RP:Light a Candle, Cast a Shadow

Part of the Dissonance Theory Arc

This is a Warrior's Guild RP.

Summary: Quintessa and Kasyr discuss matters of Project Dissonance Theory, Vailkrin's security, and things pertaining to their personal lives.

Vigilanti Semper, Venturil

Quintessa moves slowly about her laboratory, checking up on the different distillations and solvents she had been creating out of the ash remnants of the thralls. Even in death she could study what was left behind by her enemies, figuring out how they reacted to heat, cold, and acid. Even if there was no effect, such a discovery would be relevant, denoting a specific resistance to such elements. So far she had discovered that Xicotl’s thralls were vulnerable to natural magic, hinting at their harmonic resonance within the weave of magic. Unknowing Quintessa had crippled their own power against them, and her blunder was made clear with her most recent experiments. Even so she would look for other solutions, mundane solutions that the soldiers of the Warrior’s Guild could wield. This, she believes, is the answer to end this conflict once and for all. A silver arrow to slay the beast. As Quintessa is writing down this newest revelation, the thrall currently strapped down on her specially designed autopsy table began to thrash around and struggle against its constraints, catching the changeling’s attention. She turns slowly, setting down her quill in exchange for a glass syringe. “Oh my, and you were being so well behaved up until now. This simply won’t do…”

Kasyrs' entrance to the room had been relatively discreet, the swordsman having taken the utmost care in nudging the door open and then closed, if only so he could observe the proceedings. He had, after all, authorized the changeling to use the full extent of her craft to extract results from their prisoners- regardless of whatever murmurings such an order would cause amongst the rank and file. By extension, it also meant he needed to take responsibiity for it- to witness those terrible works in progress. Still, it's not long before the thrall grows agitated- and Quintessa's response. "I've heard of people talking to plants- et I suppose they aren't so far removed, enfin?" There's a humour there, but the Kensais tone is deliberate- his focus resting on the bound thrall in case niceties need to be curtailed. Not that Kasyr looks all that poised to be of use, given he's lacking his signature trenchcoat or battle apparel. No- given he's fresh out of a guild meeting with a perspective employer, his garb falls more along the lines of a carmine dress vest, and a black under shirt, with suitably dressy pants. The inetntion was 'consummate professional Guide Leader' - though the execution seems a bit off, given his discomfort. "Are they normally well behaved? Or have you been finding ways to trigger or allay their hostility?" Or was well-behaved code for 'Very Unconscious'/in Shock. Whichever.

Quintessa‘s blue and hazel eyes flash up to look at Kasyr from across the room, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I’ve never heard any complaints about my ‘bedside manner’ before, no matter what my patient might be made out of.” The changeling idly strokes her sharp nails against the cheek of the thrall, the restraints holding his head keeping her safe from harm. Without much more delay the warlock steadies the thrall’s neck and plunges the needle into it, injecting whatever fluid contained within. “It comes in waves,” Quintessa continues, raising up from the creature and moving back to one of her tables to put her syringe away. “When Krice brought it by it was in a dormant state and it had been suggested that the thralls operate on a ‘hive mind’, losing cognitive function when separated from the swarm. This hypothesis seems to not be accurate however, since the thrall goes through cycles of activity and inactivity.” By the time Quintessa has explained the thrall has gone dormant as a light stream of foam drips from its mouth. “An emulsion of salt and vinegar is all it takes to drive them in this catatonic state when injected directly into the jugular.” The changeling gives a wary smile to the kensai, “If only handling the hostile intentions of our dear Krice was just as simple.”

Kasyr affords the changeling a wry smile in response to her comment, before he more closely scrutinizes her work with the thrall. It's keenly fascinating, really- to see it's aggression begin to peak- if only for it to be placated by, "...Who would have thought they'd secretly be vulnerable to bar food." There's a pause there, before he can't help but ask, "Do you need to feed, ou water them, quoi-ce-soit?" The comment about Krice is heeded, especially given his role as their ...sample delivery service, but the Kensai needs a few moments to properly respond. "You know- until he'd begun voicing his animosity for you, I would have never taken him for being so . . . Hot-blooded. It actually has me second guessing his capacity to be professional, at times. Still, he's an asset. A good one. I'm just concerned that when the overgrown shubbery es out of the way, he'll be rekindling that grievance and coming after you." There's a pause, and the Kensai adds, "Oh- right. I've been meaning to deliver a notification to Mathollak, to pass on to everyone else- but I believe we should refrain from using our root Vegetable slash gods name. Deitys seem to thrive off awe, worship, et respect- et while it may amount to little, I'd rather we avoid providing it any and all invocations of it's title/name/quoi-ce-soit." There's a nod to noone in particular there, followed by the Kensai procuring a small notepad to make good of what he'd just said. "Subterrain Potato Monster? Angry Shrub? Suggestions?"

