[Ah, he adds facial hair and circles it twice, then draws an arrow to connect it to the first note. Yes, this is the ideal planning process.]
'Three for the gleam of a jewel or a smile,' [he says near-automatically, with the lilt of a line of poetry, like it's a line pulled from a set, because it is. He glances up from the notes, the intended quick explanation of that hitching on Viktor doing this thing with his hair again, that he'd noticed before — little things, the things that come together to make the whole picture of Viktor when he thinks about him, like details to put in a book. Hm.]
They — yes. Relatively; they like their gossip and fashion and backstabbing each other whenever it seems the most fun. They have princesses, even.
[Both of whom are degrees of Off, in his humble opinion. Still, it makes sense to Palamedes why something raunchy and full of politics would be set there and not, say, the Sixth or something.
He listens to Viktor, ah... tear down a bunch of literary tropes, delighted all over again; after a moment he puts the pen down on the napkin and slides it a bit to the side, to be more in front of Viktor than himself. Their arms brush and then press ever-so-lightly together; he lets it happen.]
Here; your turn. I agree with everything, for the record.
no subject
'Three for the gleam of a jewel or a smile,' [he says near-automatically, with the lilt of a line of poetry, like it's a line pulled from a set, because it is. He glances up from the notes, the intended quick explanation of that hitching on Viktor doing this thing with his hair again, that he'd noticed before — little things, the things that come together to make the whole picture of Viktor when he thinks about him, like details to put in a book. Hm.]
They — yes. Relatively; they like their gossip and fashion and backstabbing each other whenever it seems the most fun. They have princesses, even.
[Both of whom are degrees of Off, in his humble opinion. Still, it makes sense to Palamedes why something raunchy and full of politics would be set there and not, say, the Sixth or something.
He listens to Viktor, ah... tear down a bunch of literary tropes, delighted all over again; after a moment he puts the pen down on the napkin and slides it a bit to the side, to be more in front of Viktor than himself. Their arms brush and then press ever-so-lightly together; he lets it happen.]
Here; your turn. I agree with everything, for the record.