This is a very strange plan, one that Lucius really hasn't quite wrapped his head around, but if he asked questions then it would be explained to him and...no. No, thank you. So, it is with a very tired sigh, that he drags himself out of bed at the very crack of dawn to gather up the first of several...dozen? Yes, several dozen shirts that he's meant to give to Izzy.
He's also gathered up a book and some tea, nominally from the Captain, but mostly just so that Izzy won't actually murder him on sight if he catches him dropping this all off. Given how hideous the first shirt is, he certainly might try.
That's how Lucius finds himself carrying a handful of sundries and an awful linen shirt down the hall at five in the morning. He's dressed in his normal fare for once, save for the mustard yellow yeezys, and hopefully his new shoes are quiet enough that he can just sneak by Izzy's door after dropping this all off. If he can, then he's in the clear...but that does, however, conjure a new question. How is Izzy meant to know it's there if he's stealthy enough to slip away?
Maybe if he just, sets it down, knocks really fast, and then runs?
It's far too early for normal people to be awake, lulled into relaxation and lazy hours on a pleasure vessel. But then again Izzy is not normal people. Like Lucius (maybe), he is accustomed to rising at dawn, and if you think he's had any sort of restful sleep you are sorely mistaken.
The knock takes him by surprise and he rises to answer, thinking it may be Edward with something useful.
It is not. It is a pile of items accompanied by the soft thud of quickly retreating feet.
How sad for Lucius then that the hall is straight and long, with Izzy down the far end.
"Spriggs!" A sharp bark. Enough to stop anyone in their tracks. He hasn't been up long enough for this shit to start so soon.
"What's the meaning of this?"
Oh shit, already? That's his favorite time of day.
Lucius had tried to make a break for it but, well, he's not fast and...for some dumb reason he'd knocked, then put everything down, so he's not even really very far away. He stops, as demanded, because there's no playing it off and lets out a long, put upon sigh. When he turns back to Izzy it's with an apologetic sort of grimace.
"Welcome gifts, I guess," Lucius answers and, since he's not getting out of this, meanders back begrudgingly. "Captain's orders."
That- changes things a bit but doesn't serve to make it any more comfortable. He furrows his brow before dropping to scoop up the offerings, feeling rather like a new cat facing attempts of luring it out from behind a barrel with cream.
The shirt he hates immediately, though the linen is very fine to the touch. The book is a complete unknown but not unappreciated and the tea..
The tea is very fancy.
"Which captain?" Though he suspects he knows. It's the tea that gives it away.
Lucius expects more pushback as Izzy picks up the offerings. In fact, he expects more reaction to the shirt on whole, really, but he gets nothing. He glances at the book, some paperback that Lucius skimmed and thought seemed alright, and then the tin of tea he'd snatched from behind the counter at the boba place. It hadn't been opened, so he assumed it was largely decorative, but it smelled right.
"Bonnet," he admits with a small wince. He can guess how well this will go over...but that does raise other questions. "Blackbeard doesn't strike me as the send a fellow linens sort...?"
In all honesty he hasn't looked at the shirt too closely. He's got three gifts and two hands and all of these items are varying levels of suspicious.
"He would for me, yeah." Noncommittal as he pops the tin open with his thumb and gives it a sniff. Earl gray, blended with such fine bergamot you'd have to be a king or an idiot with more money than sense to procure it.
It sits on a level in Izzy's mind shared with valuables like gold and fine pieces of silk. When they take ships asunder and the bounty includes it, he always, always chooses the Earl Grey for himself. It had been devastation to lose his supply when they abandoned their ship for Stede's, and a small solace to find it stocked in the pantry.
Providing Bonnet hasn't poisoned this treasure, it is quite a stunning gift.
"This has been opened," he says, if only for Lucius to smell it and make sure of it's contents before including it.
The prospect presents itself as treachery and Izzy looks to Lucius. The poor, shot messenger.
Lucius is about to admit to having opened the tea, if only to make sure there was tea in it, but then Izzy is inviting him in and he's not...sure what to do with that. Izzy gives him a flat look but neither stabs him nor throws the gifts on the floor so...he takes it as a good sign and warily follows the other man into his cabin.