Quintessa || A light laughter escapes from Quintessa when Kasyr compares her concoction to bar food, something she had thought about already. “Or salad dressing- Turns out salt and vinegar interferes with the thralls inner functions, like a plant, predictably. It’ll take about 10 to 15 minutes before it can purge it from its system completely. It won’t kill them but it’ll keep them pliant enough for further experiments… They don’t seem to be too keen on eating- unless you count my face. It’s been trying to take a bite out of me for days.” Quintessa draws silent when the conversation returns to krice, and the changeling lets out a helpless sigh before moving over to her desk and moving a couple of chairs out for them to sit. “I fully believe Krice will come for my head when this is all said and done. Given what I did to him and the Eternal Tree I figure this feeling is completely justified, but if he thinks it will be as easy as last time to defeat me he’s mistaken.” Quintessa leans back in her seat and hangs her arms over the back, one leg crossing over the other. “So, speaking its name gives it power? The only issue with that is whatever we call it will inevitably become a new title- unless we create a mockery of it. T’locix, the Diminutive, One Who Is Dust and Decay, Destroyable By All. Weak. Pathetic.” The warlock grins, showing off her sharp teeth. “As a past follower of beings who fancy themselves gods I have to say this one was the most unimpressive.”

Kasyr hadn't thought of salad dressing, but that certainly allows for a brand new train of -very- stupid thoughts. Nothing like heroically conjuring up caesar dressing to confront a deitys army. "Interesting enough, en fait- on both accounts. So there's no real way to starve it's armies, or siege it, au moins." Interesting, but ultimately bad news. So it goes. As for Krice, "Well- I'd hope as much. I believe you -did- promise me aid with Vailkrin, in the same breath that I offered you the same. I'd be hard pressed to call in that favor if you rolled over for our brooding hero." That's right. He went and said it. "Anyways- as for the title- I can't be certain it's the same case for it, but it -has- been a reoccuring case for a number of divine entities that awe, respect and any minor form of worship can be a source of strenngth. Hence why providing it something -ridiculous- seemed appropriate. ...Really, it's the same reason why those puppet shows I find star Vurmin and Thwackarash." It's hard to find focus groups for committing blasphemy against homicidal gods- but it is possible. "Something to troubleshoot on, in any case. But I generally prefer short and catchy so it can enter common parlance for the soldiers." The kensai scratches at his chin, in a gesture both pensive, and meant to feel out just how many days its been since he last shaved. "I also still need to figure out how we're going to be figuring out a clients et funding once this es done. Especially since I haven't been able to be the most forthcoming about what we're fighting." Given- leaking what's going on is one of those 'apt to cause fear, potentially feed the problem, and even feasibly kickstart new waves of opportunistic cultists. Yay.

Quintessa nods along until Kasyr brings up Vailkrin, and the changeling moves both feet to the floor as his words cause her to snap to attention. “O-of course! As always I stand ready to serve the Realm of Vailkrin as her shield and as her countess. Vacant or not I swore an oath to the crown and I won’t let the famous ‘Silver Haired Enigma’ add me to his list of kills. Vailkrin needs me, especially now that Shishi has been getting targeted by a domestic terrorist- A student from the Necromancer’s Guild, no less…” She sighs, letting the subject of puppet shows bring her mood up a bit. “Ah, ol’ Vurmin and Thwackarash. Well, I’ll have to take your word on it- Gods and deities and things like that have always been a bore to me… unless they have something to offer of course.” She gives the kensai a knowing wink. “As for funding this army we could always sell the underground wealth Lionel made us save as artifacts. Lots of gold tablets and the like that I’ve already translated. I think he was planning on giving them back to the Requital, those tribal elves that attacked us underground, but I believe our endeavours are more important. Can’t save the world if our troops starve, that's just being pragmatic after all.”

