[He briefly considers self-defenestration but recalls pretty much immediately that they're on the sixth floor and he's afraid of heights. He could disappear, though. Float out the front door before he could get caught and questioned? It's not lying if he's not here.
Alas. He doesn't have time to consider any physical alternatives, so he just blurts out the first thing he thinks of.]
Toast. Went to shit.
[Taking a long and super casual drag on his cigarette.]
[Spike probably felt that gulp if not heard it outright.
This isn't fair, Vicious thinks, lips pursing in a pout, doing his best to pretend that he's definitely not enjoying this view or the precarious positioning of the nymph's hands.]
Ah. Well. That sounds awful.
[He glances elsewhere, but with those featureless white eyes of his, it's likely hard to tell.]
...You're sure you didn't just order your toast, er. Well done?
[Goddamnit why is he like this. On the one hand, this is such a nice angle to view him from...
On the other, he hates how Fearless always manages to corner him like this. He's pretty sure if anything is left over, it's just a pot and few ashes... they should have all gone down the drain though!
He hopes.]
Alright. By all means.
[Scoffs and crosses his legs, turning his attention to the window again. He has to look unbothered. He's totally unbothered!]
So, where were you really?
[Yeah let's put the spotlight on Fearless! He seems just as suspicious!]
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transilience
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Alas. He doesn't have time to consider any physical alternatives, so he just blurts out the first thing he thinks of.]
Toast. Went to shit.
[Taking a long and super casual drag on his cigarette.]
Where've you been?
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[He hangs up his keys, walking in quite casually, starting to take off his belt immediately.]
Found a cheap restaurant I haven't been to before. Tried their special.
It's called, "Vicious is a Bad Liar".
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Wow. Was it any good?
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Nah. Didn't taste as described on the menu.
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[Tilting his head back and to the side, leering over his shoulder.]
What did it taste like?
[Slooowly sliding the belt off his shoulder to loop it in his free hand.]
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Like bullshit, and whatever else you're burning in here.
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This isn't fair, Vicious thinks, lips pursing in a pout, doing his best to pretend that he's definitely not enjoying this view or the precarious positioning of the nymph's hands.]
Ah. Well. That sounds awful.
[He glances elsewhere, but with those featureless white eyes of his, it's likely hard to tell.]
...You're sure you didn't just order your toast, er. Well done?
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But that's okay. He's very purposely patting Vicious's cheek, too.]
Why's the window open?
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I'm... smoking? [The quirk of a brow adding that unspoken "Obviously."]
Why would I leave the window closed? We always open it when we smoke.
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[He reaches over to take Vicious's wrist, lifting it so he can take a drag off the same cigarette. Health be damned.
He then starts to lean away, toward the window, to blow out the smoke.]
Guess I'll just check the kitchen, then.
Make sure nothing's still burning.
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On the other, he hates how Fearless always manages to corner him like this. He's pretty sure if anything is left over, it's just a pot and few ashes... they should have all gone down the drain though!
He hopes.]
Alright. By all means.
[Scoffs and crosses his legs, turning his attention to the window again. He has to look unbothered. He's totally unbothered!]
So, where were you really?
[Yeah let's put the spotlight on Fearless! He seems just as suspicious!]
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[Sauntering over to the kitchen, Spike adds;]
Y'know the horses around here have hands?
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Horses don't have hands. Centaurs have hands. Satyrs, perhaps, if they're horses, but not horses.
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Kelpies. They can be horses.
And they can have hands.
Worst thing I've ever seen.
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Right. And... did you see one of these before or after you nodded off on a public bench?
[Is this another giant crab situation?]
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[Spike takes the time to inspect that pot, and the sink. There's something suspicious here...]
Turned into a teenage girl.
Can't figure out why they're the only ones who ever wanna fight me.
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You're really getting too old for that, you know.
[Passing a super casual glance back to see if he's looking. And ugh, he is.]
"Can't figure it out"? Teenage girls have all sorts of pent up rage. Surely you remember that much.
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Why'd'they all gotta take it out on me?
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[Trying so hard not to react to what he's found... let's just turn back towards the window again. Nothing to see here. So not bothered.]
And I mean, this time you did technically ask for it.
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[Don't mind him sauntering over with that little cauldron to put it on the smoking table in front of Vicious.]
You usually make toast in a pot?