Izzy's room looks like every other cabin on the boat save, perhaps, that it's flipped from the orientation of Lucius's cabin. He walks in, comfortable as you please, because how do you feel uncomfortable in as impersonal a space as this? But...the bed is unmade because Izzy had been sleeping and the curtains are mostly drawn. Okay, that makes it a little uncomfortable.
"Nice room," Lucius compliments in a desperate attempt at small talk.
He tosses the shirt and book unceremoniously on his bed before doubling back to the ugly little contraption on his dresser. He's managed to work out that it makes some manner of hot drink seeing as there are cups and sachets, but the English is different than what he's used to, paired back in a way that is stupidly frustrating.
"This thing makes tea," he decides aloud and gestures. Why don't you make us some."
Lucius pulls a face at being cut off but, once Izzy moves to the little hot water maker thing, he sees the shape of the problem. He can sympathize, he too desires hot tea in his own room. Getting it from ghosts at the crack of dawn is...disconcerting.
"Yeah, alright," Lucius replies flatly and moves to take the little carafe off the stand. It fits one good cup or two small ones if the timing is just right. A quick march has him filling it in the washroom sink and then returning to dump that water into the top opening of the maker. He doesn't bother explaining what he's up to, just does, and is glad it's relatively simple.
"May I?" he asks, rhetorically, as he pops the tin of tea open and snatches up two of the little cloth bags. He tosses the both in to the empty carafe, pops it onto the heating element, and switches the little thing on. After a moment of silence it burbles to life.
"Got no cream or sugar with me, hope you like it straight."
From all the many things he could have said. Because of course. Of course they would have fresh dairy. From what he's seen of the place they may have their own farm.
Of course it isn't lost on Izzy that yes, many ships would keep a cow, but milk was seasonal and dependent so to have it on tap was truly special.
Then again the ceiling glows on command and there's fresh water coming from every pipe, so what the fuck does he know. Gratefully, Lucius just gets on the with task and he watches closely, taking in how the machine works and marveling a bit at the delicate paper bags in which the tea is stored. He's slightly offended that their contents aren't emptied but once he sees it in motion, he understands and appreciates the ease and innovation. How fascinating.
He takes a perch by leaning his hip against the dresser and folding his arms over his chest, just watching. But also watching his guest quite carefully. They haven't spent this much time alone together...ever maybe, if you discount the other day. He isn't sure how to feel about it. Life was awkward aboard The Revenge because they- sort of- occupied the same rank. Now here they have nothing of the sort and the man he looked to for a plan has nothing to offer. It feels aimless.
Izzy hates aimless. If he stops moving forward for a second then the past might catch up and devour him whole. How can he preserve himself without purpose?
"My captain tells me there's a crew forming. To what end?"
Lucius, unhelpfully, does not have an answer to that question. He watches the little machine as it burbles and dumps hot water on the tea, as it hisses and spits and little flecks of water spill out from the cheap lid. It's a marvel to him, not having to stoke a fire or anything to boil a kettle, so he barely minds the few stray drops that hit his arm.
He shrugs at Izzy and then looks back up.
They don't really chat and Izzy's already shut down small talk. Big talk, therefore, is the only thing left...even if he doesn't have an actual answer. Lucius hums a bit as he tries to formulate one.
"Well, as near as I can figure," Lucius begins and leans both arms back on the dresser so he can hop up and sit on the edge. "The idea was that two pirates alone can't do much on a ship the size of a city. Need extra hands. So Captain went looking for more and assembled a group of people who also don't want to be here so much."
He shrugs again as this is, really, all supposition.
"It's a nice group, lots of talent, even if we're not sure how to really...go about things."
"He may have done?" Lucius replies and tries to recall. "I don't--we don't really chat much, me and Blackbeard."
In fact he doesn't chat much with many people, lately. Not about pirate things, at least. He's not terribly bothered by being here, if his casual demeanor is anything to go by, and he just shrugs as he lets the thought pass by. The little water thing between them makes a sound like a straw gurgling against the bottom of a glass and then clicks off.
"I'm not really in the loop for grand planning. I mostly...manage and disseminate."
Izzy observes the machine. It's finished. Steeped poorly but it will have to do. This is when Izzy takes over, mindful that there could be some trick at play, and pours two cups before gesturing for Lucius to take the closest one to him.
"But you're Bonnet's first mate, are you not?"