Kasyr can't help but squint a bit at the changeling, the sharp contrast in her demeanour causing him to squint. The hesitance in her speech starting does little to allay his concerns, either- especially when she makes mention of Shishi's plight. "Pardon? You might want to take that from the top. Et, uh, maybe take a seat?" The kensai glances around himself for a moment, before pulling a pair of stools over- so he can plunk on one, and pat the other one. "I'm fairly sure your pet project won't run away in the meantime." Admittedly, he -is- glad that she's actually aware of his ongoing pet project. Read: Serialized Blasphemous Punch & Judy shows. But, there's more pressing matters. "I'm abundantly familiar, cherie. Though, you might have the right of it. Less the divine dealings- more the artifacts. Provided we can catalogue the information they have, we could see about discreetly auctioning some of them off to collectors. Whet an appetite for relics of a lost civilization- and stoke an interest in funding expeditions into ....cavernous ruins where they might be found." *Cough* "Plant Tunnels." *Cough* "Wouldn't even need to part with them all in that case, et we could slowly provide some as 'discoveries' to help maintain the interest." ...And there's nothing preventing them from tracking who purchases what and passing on those details to the requital. Just, peak pragmatism things. "But, finances aside, you were saying?"

Quintessa exhales sharply, her eyes drifting away for a moment as she fights back the guilt she was feeling. “It’s Shishi. He and this undead named Ernest- you must have heard of him by now, have been in this feud for months now. As Provectus Malus I have a responsibility to the members of my guild, my students, so I let it go. I figured that going up against Shishi every now and then would be good practice for him. Help hone his natural killing ability. I fear now my actions were negligent; Ernest has moved on from targeting just Shishi to threatening the lives of his two children- One of whom, Larelynn, is one of my apprentices. Like it or not, Ernest has made this very personal for me and I must finally address their feud. It threatens the strength and security of Vailkrin as a whole.” Quintessa motions over to a crate in the corner. “I have cataloged all the information held within the tablets, I think I had discussed it some time ago at one of those dreadful guild meetings- it’s been so long I scarcely remember. I also have a book detailing further information- a compendium written by the last group who failed to resist X- za- Zigzag plant thing.” Quintessa nearly slipped the name she was meant not to anymore, but she caught herself. Mostly. “I could easily let some artifacts tickle to collectors- spin some elaborate tales, build interest, create false demand. Normal merchant behavior. Best case scenario someone with the Adventurer's Guild will get sent down there and thin some of the thralls out for us while getting paid by one of these collectors. We’ll make gold -and- get free labor out of it.”

Kasyr is weirdly fascinated by the change in Quintessa's demeanour- observing the weight of responsibility, both personal and professional as it etches lines into her face, and echoes in her aura. It wasn't comfortable, really, to see her like this- but it's made all the worse when she elaborates- both on the perperator, and their final choice of target. "I'm familiar with him. I believe we've all been made abundantly familiar with him." The Kensai reaches up, one calico ear flicking away from a tuft of tousled hair- if only so he can filch a carefully stashed smoke. Better than, then the telltale sign of a carton in one of the thing vest pockets. "I'm not sure if Shishi ever mentioned it, but he was amongst my entourage when I was more...central to Vailkrin. He's under my protection- it was part of my agreement with him." There's a pause, as the wordsman snaps his fingers in front of the cigarettes end, "You're looking to bury Ernest the moment he's not playing caretaker to Odh, correcte?" He let's the question hang in the air for a few long moments, before tilting his head off to the side, peering about the lab again. It was weird to consider just how long it had taken to convert what had been Lionel's hub into something a little more monstrous. And the ruthless mercantile antics they were planning was just more icing on that cake. "That seems about right, enfin. We keep the wheels turning, the lanterns lit- et save the day in the end. Regardless of the cost." That last sentiment leaves him grimacing, a reminder of what was still to come.

