before clearing his throat and taking that step back again towards the counter.]

It's ah. A good look for you, really. [He gestures vaguely in the other man's direction, indicating his entire... self.] The off-the-shoulder look really accentuates your... bone structure.

[Yes. Bone structure. Forgive him, he's just a touch flustered. These implications really have his head spinning. Any time he's had a girl wear his clothes, it's really done it for him and... well, turns out this does too.

Ugh, why is he this easy?]

[dermondversteckt]

[Agh, there's that flutter in his chest again at the Romanian. Before he can try to talk it away, though -

Aha.

He would be lying if he said he hadn't been waiting for Vicious to notice - and so it's with a wicked little grin that he chuckles at the attentions to just what he's wearing. Playfully, he sticks out his tongue between his teeth as the larger man pulls close, runs hands down the garment... only to lick over his fangs when their eyes meet.

...And then Vicious is pulling away, trying to deflect, and the goblin finds himself leaning after him where he sits.

He's in a mood, after all and frankly...that reaction is absolutely fanning the flames.]

You flatter me.

No need to apologize. I found this hanging in my bathroom, and...well. Seeing as I knew I was clean...I thought I would try it on. See what you'd think.

I rather like it. It still smells like you, even.

[Stormy eyes blaze from beneath his dark lashes, and for a moment, he almost forgets what he was doing, looking over at his companion and Thinking -

But he does remember, before he gets too ahead of himself. And he holds out the little black box, almost a little sheepishly.]

But, my Knight, of course I know it's yours.

And...so is this, actually.

[goodolfashionedvillain]

[For just a moment, Vicious appears to short circuit-- a portion of his face and body distorting in monochrome pixels and wavy bars, almost like a degraded VHS tape. Whatever heart palpitation Kronid has managed to give him manifesting in a slight glitch-- interrupting this near-solid projection of himself until he can gather his wits again.

That look-- his eyes, his teeth, that smile, it gets him every time, but somehow even worse when Kronid is draped in his clothes. He didn't think it could be any worse!

Luckily before he has to find a way to talk around his decidedly visible embarrassment, he's being handed a... small box? He blinks owlishly down at the offered case, reaching out to receive it.]

Ah-- huh? This is... For me?

[He cups the case carefully in his hand, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips. He's always been used to giving gifts, not receiving them, so this is... New. He doesn't even know how to react.]

What... what for?

[Not that he thinks for a second that this has anything to do with the holiday, of course... He doesn't wait for the answer before he's started to pry open the box, curious as to what on earth this man could have found for him...]

[dermondversteckt]

[Oh, well, THAT'S fun - he's gotten the man flustered before, but making him shudder like a dated piece of film is a new one, and Kronid is really rather pleased with himself, chuckling low in his chest over it. A pleased sound.

...But then the Shade softens, noticeably, upon taking the box. It's...cute, actually, that little smile. And now it's Kronid's turn to be a little sheepish, the edge receding a measure from his grin.]

Oh - no real reason. I was shopping for instruments in second-hand stores, and...eh, it just put me to mind of you. I...thought you might like it.

[Inside the box is...a folding pocket knife. It's sleek and shiny, the handle inlaid with black and dark grey enamels in a checkered pattern. It has a fair heft to it - and flicking out the blade reveals a nicely hewn edge...and the silhouette of a chess piece etched near the base.

The Goblin fidgets with his necklace of coins as he lets it sink in which chess piece is on it. If one didn't know better, he would actually seem...kind of nervous. His grin twitches at the edges, eyebrows pinched just a little bit at the corners.]

At least, I hope you like it. I sharpened it a bit, even.

Call it a...a thank you, I guess.

For...for that first night when I was a shade. And for not...running away.

[goodolfashionedvillain]

Kronid. You didn't have to do this...

[His tone is somewhere between admonishment and astonishment, but those wide white eyes continue to blink in surprise, staring down at the knife in disbelief. He didn't know what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this.

Sure, this gift may not have been customized with him in mind, but it surely was a fateful finding on Kronid's part, wasn't it? It's one thing to just have seen a very nice knife and thought of him, but one that already had the knight engraved on it? It can't be pure coincidence.

