If you don't want to hear bullshit, you should stop talking with human beings. They have little else to offer. The service I offer is that I'm honest and transparent about my bullshitting - I'll never pretend to tell you the truth.
[ John's expression matches, falls into something squinting and pleased as Byerly conjures up some web of words he nearly loses track of. not quite enough not to be able to hook himself onto the end of it and come back with a question, wine-warm and without any trace of irritation at the nature of the talk. a tipsy stab in the dark that lands in the right place. ]
This conversation's not on the clock. So where does that leave you and your transparent horseshit?
[ mostly he just seems to be having fun switching up the number of ways he can utilise the word shit in the same context. ]
Maybe I'll take a few silver from your pocket after. Don't you enjoy my horseshit, though? It's so pleasingly delivered. I'd have made a good court jester, back in the days when such men found gainful employment.
[ He reaches out and tops off John's glass again. ]
[ leave his hard-earned silver alone! some of us have to sit in an office doing nothing for many hours just to occasionally treat a black eye for a living! but he's laughing along - catches that glass fill this time, frowning slightly along with the smile it brings. ]
Anyone would think you're trying to get me drunk, Mr— [ actually, he can't for the life of him remember By's surname, if he knows it at all. so... ] Jester.
[ it's an echo of a conversation that passed during a time he's discussed all too often recently, and the brief titter at that in-joke he shares only with himself is indicator enough that he might well be on his way there. ]
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If you don't want to hear bullshit, you should stop talking with human beings. They have little else to offer. The service I offer is that I'm honest and transparent about my bullshitting - I'll never pretend to tell you the truth.
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This conversation's not on the clock. So where does that leave you and your transparent horseshit?
[ mostly he just seems to be having fun switching up the number of ways he can utilise the word shit in the same context. ]
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[ By flutters his eyelashes at John. ]
Maybe I'll take a few silver from your pocket after. Don't you enjoy my horseshit, though? It's so pleasingly delivered. I'd have made a good court jester, back in the days when such men found gainful employment.
[ He reaches out and tops off John's glass again. ]
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[ leave his hard-earned silver alone! some of us have to sit in an office doing nothing for many hours just to occasionally treat a black eye for a living! but he's laughing along - catches that glass fill this time, frowning slightly along with the smile it brings. ]
Anyone would think you're trying to get me drunk, Mr— [ actually, he can't for the life of him remember By's surname, if he knows it at all. so... ] Jester.
[ it's an echo of a conversation that passed during a time he's discussed all too often recently, and the brief titter at that in-joke he shares only with himself is indicator enough that he might well be on his way there. ]
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Perhaps I am. The flush in your cheeks is terribly becoming, you know.
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[ no they definitely don't ]
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Do you enjoy a bit of flattery, dear Doctor?
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[ he enjoys flattery in certain contexts - this being one of them only because it's so obviously ridiculous. ]
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[ His grin broadens. ]
What else would you enjoy? I could speak about your hands.
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Or you could not.
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[ The smile turns a little more challenging. ]
My deepest apologies, Doctor. I didn't mean to make you feel shy.
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[ is very much in the market for another sip of wine though, Christ ]