Quintessa would have stopped Kasyr from smoking in her laboratory under normal circumstances, but given the bomb she just dropped in his lap she let it go, perhaps another act of negligence in a long line of negligent actions. “Shishi and I have talked about you before, perhaps a bit too much…” Quintessa can feel the heat in her cheeks burn as the memory of oversharing with the Blue Demon resurfaces, of the changeling drunkenly confessing that her childhood dream was to be Kasyr’s sire, to be part of his Coterie. Pretending to be of Larewen’s brood did nothing to alleviate the complicated emotions of longing and apprehension that bubbled up inside of her. Worst part was she knew she could not hide these feelings from Kasyr. “He didn’t mention he was under your protection but given your shared endeavors I could assume as much.” Mismatched eyes slowly look up to stare into his, taking a moment of silence to inhale and steady herself. “A part of me wants Ernest dead- both for his actions against Shishi’ and for kidnapping Archmage Kerrigan.” She confesses this desire, her gaze drifting away as she rests her chin against the back of her hand, “But I can’t help but imagine that’s how Krice would react and I find myself disliking the idea more and more. On the other hand I cannot allow this to go unchecked. I will capture him- rip his soul from Odhranos’ body, and put him somewhere where he can’t disrupt my interests. If Ernest decides he wants to co-exist after that then we can negotiate then. That’s far more than he deserves.”

Kasyr can't help but flash a boyish grin and a wink at Tessa, seemingly intent on exarcerbating how her recollections were already leaving her squirming, "Good things, I hope? ...Though I have to wonder what his thoughts are on moi. Most of our dealings were professional." There's a pause, the Kensai casually flicking a few ashes to the side of himself before he takes another puff. "I'm not entirely surprised that being under my protection would have slipped his mind. He es able to take care of himself, et it's not often I feel the need to intercede on a colleagues behalf." Coterie, Coven- He'd allowed them so much free reign, and where were they all? His head tilts up, a ring of smoke exhaled, if only so it can slowly distort during it's ascent. "-Why- is Ernest doing what he's doing? I'd be remiss in allowing him to roam free if he promised to be a perpetual thorn in Vailkrins side." What drives a man in threatening children, given the typical ripple effect of that sort of action. "I'd be less concerned about Krice in that moment- You'd be half likely to be able to incense him to the cause, if we simply had Shishi -hire- the warriors guild, and make mention of Children being threatened." There's another pause here, the Kensais gaze flickering back down towards Tessa, "Do you think you could capture him, non-lethally? Do you think negotiation is even on the table? We'd need to know his design et his goals." ...And that was a bit hard to fathom, with someone whose business card seemed to allude to little more than professional villainous strategist.

Quintessa feels herself shirking down into her seat the more Kasyr exacerbated her embarrassment, the shade of her face turning a brighter red. “I-I mean, I think I told him we were intimate a few times but I didn’t go into detail- you already know you’re good at -that- you don’t need me to tell you- Not that Karasu isn’t good at it too- Oh Elazul’s Bite…” Quintessa pulls her fringe down to hide her eyes from him, her frame of confidence completely shattered. “Why am I talking about this- Ahem-” She clears her throat and straightens up, “I’m not sure what motivates Ernest. I think Shishi was the one that killed him but that should have no bearing on his desires now. Normally an undead remembers nothing from their former life- they are just an animated husk. The soul of the deceased left long ago but in Ernest’s case? He’s different. A unique variant. It’s almost as if the sheer urge to exact revenge on Shishi is what animated his mummified body to begin with but I won't know for sure unless I can do some experiments on him. I fear negotiation may very well be off the table but at least I can gain a new lab rat.”

Kasyr does his best to refrain from any obvious signs of humour, beyond the irrespressible broadening of his grin, "I meant, more about my comportment outside of the bedroom- though I'm certainly flattered it's not far from your mind." There's a playful brow wiggle, before he props an elbow up onto the adjacent desk and leans his head on it. " Is Karasu doing well? Between dissapearances et dilemmas, there were a number of lessons I never quite got around to." The kensai pauses, and can't help but add, "Mind out of the gutter, Madamoiselle." Playful, but also- almost a little bothered. How many of the interactions between himself and the demi-feline had been strained due to his proximity to Tessa. He doesn't think long on it, however- The changelings history lesson helping to provide more context. "I've met a few undead driven by Grudges, or willpower- et a ghost beside. So, this doesn't quite sound outside the range of possible. Especially if he was a necromancer -prior- to his ...departure from the mortal coil. Who knows what kind of failsafes he had." The question also serves to harken the Kensais next question, "Though, how many do we have? I believe Lanlan stated time was of the essence. The trappings of what I was are apparently becoming troublesome to contain, ou quelque chose?"

