Oh. I- appreciate your consideration. I'll be over shortly, in that case.
[It was very much not something he was expecting from Neal, and so when he does come along he's surprised to find a door equipped to his height now, and when he ducks inside (more from the habit he's rapidly developed on the ship than intent), he's surprised to see the tall ceilings - but pleased as well, as a smile lights up his face.
He's got a satchel dangling from one arm, human-sized and thus comically small on him, with his grimoire inside.]
Thank you again for your time, Mr Caffrey. Hopefully this pairing won't be unnecessarily long for either of us.
[He gestures for Stolas to come in, leading the way through the screened-in porch that shows a fake view of his front yard. The rest of the house-cabin has had its ceilings raised, too, the proportions of the rooms changing slightly to match. Neal takes them to the little sitting room with its Italian villa styling.
It's strangely funny to see the satchel, to know there's a magic book inside, given how tiny it is on Stolas. Counterintuitive, in a way.]
Please make yourself at home. Would you like tea, coffee, something stronger? I've got some wine from home, and I picked some up in port.
[He glances at the folder on the coffee table, then up (so far up...) at Stolas.] I haven't read it. I don't plan to without your permission.
[Stolas's eyes do land on his file as he spots it on the sitting room table, and his eyes don't leave it until he's addressed directly about refreshments, even as he rests his satchel primly in his lap like a purse.]
O-oh, er. [He offers an awkward smile.] Just- coffee would be fine, thank you. Most narcotics have a reduced effects on demons, just so you know, but I do like the taste.
[And he glances back at the file again.] I... didn't think that you had, actually. But it's quite alright if you do.
[He ducks into the adjacent kitchen and starts the water for a proper pour-over, waiting to answer until he's back in the sitting room and, y'know, sitting, while the water heats.]
Would you like to read it first? Make sure you're comfortable with my knowing what's in there?
The problem is there's a large part of him that's tempted to try and burn it, despite himself.
"I... I suppose?" Though he does pick it up, flicking through it curiously - it'll only take him a minute, at most, to read the slim file - but he's not sure what Neal expects him to say. It's not like his life isn't already a public affair to begin with. "I don't exactly make a point to hide things, you know. If you have any questions all you need do is ask. And if my file can provide them instead, then that's perfectly adequate."
"I'm going to point out something that you might not have really realized yet, given your position: this isn't hell."
He gestures at the file in Stolas's hands. "Prince or not, right now, I don't know anything about you. Nothing I haven't gleaned in conversation or from the network."
Stolas has, for better or worse, acquired an actual private life.
There's a melancholy twinge to his smile there, as he closes the file primly between his hands.
"My position rather dictates the opposite, actually. Just because it's not literal doesn't mean it's not hell regardless."
He slides the file back onto the table. "You have my permission to read my file," he says calmly, a gentle but firmer reiteration of the point. "And I shall answer any questions you have regarding it, or myself, to the best of my ability."
"All right. If you're genuinely comfortable with it. I wasn't, when I came here. I hated having a file, hated, god hated so much that someone who wasn't me controlled that much information about my life. I was... secretive. Protective of who I used to be. It kept me safe for a long time, and the idea of that safety being pulled away without my permission--well."
He shrugs. "When my warden saw how uncomfortable I was with it, he promised not to read it until I was ready. It meant... a lot. More than he still realizes, I think. I wanted to make sure I gave you the same option."
"Mr Caffrey," he says, with a slight edge of Polite (Upper Class) Disapproval. "If we are to make any progress as a pairing and graduate me sooner than later, it behooves us both to make sure you have as much information as readily available to you. You have my file. I implore you to make use of it."
The sooner he graduates, the sooner he doesn't have to worry about his feelings and he can go back to protecting Octavia from the lot in life he had being thrust upon her.
The Polite (Upper Class) Disapproval elicits absolutely no reaction. "Stolas, respectfully, this fucked up system is a little more complicated than that, and I want us to be partners in making it work for you. I'm explaining my logic, that's all."
He gets up as the kettle starts to sing. "Cream or sugar?"
His eyes stay on the file, though, his hands with no other purpose toying with the satchel and pulling out the grimoire to trace the sigil on its cover.
"And I've explained mine. I see no reason to limit your information based on my feelings on the matter."
His sour expression comes with an owlish chitter of annoyance under his breath, that makes his neck feathers visibly ruffle behind the high collar of his cloak.
"I am perfectly capable of putting my feelings aside on matters of great enough important, Mr Caffrey. They're not relevant here. We can do what needs to be done."
He glances down at the file again, and scowls. "And that wasn't even what I came here to discuss to begin with - I was looking to negotiate the return of my powers."
"I would like to know what your feelings are before they get put aside."
He bears a tray back, two perfect black pour-overs in thick (oversized in Stolas's case) mugs. "But you're right, there's no rush on that discussion. As for the return of your powers--"
He sets the tray down, nudges it toward Stolas just a little, and sits down to pick up his own coffee.
"--would you be comfortable with my warden device giving me an alert when you use them in a significant way? If you're in trouble I'd like to make sure I'm aware."