He cradles his cup but does not drink, stalling with this obviously riveting conversation.
Lucius almost feels guilty for his initial wariness as he picks up the banal white teacup. He would never have guessed that Izzy would pour him half, nor that he'd keep polite conversation while doing it. It's...shockingly normal, almost personable behavior for a man he was pretty sure would rather run him through than look at him. This whole situation is as unexpected as it is...kind of pleasant actually.
Weird.
"Sort of?" Lucius answers with a wishy-washy hand gesture. He blows on the cup of tea, gives it a second, and then takes a sip. It's actually quite good, he realizes with a jolt of surprise. He'd not ordered it from that place, but he might have to see what it's like cold with...all those sweet little snacky-add-ins.
"He's not really got one, not a formal one," Lucius explains and gestures idly as he does. "I do a lot of the jobs, keep track of rations, pay salaries, take dictation, but the other bits? The...tactical and sailing and crew morale and such? That's all other people. Buttons, Olu, Frenchie--I guess we don't have anybody here for it. Hm."
That's disconcerting and Lucius pulls a face before taking a healthier drink of his tea.
"I rather think he'd prefer to die," Lucius admits with a shrug and then realizes that conveys an idea that's not quite accurate. He shifts to hold his cup between both hands and peers at Izzy. Izzy who is waiting for his to cool, clearly. Smart.
"I mean I'm sure he's got it in him," Lucius clarifies. "Can't imagine him making a point with it, but he surprises me just as often as everyone else. Hard to call, really."
He glances pointedly at the cup.
"You...don't like Earl Grey? Or is it the lack of sugar and cream?" He doesn't sound sarcastic here, just curious, and feels another twinge of guilt. He could have filled a bag with those little cups and packets of extras. They had them, it just hadn't occurred to him in the moment.
Hate it, he should say. But he just can't quite bring himself to.
Izzy looks down at his cup. The scent is so fragrant and whimsical, how could he hate it?
He supposes the opinions on Bonnet are largely acceptable, though not entirely soothing. What he is certain of is, if there is something nefarious afoot, not!mate Spriggs is none the wiser. It would take a coward to send poison in this manner.
He doesn't hold Stede above that, but it would be extremely cruel.
"No," almost distracted. Izzy rests the cup on his gloved palm and rotates it to the right and back. There's almost no dregs in the bottom. It's an extremely clean pour.
"I prefer it black."
He lifts it to smell, breathing in with some small pleasure but searching for the earthy almond and floral vanilla of arsenic.
"How did Bonnet know this is my drink?"
It seems a level of keen attention to detail he wouldn't attribute to the Pirate Bluebell.
Lucius has never seen a man treat a cup of tea this way but, then again, every time he'd ever seen Izzy with one it had been in a tin mug that he'd made himself. Maybe he did this with every cup? Who knew.
"Uh...I don't think he did," Lucius admits and lifts his own cup to finish it. It gives him a moment to think of an excuse but, tragically, he's a terrible liar. There's nothing for it.
"The shirt was his...idea? More or less," Lucius explains. "The book and the tea were mine."
"Stede? No, no--I, no," Lucius answers quickly with a snort. He has trouble even wrapping his mind around the concept. First of all it was ungentlemanly behavior, so that put it right out, and second...he's not sure the idea of poison would even occur to him. Besides, where would he even get poison to put in tea--
Wait.
Hang the fuck on.
"Was that why you waited for me to finish?" Lucius asks, suddenly aghast.
Izzy had stood there while he made it because he wanted to be sure Lucius wasn't doing anything suspect? He poured him a cup--not out of the niceness of his fucking blackened little heart, but because he thought it was poisoned!? He thought Stede had poisoned it and wanted Lucius to test it first!? Yes, that makes much more sense, of course, but now he feels both incensed and like an idiot.
"Oh my god--" Lucius says and hops down from the dresser to just be furious for a moment. "--I cannot believe--you know what? Rude. Even for you."
Izzy’s brows pin high for a moment. Lucius is nothing if not animated.
And maybe he has a point.
Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.
But what’s more did that mean this guy was really just in here having a cup of tea with him? At five in the morning? To be friendly? With him??
Tea he had brought off his own back, with a book no less, to.. to what. Soften the curse of that shirt?