Quintessa grins back sheepishly, trying to stay on topic this time. “Shishi is an aloof man. He just mentioned that you two went way back and I took it as a vote of confidence. Mind you this was during my first Titan’s of Winter Tournament. I was starstruck by the Blue Demon and I asked him about lots of other things- He was kinda upset to learn that you weren’t a vampire anymore but if what Lanlan told me in his letters is accurate then I have a plan to fix all that.” Quintessa’s smile turns genuine when Kasyr asks about Karasu, and she nods her head in affirmation. “She’s well. She recovered from the injuries gained during her exorcism quickly and she is no longer plagued by the whispers of Mhad’xlyn… We are even thinking about taking the next step in our relationship.” Quintessa pauses to reminisce on everything the three of them had been through in the last three years and how far she had watched Kasyr and Karasu drift apart. It was hard to imagine those two apprentices competing for Senpai Kasyr’s attention when she looked back, a giggle lifting from her chest when she recalled the question ‘who is cuter, Quintessa or me?’. Her eyes refocus on the kensai and she shrugs, not knowing the origin of Ernest personally. “I don’t know enough about Ernest to answer that. I figured he was a marksman or something in his past life given the rare hand-crossbows he wields, but I could be wrong. Obviously I have much more to study when it comes to fully understanding the undead.” She gives him a cheeky smile, “Vampires were always my expertise.”

Kasyr nods along as Quintessa provides a bit more context about the discussion, though he can't help the slight look of surprise that slips out when Shishi's discomfort about his state as a vampire cropped up. "A number of people have been upset on that front." Vexar being deprived of a target to vent righteous indignation on was one such instance. "I still don't know what crawled up that vampires ass and died- to make him so keenly angered by my existence." There's a pause, before he clarifies, "Vexar, I mean. I suppose I'll get to find out once we get this process underway. Since I'm more than confidant I can leave myself in your expert hands." There's little more to add on the subject of Ernest that doesn't end in violence, so the swordsman instead focuses more on news of Karasu, "Congratulations, cherie. So does this mean you've settled down entirely?" He pauses, in thought, before he finds himself adding, "And will that impact your ties to the city, long term. You've offered your fealty to me in a few ways in past- and I wonder if you ever discussed those plans with her- especially given some of the, " Uhhh. ". . . The plans you'd shared in regards to your aspirations and ambitions should I take the throne anew." Yeah, the changeling is likely never going to leave down that impassioned speech involving blood princesses and other odds and ends.

Quintessa cannot help but smirk in spite of herself and of the aspirations she had declared to him before. “Being your ‘blood princess’ you mean? As I recall I wanted Karasu to be in that arrangement as well but it isn’t my place to offer up her mortality. I’m not even sure if I can be affected by the Curse of the Dark Immortals; Larewen couldn’t turn me, but Larewen is not a Vampire Revenant. Perhaps you can achieve what she could not.” The changeling idly bites her bottom lip as she imagines this potential future. “I do not plan on dying- of old age or otherwise. Vakmatharas will never have me, and this… being your sire, gives me an opportunity to escape this fate. Maybe in a hundred years I too will transform into a revenant and further secure our bloodline’s supremacy but I will have to wait until we reach that bridge before I decide to cross it or not. I want to share my life with Karasu and if this is not something she can tolerate then I might have to reconsider everything… Everything but my devotion to Vailkrin. No matter what- be I a changeling, a vampire, or a fully fledged night hag makes no difference. Vailkrin is my homeland and I will always protect it. This is as close to ‘settling down’ I can ever promise anyone.”

Kasyr wiggles his cigarette between his fingers, watch as the ember begins to run dangerously low. There's something weirdly reassuring about the sense of warmth against his fingers, "I recall. And it seems you recall my comment, as well. I think it -es- important to find out where she stands, in regards to your mortality, et the machinations I'd be apt to pull you into, so long as you chose to bear the title of Vailkrins shield." There's a gravity to his expression as he finally rises from his feet- moving over to the bound thrall so he can snuff out his smoke on it's eye. Salad Dressing Sedative or no- it's not fond of that bit of treatment, if it's abrupt thrashing is any indication. "I'd rather not end up with her as an enemy. Or even on different sides. And just knowing where she stands will help me to decide to what extent I -can- involve you in the cities politics." Even despite the cruelty of his action, there's a peculiar sense of discomfort- and it's that very quantifiably human element that forces him to continue. "I do not want to cause her harm, et I fear that once I have my fangs and Throne back- I'll grow harsher." The Demi-feline had once been poised to fight him, while he sat in a Larket prison. And even recently, his decision to pull Tessa into his Deicidal designs- "Part of why I was hoping I could impart a few more lessons to her, in case we became enemies later." A stupid sense of sentimentality. "Anyways. I suppose we ought to leave things here. Unless there's something else you feel the need to add."

