Drinking on a Monday

That was a new one, and Aleister was briefly quiet in stunned silence. Too handsome? People found him attractive enough, sure, but there was more to attractiveness than just looks. Undoubtedly, anyone who had been trying to get his attention would stop the moment they saw what he hid.

Atreus’ explanation drew a laugh from the tall mage, giving Atreus a small nod in agreement. “Fragile ego’s huh. Suppose I do know. Who would I be to deny such anyway, you seem to know best.” Aleister teased back, a little hum at Atreus’ next words. “Prettier than you? Oh no, not even close, nor has anyone else here proven to best you there.” Had anyone heard and taken offense, they hadn’t shown Al yet.

“Don’t you worry, you’re right.” Lie, truth, his tone didn’t betray him. “Do you ever find yourself wrong, dear Atreus?” He guessed the answer there would be no, too.

Aleister straightened his coat slightly, silk fabric put back into place after bending down as much as he had been. He let Atreus come as close as he liked, unafraid of the prospect of the mask being pulled off. Sure, it’d end the evening right there and then, and it’d be a bummer. But it posed no risk to him, and he himself was the most important. “Perhaps if you keep being pleasant, I’ll invite you to come see those masks then.” The mask smiled ever so slightly, pleased when Atreus stepped away and altered his plans. No mask removals for now.

What a curious young man. Aleisters’ initial plans had obviously been ditched by now, If he had any to begin with. Atreus had done well capturing his attention, and he would keep it that way. “So my tricks thus far haven’t been enough? I see.” Demanding. If he hadn’t realized that about Atreus by now, he would’ve been even slower than a snail on a salt trail. But what would impress this guy?

His gaze briefly wandered over the other party go’ers, searching around for inspiration when he caught sight of a little group further away whispering to one another. He and Atreus were obviously too far away to hear anything they were saying, or were they? The tall mage turned towards Atreus again, only to bend down and reach past him, grabbing a clean napkin from the nearby table. Whoever had been sitting there had just been taking Atreus’ and Aleisters grief.

With the sharp edge of his nails, he pressed a symbol into the fabric. It’d hold for a while, until the fibers would get disturbed again. “Hold onto this,” the tall mage offered, “And listen for that conversation in the back. Tell me what they’re on about.” The enchantment was small, just something to enhance hearing during focus. And really not because Aleister cared about some noble’s conversation.

But Atreus seemed the type to very much care.