Izzy has to bend a little with the revelation. And yes, his assumption was rude. Paranoid. Maybe a little dramatic.
Not ideal.
“Was a bit, yeah.”
Another sip. He hears the outrage but stays passive and looks at the tea maker thing where he spies the two little cookies wrapped in plastic (what even is that) in and amongst the foreign tubes of what are apparently coffee.
Izzy snags one of them between his fingers, inspects it, and offers it to Lucius.
He's expecting dismissal, or sneering judgment, or even a baldfaced accusation of idiocy. Lucius is absolutely primed to throw any and all of that right back in Izzy's face. Instead, what he gets...is Izzy taking a sip and offering him...a shortbread cookie? Lucius reels but, then he continues and--
It's almost an apology?
"Uh--" Lucius starts dumbly and takes the little proferred cookie. It has a tiny ship debossed on it. Just like that Izzy has cut his legs out from under him (metaphorically).
"Alright," Lucius agrees, for lack of anything else to say. He takes a bite of the cookie and considers Izzy, his brow furrowed as he chews. When he swallows, he says:
"In all fairness, I should warn you: I did poison the book."
Not really idiocy if it's an point blank, accurate outrage. Lucius Spriggs is a stupid fucker but he isn't stupid.
This footing is new, though. Unsettling to say the least. For once- for once it is Lucius on the back foot is only for a second before he reels for a quip back.
Did-
Did Izzy just win this interaction? Does this set a measure of balance back into the competing ledgers? Fucking excellent!
Until of course the book comment and he knows it's a lie but oh you fucking brat. It's too early for this bullshit.
"Right-" shooing at the door. "-get out or I'll make ya fucking eat it. I will."
Fair. Lucius takes another bite of the cookie and nods as he heads for the door. He talks while chewing which is extremely rude but, on balance, not more rude than using someone to test for poison.
"Nice chat," he says. "Same time tomorrow?"
He does not want to be up at the same time tomorrow but he has his orders and...so many shirts. He gestures at the shirt on the dresser.
"The rest of them are less subdued, by the way, sorry, I just figured we ought to start off...neutral."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Log - What time is it? Shirt O' Clock Apparently.
He's also gathered up a book and some tea, nominally from the Captain, but mostly just so that Izzy won't actually murder him on sight if he catches him dropping this all off. Given how hideous the first shirt is, he certainly might try.
That's how Lucius finds himself carrying a handful of sundries and an awful linen shirt down the hall at five in the morning. He's dressed in his normal fare for once, save for the mustard yellow yeezys, and hopefully his new shoes are quiet enough that he can just sneak by Izzy's door after dropping this all off. If he can, then he's in the clear...but that does, however, conjure a new question. How is Izzy meant to know it's there if he's stealthy enough to slip away?
Maybe if he just, sets it down, knocks really fast, and then runs?
It's suck my dick o'clock
The knock takes him by surprise and he rises to answer, thinking it may be Edward with something useful.
It is not. It is a pile of items accompanied by the soft thud of quickly retreating feet.
How sad for Lucius then that the hall is straight and long, with Izzy down the far end.
"Spriggs!" A sharp bark. Enough to stop anyone in their tracks. He hasn't been up long enough for this shit to start so soon.
"What's the meaning of this?"
Oh shit, already? That's his favorite time of day.
"Welcome gifts, I guess," Lucius answers and, since he's not getting out of this, meanders back begrudgingly. "Captain's orders."
well you know I'm here to serve
That- changes things a bit but doesn't serve to make it any more comfortable. He furrows his brow before dropping to scoop up the offerings, feeling rather like a new cat facing attempts of luring it out from behind a barrel with cream.
The shirt he hates immediately, though the linen is very fine to the touch. The book is a complete unknown but not unappreciated and the tea..
The tea is very fancy.
"Which captain?" Though he suspects he knows. It's the tea that gives it away.
Servin looks.
"Bonnet," he admits with a small wince. He can guess how well this will go over...but that does raise other questions. "Blackbeard doesn't strike me as the send a fellow linens sort...?"
Is he? Because that would be fascinating.
Every damn day babe
"He would for me, yeah." Noncommittal as he pops the tin open with his thumb and gives it a sniff. Earl gray, blended with such fine bergamot you'd have to be a king or an idiot with more money than sense to procure it.