Quintessa inhales slowly and she nods her head, knowing what Kasyr was saying was a truth she was avoiding. A conversation she had been perhaps afraid to have with her feline lover. “Before I officially ask her to wed me I will be sure of her feelings toward Vailkrin because my future's there with or without her. I have my sights on becoming the Master of the Necromancer’s Guild and thus I will always be tied to the Black Spire. My roots run as deep as the oldest trees in the Dark Forest and to uproot me would kill me. If Karasu cannot understand my loyalty to Vailkrin then I’m afraid she’s not the person who I thought she was. That would be like me asking her to betray Xalious and the Mage’s Guild; They are her family. She grew up within the walls of that tower- I have faith in her that she’ll know why I feel the way I do.” When Kasyr speaks of him becoming more harsh when his vampirism is returned to him, Quintessa's heart skips a beat, a ping of excitement threatening to ignite the natural bloodlust that was always just under the surface of her seemingly peaceful exterior. Watching as he puts his cigarette out on the thralls eye only causes this feeling to grow. “Gods why do you do this to me…” The tingling bloodlust was now accompanied by a more carnal desire, a normal combination for Quintessa. Brushing her hair out of her eyes she gives him a devious smirk. “I’ve followed your lead ever since I was a green spellblade, I see no reason I should change that when you reclaim the throne. I’ve flown on the backs of dragons, exterminated sapient dinosaurs, pulled your half melted ass of a Drow Matron’s manor, and fought against some idiot cultists who thought that their personal brand of insanity was the One True Insanity that would lead Xalious to a new age, all while following your lead. I trust you, Kasyr Azakhaer, and I believe in your vision for Vailkrin’s future.” Quintessa relaxes in her seat after her monologue, feeling a bit embarrassed about how lame it sounded out loud to her. “And no… I have nothing more to discuss, nothing pressing anyway. We can reconvene in the future to talk about your revenant essence and how I can rebound it to your soul- but this can only be done in my Vailkrin laboratories.”

Kasyr feels a certain sense of relief when Quintessa acknowledges his concerns- if only because it meant the likelihood of a confrontation between his students seemed just a touch more distant. "I appreciate you taking this seriously." He'd say more- but, admittedly, the sheer swiftness in which her mood changes isn't something he fails to notice- his blood quickening along hers with the fresh influx of lust, bloody or otherwise. "Old habits die hard. Et you do precipitate a bit of . . . impulsiveness on my part." Seemingly the backdrop of the thrashing thrall does little to disconcert him- the swordsman maintaining a languid pace as he steps away from it and over to the changeling. And while she might find some degree of embarassment at her speech, the Kensai, for his part- is relieved by the unswerving reliability she's espoused time and time again. It's with a small flourish he tilts forward, one of her hands taken so he can press a kiss to the back of it, "Enchantee que j'en ai la chance de travailler avec vous, encore." He slowly straightens back up, a hand moving to brush through his hair, "I do look forward to seeing you again. We have a lot of work to do, but I feel it'll be a satisfying journey. At the very least, interesting, as ever."

Quintessa watches as Kasyr gets closer, frozen in her attempt to keep her own feelings in check. ‘Don’t do it,’ she thinks to herself, ‘Don’t do it because I won’t be able to say no.’ The kensai takes her hand and she allows him to place a kiss upon it, an innocent enough action that somehow only inflames the subdued passion she was holding inside. “Of course, mon ami,” Quintessa responds to him with a tiny smile, “I have always loved working with you- Now get out. Stop distracting me. I have work to do.” The smile becomes a smirk to show she was kidding. “I’ll see you soon.”

Kasyr responds to the smirk in kind, trying his best -not- to focus too hard on the emotions simmering between them. It's not quite a success, either- given he finds he can't quite look away in that moment. Still, "As much as I do keenly enjoy distracting you. . ." Here he pauses from rising up, holding her gaze for few intent moment. "I shouldn't hog the entirety of your evening. Not when we likely have a long night ahead of us when we next convene." It's on that note that he finishes straightening up, and begins to make his way towards the laboratory's exit. "A bientot, Cherie. Et I appreciate everything you've done."