He pulls the piece from the box and sets the box next to his most gracious host, flicking out the blade to
admire the craftsmanship and Kronid's own handiwork on the blade. It's well made, beautifully suited to his own aesthetic, and... well. Holds a meaning that really only the two of them know. He'll treasure it for a lifetime, but he doesn't know what kind of weight those words may hold for someone like Kronid, so he decides... that he will keep it to himself, for now.]

It's beautiful. [Finally, he smiles-- and it's a genuine smile. Not the usual wicked smirk or jagged, toothy Cheshire grin, but one that rounds his cheeks and his eyes crinkle at the corners. It's not a look he wears too often, but... he hasn't had many reasons to be truly happy in such a long time. It feels almost alien to him. It probably looks as alien as it feels, too.]

Thank you, truly. I love it.

[Snapping the blade back into place, he continues to draw his thumb along the grip and over the engraving, studying the way it feels and thinking now of the proper way to thank him for this. Huffing a soft laugh, he shakes his head.]

You know me so well.

[He steps forward again, slipping his arms around the other man's narrow frame, embracing him gently and nuzzling his face in the crook of Kronid's neck with a sigh. He murmurs softly against the exposed flesh there, closing his eyes for a moment.]

Really, it means a lot.

[dermondversteckt]

Ah, well. I wanted to.

[Honestly, he wasn't sure what sort of reaction he expected from the other man. He had the feeling he would like the knife, sure, and aesthetically it was appropriate, but...the way that his face breaks into a smile, soft and rounded and true?

It...catches him off guard. He himself is still smiling, yes, but...it turns a little bemused, a little stunned. Vicious is...so happy about this. This little thing. How little kindness had he been shown? How little grace?]

Of course, my Knight. I-

[And then strong arms are wrapping around him, tenderly, holding onto him, gentle and sincere and so different from the frenetic grasping they had been doing up until this point. For a moment, he freezes a little, a chill passing over his skin, the ghost of something from a long, long, long time ago...but eventually he does wrap his arms around the shade in turn, one hand twining and playing gently up in his long, silvery hair.]

Ma bucur ca iți place, draga.

[The endearment rolls, unchecked, off his tongue - and now it's Kronid's turn to be a little red in the cheeks, if Vicious were to pull back enough to look. From his position against Kronid's neck, he might detect a quickening of his pulse.]

I, ah. I could say the same for you in return. About knowing me.

[But does he? Does he really?

A tear snakes from the corner of his eye before he can wick it away, landing on the crown of Vicious's head.

Shit.]

[goodolfashionedvillain]

[Vicious has been studying up on his Romanian-- still not well enough to speak it casually, of course --but he understands enough to catch his meaning. Which is why he squeezes him just a touch tighter before finally pulling himself away again. Still his hands linger on the other's waist, staying near, but keeping his gaze low as he works up the nerve to look Kronid in the eye again. He's not had many opportunities to show gratitude, and isn't sure if this was the right way to do it, but it's the way that felt the most correct. At least with Kronid, he's mostly sure that he won't be judged for that moment of vulnerability... he can hope, anyway.

He doesn't have much time to second guess himself, though, fighting off his sheepishness to finally regard his companion eye-to-eye again. He catches the redness of the other's cheeks and the single glistening streak lining his cheek and tilts his head, brows knitting in concern. Was he... upset? Was it the wrong move to hug him like this? Lifting a hand to cup the goblin's face, he draws a blackened thumb along the curve of his cheekbone, wiping the trail away with a gentle smile]

What is it...?

[This is... such an odd response. Vicious knew himself to be an emotional person-- he'd never gotten good at suppressing it, no matter how much his father tried to beat it out of him --but he hadn't suspected the thousand year old vampire to be... sentimental. The mere concept of eliciting such an response from him makes his own chest tight, his throat and hands burn-- but he doesn't want to cry. He's happy. Happiness shouldn't bring tears, should it?]

[dermondversteckt]

[What IS it?

Kronid can feel his pulse hammering, still an alien sensation to a man who had been functionally dead for as long as he - his mouth feels a little dry as Vicious has pulled back, is being so gentle, is wiping away his tear and smiling at him.