It sits on a level in Izzy's mind shared with valuables like gold and fine pieces of silk. When they take ships asunder and the bounty includes it, he always, always chooses the Earl Grey for himself. It had been devastation to lose his supply when they abandoned their ship for Stede's, and a small solace to find it stocked in the pantry.
Providing Bonnet hasn't poisoned this treasure, it is quite a stunning gift.
"This has been opened," he says, if only for Lucius to smell it and make sure of it's contents before including it.
The prospect presents itself as treachery and Izzy looks to Lucius. The poor, shot messenger.
"Come inside. Let's have a cup."
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Izzy's room looks like every other cabin on the boat save, perhaps, that it's flipped from the orientation of Lucius's cabin. He walks in, comfortable as you please, because how do you feel uncomfortable in as impersonal a space as this? But...the bed is unmade because Izzy had been sleeping and the curtains are mostly drawn. Okay, that makes it a little uncomfortable.
"Nice room," Lucius compliments in a desperate attempt at small talk.
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He tosses the shirt and book unceremoniously on his bed before doubling back to the ugly little contraption on his dresser. He's managed to work out that it makes some manner of hot drink seeing as there are cups and sachets, but the English is different than what he's used to, paired back in a way that is stupidly frustrating.
"This thing makes tea," he decides aloud and gestures. Why don't you make us some."
If it's poisoned then they're going out together.
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"Yeah, alright," Lucius replies flatly and moves to take the little carafe off the stand. It fits one good cup or two small ones if the timing is just right. A quick march has him filling it in the washroom sink and then returning to dump that water into the top opening of the maker. He doesn't bother explaining what he's up to, just does, and is glad it's relatively simple.
"May I?" he asks, rhetorically, as he pops the tin of tea open and snatches up two of the little cloth bags. He tosses the both in to the empty carafe, pops it onto the heating element, and switches the little thing on. After a moment of silence it burbles to life.
"Got no cream or sugar with me, hope you like it straight."
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From all the many things he could have said. Because of course. Of course they would have fresh dairy. From what he's seen of the place they may have their own farm.
Of course it isn't lost on Izzy that yes, many ships would keep a cow, but milk was seasonal and dependent so to have it on tap was truly special.
Then again the ceiling glows on command and there's fresh water coming from every pipe, so what the fuck does he know. Gratefully, Lucius just gets on the with task and he watches closely, taking in how the machine works and marveling a bit at the delicate paper bags in which the tea is stored. He's slightly offended that their contents aren't emptied but once he sees it in motion, he understands and appreciates the ease and innovation. How fascinating.
He takes a perch by leaning his hip against the dresser and folding his arms over his chest, just watching. But also watching his guest quite carefully. They haven't spent this much time alone together...ever maybe, if you discount the other day. He isn't sure how to feel about it. Life was awkward aboard The Revenge because they- sort of- occupied the same rank. Now here they have nothing of the sort and the man he looked to for a plan has nothing to offer. It feels aimless.
Izzy hates aimless. If he stops moving forward for a second then the past might catch up and devour him whole. How can he preserve himself without purpose?
"My captain tells me there's a crew forming. To what end?"
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He shrugs at Izzy and then looks back up.
They don't really chat and Izzy's already shut down small talk. Big talk, therefore, is the only thing left...even if he doesn't have an actual answer. Lucius hums a bit as he tries to formulate one.
"Well, as near as I can figure," Lucius begins and leans both arms back on the dresser so he can hop up and sit on the edge. "The idea was that two pirates alone can't do much on a ship the size of a city. Need extra hands. So Captain went looking for more and assembled a group of people who also don't want to be here so much."
He shrugs again as this is, really, all supposition.
"It's a nice group, lots of talent, even if we're not sure how to really...go about things."
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It is, after all, almost all he has been thinking about.
"Surveillance, man power, a way to the captain-" he cuts himself short.
"Has Blackbeard not said any of this to you lot? Is he not involved?"
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In fact he doesn't chat much with many people, lately. Not about pirate things, at least. He's not terribly bothered by being here, if his casual demeanor is anything to go by, and he just shrugs as he lets the thought pass by. The little water thing between them makes a sound like a straw gurgling against the bottom of a glass and then clicks off.
"I'm not really in the loop for grand planning. I mostly...manage and disseminate."