He's still perfectly happy (he'll tolerate it if he has to) with Neal reading his file, but if he refuses then he can't exactly argue.
"That would be acceptable," he says with a slight incline of his head as he lifts his mug. "I certainly understand the precaution - I have a number of powers that can be used to cause immediate and direct harm, even if I would have extremely little reason to actually use them here." He wraps both hands around the mug, enjoying the warmth to steady himself. "For example, my true demon form is quite inherently dangerous, and could probably inspire panic in others if they saw it with no prior warning. I can turn people to stone, I could certainly use my powers to teleport people into compromised positions, such as beyond the nets over the side of the ship."
It's all said very calmly and casually - simple ideas off the top of his head, with no threat behind them.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[It was very much not something he was expecting from Neal, and so when he does come along he's surprised to find a door equipped to his height now, and when he ducks inside (more from the habit he's rapidly developed on the ship than intent), he's surprised to see the tall ceilings - but pleased as well, as a smile lights up his face.
He's got a satchel dangling from one arm, human-sized and thus comically small on him, with his grimoire inside.]
Thank you again for your time, Mr Caffrey. Hopefully this pairing won't be unnecessarily long for either of us.
no subject
[He gestures for Stolas to come in, leading the way through the screened-in porch that shows a fake view of his front yard. The rest of the house-cabin has had its ceilings raised, too, the proportions of the rooms changing slightly to match. Neal takes them to the little sitting room with its Italian villa styling.
It's strangely funny to see the satchel, to know there's a magic book inside, given how tiny it is on Stolas. Counterintuitive, in a way.]
Please make yourself at home. Would you like tea, coffee, something stronger? I've got some wine from home, and I picked some up in port.
[He glances at the folder on the coffee table, then up (so far up...) at Stolas.] I haven't read it. I don't plan to without your permission.
no subject
O-oh, er. [He offers an awkward smile.] Just- coffee would be fine, thank you. Most narcotics have a reduced effects on demons, just so you know, but I do like the taste.
[And he glances back at the file again.] I... didn't think that you had, actually. But it's quite alright if you do.
no subject
Would you like to read it first? Make sure you're comfortable with my knowing what's in there?
no subject
"I... I suppose?" Though he does pick it up, flicking through it curiously - it'll only take him a minute, at most, to read the slim file - but he's not sure what Neal expects him to say. It's not like his life isn't already a public affair to begin with. "I don't exactly make a point to hide things, you know. If you have any questions all you need do is ask. And if my file can provide them instead, then that's perfectly adequate."
no subject
"I'm going to point out something that you might not have really realized yet, given your position: this isn't hell."
He gestures at the file in Stolas's hands. "Prince or not, right now, I don't know anything about you. Nothing I haven't gleaned in conversation or from the network."
Stolas has, for better or worse, acquired an actual private life.
no subject
"My position rather dictates the opposite, actually. Just because it's not literal doesn't mean it's not hell regardless."
He slides the file back onto the table. "You have my permission to read my file," he says calmly, a gentle but firmer reiteration of the point. "And I shall answer any questions you have regarding it, or myself, to the best of my ability."
no subject
He shrugs. "When my warden saw how uncomfortable I was with it, he promised not to read it until I was ready. It meant... a lot. More than he still realizes, I think. I wanted to make sure I gave you the same option."
no subject
The sooner he graduates, the sooner he doesn't have to worry about his feelings and he can go back to protecting Octavia from the lot in life he had being thrust upon her.
no subject
He gets up as the kettle starts to sing. "Cream or sugar?"
no subject
His eyes stay on the file, though, his hands with no other purpose toying with the satchel and pulling out the grimoire to trace the sigil on its cover.
"And I've explained mine. I see no reason to limit your information based on my feelings on the matter."
no subject
no subject
"I am perfectly capable of putting my feelings aside on matters of great enough important, Mr Caffrey. They're not relevant here. We can do what needs to be done."
He glances down at the file again, and scowls. "And that wasn't even what I came here to discuss to begin with - I was looking to negotiate the return of my powers."
no subject
He bears a tray back, two perfect black pour-overs in thick (oversized in Stolas's case) mugs. "But you're right, there's no rush on that discussion. As for the return of your powers--"
He sets the tray down, nudges it toward Stolas just a little, and sits down to pick up his own coffee.
"--would you be comfortable with my warden device giving me an alert when you use them in a significant way? If you're in trouble I'd like to make sure I'm aware."
no subject
"That would be acceptable," he says with a slight incline of his head as he lifts his mug. "I certainly understand the precaution - I have a number of powers that can be used to cause immediate and direct harm, even if I would have extremely little reason to actually use them here." He wraps both hands around the mug, enjoying the warmth to steady himself. "For example, my true demon form is quite inherently dangerous, and could probably inspire panic in others if they saw it with no prior warning. I can turn people to stone, I could certainly use my powers to teleport people into compromised positions, such as beyond the nets over the side of the ship."
It's all said very calmly and casually - simple ideas off the top of his head, with no threat behind them.