At him. In his own apartment, after seeing some of his worst. Reaching out. Asking if he's all right. Being concerned.

For him.

He lets out something like a breathless laugh, twitching a shaky little smile. He has to say SOMETHING, has to find a suitable story, the right lie, the right response-

Or you could tell him the truth. Don't you think he deserves that much from you, at least?]

I...I don't know, actually.

That was...the first time someone has held me like that, knowing what they were doing, in....

[Hiw own brows furrow as he thinks. He can say it. It's acceptable. He can work with it if it feels like bearing too much.

His voice comes out, however, a little gentler than he would like it to. Echoes of a dead man.]

...Since I turned.

It felt...different. From everyone else who has fallen for my act.

[He lets out a shuddering sigh he didn't realize he was holding. He has to save face. Recover. His hands slide over Vicious's broad shoulders, thumbs rubbing little circles there in an idle fidget.]

You feel different.

From all of them.

[goodolfashionedvillain]

[And you fell for it, too. Just like the bloody fool you are.

No, that... That can't be what he means. I haven't fallen for anything, he's-- he's being serious. He's being honest.

It can, and it very well may. Are you really that naive? Remember what happened the last time you fell for someone?

Of course he remembers what happened. He's still reeling from the fallout of it all. A part of him has wondered for a while now if he was just trying to get over that with him-- and if he was, was it just for rebound's sake, or was he truly catching feelings for this man...? The question has never been louder or more demanding of an answer than this moment.

But he doesn't want to give an answer, yet. He wants to feel this out, to ensure that he's not... simply hopping into the first pair of arms that reached out to him but... these arms are so warm and inviting, it's terribly difficult to say no. Kronid has done plenty to earn his trust already, as he thinks likewise of himself, and here Kronid is, validating that thought without him even having to ask.

I'm different. I'm different, and for once that's a good thing.

You're pathetic, and he knows it. You really think he hasn't been through a hundred of you?

His inner conflict may be a bit more visible than Kronid's, a furrowing of his brow, the wandering of his eyes, his jaw set tight for a few long moments before he forces himself to relax and shake off the weight of the Darkness' words. He's happy. He doesn't want this moment taken away from him just because his inner critic is a miserable pessimist.]

You are, too...

[He leans forward, sliding his hands up along the goblin's sides and around to his lower back, pulling him forward into another embrace. This time he presses his forehead to the other's, closing his eyes as he speaks.]

No one... has ever treated me like this.

[What about Fearless?

He doesn't want to think about Fearless right now. They're still in a rocky place. Fearless is barely home, anymore. And with good reason... it's not like he should want to spend time with the guy who murdered him twice, no matter what their unspoken relationship status may have been. He can't really blame him for that, but at the same time... Fearless knows what he did. It's-- it's complicated. He doesn't want to think about it!!]

You've been... so good to me. You make me feel good about myself. You aren't afraid of me. You... treat me like a person, and not an inconvenience. Even though we are both monsters, you don't treat me like one. [He huffs a low sort of laugh, shaking his head.]

And I can't tell you what that means to me. Thank you.

[dermondversteckt]

[The signs of struggle on the younger man's face are plain, especially up this close - and Kronid, in spite of himself, is holding his breath a little. It would be easier, right? To get called on his bullshit, for them to laugh it off, drink, go fuck and fall back into the easy pattern they had developed thus far. Easy.

Except...he had bought the knife.

He didn't have to do that. But he had, because he thought it might make Vicious happy.

And why did THAT matter? He's already got him on the hook. Why do more? Why had he taken it another step forward?]

...I....

[His tone wavers as Vicious presses himself against his smaller body again - foreheads pressed together, intimate, trusting. Trusting him. Of course. He had given him no reason not to trust him.

No reason? He saw you so deep in a fit of self-loathing that you crushed someone along with you. You've told him how many people you have murdered. He's seen you trick people, hypnotize them, pull the wool over their eyes.

But he's here, isn't he? He has every reason not to trust you.

He's still here.

You WANT him here.

