But the door doesn't shut. Yet. Kostos also doesn't move. He's busy, first with taking the bottle using a firm gimme tug and then with opening it. The door's future may depend on what it smells like.
[Lea releases the bottle readily, after a hint of resistance. Its contents probably smell fine, unless a) the Chamberlain has taken to passive-aggressive beverage gestures, or b) someone with a very weird craving requested it specifically. Fingers crossed he didn't steal the salted black liquorice of liquors.]
Well, he vigorously instructed me to do a few unpleasant things, called me a prick, and, strangely, accused me of not knowing you at all. Which is true, I suppose. But we're going to remedy that, aren't we?
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But the door doesn't shut. Yet. Kostos also doesn't move. He's busy, first with taking the bottle using a firm gimme tug and then with opening it. The door's future may depend on what it smells like.
In the meantime— ]
How angry was he?
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Well, he vigorously instructed me to do a few unpleasant things, called me a prick, and, strangely, accused me of not knowing you at all. Which is true, I suppose. But we're going to remedy that, aren't we?