[ Emet-Selch does not lie to him, but rarely does he readily provide whole and transparent truths. It is something Viktor has grown accustomed to - he hardly thinks himself clever enough to suss out what Emet-Selch wants to keep hidden, anyway. And so, Viktor is left with a simple decision: trust or worry himself sick about what might could be. And, really, he's far too busy for that second option.
So, he trusts. He trusts that Hades will be safe. That the most eminent Emet-Selch will call his hero if he faces real danger. That he will not tread a trecherous path alone. He also suspects that Hades would subject himself to immense torment if it meant sparing Viktor real danger, real despair. Which is horrendously silly of him - Viktor is made to face danger, to carry despair. ]
Well- just- [ he shrugs. ] do not- do not break your own heart to spare mine. 'Tis a fraught thing you research, I know. I do not want you to face what you discover alone. [ But he trusts that Hades will trust him enough, should the need arise, and so... ] I will await the revelation of your mystery eagerly, in the meantime.
[ He tries - oh he tries to stay serious after speaking so gently. But Emet-Selch goes on, and there's a smirk twitching across his face before he's even through explaining. A bright snort of laughter escapes Viktor just as soon as Emet-Selch is done. He catches the sound in his open palm, muffling it with his hand, and then jutting a finger out just as soon as he's calmed himself down. ]
Quite bold of you to accuse me of l-leering, isn't it? [ A waggle of said accusatory finger. ] I'd wager it's not been ten minutes since you told me of your bath tub daydreams. Aye, c-convenient. Sure. I know the t-truth of it now. Convenient that your pretty rabbit can't see how excited you get thinking about him, aye? [ He drifts closer again, flapping his free hand dismissively. Water sloshes as he climbs between Emet-Selch's legs and plants himself in his space again, grin a crescent moon, voice all firelight. ] You old pervert.
[ Despite his earlier claims, the chamomile shows no signs of making him drowsy as he takes another sip - it does not even dampen his smile, pressed so close to Emet-Selch's face once more. ]
And I s-suppose we just soaked in that bath in those imaginings of yours, hm? No funny business at all.
no subject
So, he trusts. He trusts that Hades will be safe. That the most eminent Emet-Selch will call his hero if he faces real danger. That he will not tread a trecherous path alone. He also suspects that Hades would subject himself to immense torment if it meant sparing Viktor real danger, real despair. Which is horrendously silly of him - Viktor is made to face danger, to carry despair. ]
Well- just- [ he shrugs. ] do not- do not break your own heart to spare mine. 'Tis a fraught thing you research, I know. I do not want you to face what you discover alone. [ But he trusts that Hades will trust him enough, should the need arise, and so... ] I will await the revelation of your mystery eagerly, in the meantime.
[ He tries - oh he tries to stay serious after speaking so gently. But Emet-Selch goes on, and there's a smirk twitching across his face before he's even through explaining. A bright snort of laughter escapes Viktor just as soon as Emet-Selch is done. He catches the sound in his open palm, muffling it with his hand, and then jutting a finger out just as soon as he's calmed himself down. ]
Quite bold of you to accuse me of l-leering, isn't it? [ A waggle of said accusatory finger. ] I'd wager it's not been ten minutes since you told me of your bath tub daydreams. Aye, c-convenient. Sure. I know the t-truth of it now. Convenient that your pretty rabbit can't see how excited you get thinking about him, aye? [ He drifts closer again, flapping his free hand dismissively. Water sloshes as he climbs between Emet-Selch's legs and plants himself in his space again, grin a crescent moon, voice all firelight. ] You old pervert.
[ Despite his earlier claims, the chamomile shows no signs of making him drowsy as he takes another sip - it does not even dampen his smile, pressed so close to Emet-Selch's face once more. ]
And I s-suppose we just soaked in that bath in those imaginings of yours, hm? No funny business at all.