His own jaw sets, and he sniffles a little, fighting hard against the softer tears that so threaten to fall. His heart feels unbearably heavy, his head is swimming with a high pitched ringing in his ears, and everything Vicious is saying is like-

Well, it's like....]

...I could say the same, my Knight.

[Fuck it. This needs to stop one way or the other.

Moving a hand to the back of the Shade's head, he tilts his own - catching his mouth in a deep, ardent kiss. They have kissed before, during sex, toothy, violent, lustful things.

This kiss...isn't that. It does nothing to make his heart slow, or his grasp loosen. He trembles, just a little.

You're afraid.

Good.]

cw: homophobia ment

[goodolfashionedvillain]

[He hasn't seen the worst of you, yet. You're lying to him. You're lying to both of them.

Please-- please let me have this, just-- just once.

Fine. It's your funeral.

He opens his mouth to speak again but before he can utter a single word, his mouth has become occupied. A soft grunt of surprise escapes him, tapering into a low chuckle of amusement against Kronid's lips. He can safely say he wasn't expecting him to make the next move quite like this. Vicious hadn't thought the vampire to be the most amorous man-- how much interest can a creature like him really have in love after so long? --but this kiss is the closest thing to passion he's felt from him and makes him wonder if he's had it all wrong. Everything up until this moment has just been in good fun and this... This is so much more than fun.

But can he say that? Is he allowed to? Maybe he doesn't have to with words. Instead, he'll simply press deeper into the kiss, lifting one hand to cup the other man's face as the other draws deep black claws through those dark curls.

Dad would kill you for this.

Shut up.

Was Fearless not enough?

Shut up!

There's a low sound of frustration as he pulls back, breaking away to give them both a moment to breathe, and himself a moment to gather his wits again.]

Are you... still wanting that drink? [He chuckles breathlessly, resting both hands on the other man's hips once more.]

cw: hypnotic induction, drinking, it's all downhill from here fellas

[dermondversteckt]

[Yes. This is easier.

Kronid tries to focus on the kiss, focus on the feeling of lips against his, the claws in his hair, the low chuckle humming against him. Sure, this feels... different, it does, but it's grounding in its own way.

And then Vicious, as has happened before in other moments, seems to overthink it. It's a hint of something more normal, more like how they've been. The sheepish, shaky grin becomes something more confident.

Back in familiar territory, even if his body is still shaking a little bit.]

You went to the trouble of bringing it...would be a shame not to enjoy it.

[His fingers start to trace figure eights against the other man's shoulder blades, each in opposite directions, out of sync. Purposely, he breathes low in the Shade's ear, his voice shifting easily into a low drone.]

You've had a long day at work, Knight, and won't it feel good to let that slip away? To relax...and to Stay?

[Gentle. Subtle. A guiding hand to a frame of mind, instead of a firm pull into the undertow.]

[goodolfashionedvillain]

[A shiver runs through him, a wave of static all the way up his spine that blurs his vision and begins to still his mind and body. The grip on his hips loosens, dropping to the counter to keep himself upright-- sometimes he forgets that he has legs again, and that he needs them to stay standing. He chuckles and nods slowly, settling into that tone, listening to his words and allowing that voice wash over him. It's such a beautiful sound, and it has such a good point.]

It would... I want to.

[Vicious groans, his eyelids fluttering, leaning into the sensation of the fingers on his back as another shiver makes its way up his spine. Something about that motion really does something for him, and probably more than Kronid actually intends. But now's not the time to tell him that; they'll fuck that bridge when they get to it.]

[dermondversteckt]

Good...good. Let it all wash away, then. Let my voice carry it. Let it flutter off on the wind as you come back Up.

[He punctuates the command with an abrupt tap of the shoulders - one of the signals he had been using to bring Vicious back to himself after a session.

Grinning his lopsided grin, he runs his hands up to the nape of the Shade's neck, digging fingertips in in a little massage. Playful. Back to easygoing.]

Wouldn't want you dropping a glass, hm? It's getting easier and easier to induct you. I hope that's because you're enjoying it...you certainly seem like you do.

[There's something impish forming in his expression - one can just about see the gears turning.

He's up to something.]

And I definitely enjoy doing it for you.

