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[volkarin]

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[volkarin]

So, suffering the full range of consequences of my hubris.

Well, apart from the [ is there a less crude word for this ... ] sex magic.

[wines]

Perhaps you should add it to your repertoire, if you really want the full range.

[volkarin]

[ It occurs to Emmrich only after he's sent his previous message that he realizes that his exploratory efforts with Parisa could easily be considered "sex magic," though he'd argue that sex had only been a part of the magic they'd been conducting as opposed to the backbone of it, but— ]

Having singed my hand upon that flame once already, I'm somewhat loathe to return to that particular study.

[ Which is the most he's alluded to what had happened at the beginning of the previous month. ]

[wines]

[ Now isn't that interesting. ]

Professor. I'd say that I'm shocked and scandalized, but I always knew you had it in you.

[volkarin]

[ hmmm ]

"Always" is a rather long ways to cast back the clock.

[wines]

And here I thought time was quite flexible, in this place.

[volkarin]

[ not as flexible as my ... wait, no ]

I don't suppose you've dabbled?

[wines]

Are you asking whether I've played with fire in the bedroom, Emmrich?

There are certainly ways to bring heat without getting singed.

[volkarin]

Yes, I'm well aware standard intercourse is hardly considered a cold pastime.

But I suppose that serves as an answer in and of itself.

[wines]

I was speaking to actual fire. Bringing a spark to your fingertips, to warm rather than set aflame.

One of my lovers is quite heat-resistant. [ Well, two, but he hasn't done this with Daemon just yet. ] He likes my hands on the edge of burning.

1/2

[volkarin]

[ doing the equivalent of saluting before he dives off of the prow of the ship: ]

Ah. Certainly easier to control than a candle.

[volkarin]

I've mentioned to you that Parisa is a telepath, haven't I?

1/2

[wines]

Is control what we're after with candles? I thought it was the startled gasp when hot wax meets skin.

[wines]

You have, but do say more.

[volkarin]

[ HM. ]

I don't suppose you're free for a spot of tea?

[wines]

For you? Always.

[volkarin]

In that case — meet me at Sol & Scroll, would you? We can find a corner for ourselves to sufficiently catch each other up.

[ NOT an innuendo!!! ]

➡️ 🎬

[wines]

[ Dorian admits to considerable curiosity, at the invitation. He is, at this point, accustomed to Emmrich's gentle rejection of his flirtations, and doesn't take it personally-- so it's a pleasant surprise that they're skirting around something, though Dorian couldn't say what exactly that something is.

Perhaps their tea date will be illuminating, or at the very least stimulating. He arrives fashionably late, after freshening up, still favoring oversized knits with taupe leather in the early spring chill.

Sliding into his seat across from Emmrich, and offering a congenial smile, ]

This is a quaint little spot, isn't it? [ His gaze sweeping the menu, and the jars of herbs covering the counter, ] I don't suppose they have anything harder than tea.

[volkarin]

[ Emmrich is, similarly, dressed as he usually is, a crisp white shirt worn under a burgundy waistcoat, gold accents visible no matter the eye may wander. He's quick to smile back, nodding as Dorian sits.

Strange — he doesn't feel nervous at all. ]

We could always relocate to the pub, or one of the few bars, if that's more to your taste, [ he offers, as he casts a gaze around the shop. ] But I was considering the Earl Grey, myself.

[wines]

[ Dorian waves a hand as he settles back in his chair, crossing an ankle over his knee. ]

No, this will do nicely. It just means I get to pick the venue for our second date.