[goodolfashionedvillain]

[It takes a moment to recognize that he's grounded again, exhaling a sigh of relief once he does. It's amazing how well this works on him, how much it helps pull him out of his own head, especially when he once thought the whole idea was a scam. Now, he swears by it. He's even offered to pay Kronid for it a few times, but they both found a suitable trade in simply enjoying each other's company.

If he were a cat, he would purr. Vicious lingers near for a moment longer, smiling his own crooked smile as he's pet and rubbed, basking in the pride of performing well for him. It's been rare for him to have his poor, neglected ego stroked like this before Kronid came along, and frankly he is living for it. ]

Eheh. That's definitely not the kind of mess I'm looking to clean up tonight, no. [He snickers, finally pulling himself away to prepare those drinks for the both of them. The snifters have long since cooled, and he has to start the process over again, but it doesn't take very long. He chats as he works, occasionally glancing back at the goblin with a knowing look. He can tell that something is going on in that devious mind of his, Vicious just has to wait to find out what.]

You could say that. It's... certainly having some sort of effect on me, that's for sure. You're very good at what you do.

[dermondversteckt]

[No, Kronid wouldn't take payment from Vicious for their sessions. He has, from other people, in the past - but infrequently. He prefers his music to be his source of coin, and as a general rule, he's a pretty shit therapist.

He watches the glasses being prepared, pointedly ignoring whatever memory is knocking at the back of his brain about it. Idly, his hand moves to his necklace, fidgeting with the coins there.]

Thank you. It's taken time and practice... I'm glad it's paid off.

I was thinking...maybe we could have a little fun with it, tonight. See how far we've come with you, exactly.

[His grin is back to it's full, wicked self.]

A little bit of a challenge.

[goodolfashionedvillain]

[He quirks a curious brow as he turns to hand the other man his drink, lifting his own glass to clink in a toast. ...Not to anything in particular, but because it seems appropriate.]

Oh? You have my attention. Do tell.

[That grin does things to him, and by now he knows where that particular look tends to lead. He can't even pretend he's not excited. He lifts the brandy to his lips, taking roughly half the glass in one go. Sure, he knows the proper way to enjoy this beverage, but this is far from proper company. The warm glasses are part of the treat, but he knows both of them would be completely content simply drinking straight from the bottle.]

[dermondversteckt]

Your attention would he the point.

[He takes the glass with a grateful nod, clinking it with a little chuckle.]

Noroc.

[Seeing that Vicious isn't standing on ceremony is nice - drinking nice brandy out of warmed glasses in gulps and swigs has a feeling to it that Kronid rather likes, and he follows suit, making a small appreciative sound for the quality before he continues speaking.]

Simple. I'm just curious how well you could resist induction. Especially if I make it...mm...a little more challenging than usual.

What do you think?

[goodolfashionedvillain]

[Both brows raise this time.]

Resisting induction. Hm. [And down the rest of that glass goes before he's ready for number two-- he doesn't really need the warmth so much as he needs the alcohol right now, so he skips the preparation and simply pours himself another, offering another for Kronid with a wiggle of the bottle.]

Sounds... intriguing.

[He leans back against the counter, peering over his glass as he takes a sip, bright white eyes narrowed in mischief. He loves a good challenge, especially when it's against someone like Kronid. People like him can even make losing fun.]

I'm game.

[dermondversteckt]

[Now that is DEFINITELY Kronid's speed. He holds out his glass for another, body language loosening fully back up. He likes this. These nights, drinking with him.

Wait. No. Focus.

He laughs at the willingness, stormy eyes bright with excitement in turn.]

Good. I won't make it easy for you, either. You can take it.

[His hand playing with his necklace falls into a rhythm. Clink. Clink. Clink.]

Can't you?

[goodolfashionedvillain]

Oh, I do believe I can.

[He smirks, setting the bottle next to Kronid for his ease and moving back to his spot across from him. Crossing one leg over the other, he props himself against the counter and continues to sip on his drink, watching Kronid toy with his coins.]

When do we start?

[The playful glint in his eye indicates that he already knows that it's on, but what's a challenge without a little teasing? Boring, that's what.]