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Izzy observes the machine. It's finished. Steeped poorly but it will have to do. This is when Izzy takes over, mindful that there could be some trick at play, and pours two cups before gesturing for Lucius to take the closest one to him.
"But you're Bonnet's first mate, are you not?"
He cradles his cup but does not drink, stalling with this obviously riveting conversation.
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Weird.
"Sort of?" Lucius answers with a wishy-washy hand gesture. He blows on the cup of tea, gives it a second, and then takes a sip. It's actually quite good, he realizes with a jolt of surprise. He'd not ordered it from that place, but he might have to see what it's like cold with...all those sweet little snacky-add-ins.
"He's not really got one, not a formal one," Lucius explains and gestures idly as he does. "I do a lot of the jobs, keep track of rations, pay salaries, take dictation, but the other bits? The...tactical and sailing and crew morale and such? That's all other people. Buttons, Olu, Frenchie--I guess we don't have anybody here for it. Hm."
That's disconcerting and Lucius pulls a face before taking a healthier drink of his tea.
"Bit of a problem that."
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"It is."
The information is helpful, in the way vague information can be, but this isn't the function for their little natter. Just a little...snacky-add-in.
"Would you say he has the capacity to kill, your boss? If it meant him making a point."
If death means nothing then who is to say it would not be a small and necessary sacrifice to put means to an end.
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"I mean I'm sure he's got it in him," Lucius clarifies. "Can't imagine him making a point with it, but he surprises me just as often as everyone else. Hard to call, really."
He glances pointedly at the cup.
"You...don't like Earl Grey? Or is it the lack of sugar and cream?" He doesn't sound sarcastic here, just curious, and feels another twinge of guilt. He could have filled a bag with those little cups and packets of extras. They had them, it just hadn't occurred to him in the moment.
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Izzy looks down at his cup. The scent is so fragrant and whimsical, how could he hate it?
He supposes the opinions on Bonnet are largely acceptable, though not entirely soothing. What he is certain of is, if there is something nefarious afoot, not!mate Spriggs is none the wiser. It would take a coward to send poison in this manner.
He doesn't hold Stede above that, but it would be extremely cruel.
"No," almost distracted. Izzy rests the cup on his gloved palm and rotates it to the right and back. There's almost no dregs in the bottom. It's an extremely clean pour.
"I prefer it black."
He lifts it to smell, breathing in with some small pleasure but searching for the earthy almond and floral vanilla of arsenic.
"How did Bonnet know this is my drink?"
It seems a level of keen attention to detail he wouldn't attribute to the Pirate Bluebell.
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"Uh...I don't think he did," Lucius admits and lifts his own cup to finish it. It gives him a moment to think of an excuse but, tragically, he's a terrible liar. There's nothing for it.
"The shirt was his...idea? More or less," Lucius explains. "The book and the tea were mine."
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In a single breath Izzy relaxes and raises the cup to his lips.
It's good, this tea. Clean. The water tastes clear, the notes of flavour deep, precise, and slightly theatrical.
Then, almost as an afterthought,
"That's a fuckin' relief, I thought he'd sent you here to poison me."
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Wait.
Hang the fuck on.
"Was that why you waited for me to finish?" Lucius asks, suddenly aghast.
Izzy had stood there while he made it because he wanted to be sure Lucius wasn't doing anything suspect? He poured him a cup--not out of the niceness of his fucking blackened little heart, but because he thought it was poisoned!? He thought Stede had poisoned it and wanted Lucius to test it first!? Yes, that makes much more sense, of course, but now he feels both incensed and like an idiot.
"Oh my god--" Lucius says and hops down from the dresser to just be furious for a moment. "--I cannot believe--you know what? Rude. Even for you."
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And maybe he has a point.
Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.
But what’s more did that mean this guy was really just in here having a cup of tea with him? At five in the morning? To be friendly? With him??
Tea he had brought off his own back, with a book no less, to.. to what. Soften the curse of that shirt?
Izzy has to bend a little with the revelation. And yes, his assumption was rude. Paranoid. Maybe a little dramatic.
Not ideal.
“Was a bit, yeah.”
Another sip. He hears the outrage but stays passive and looks at the tea maker thing where he spies the two little cookies wrapped in plastic (what even is that) in and amongst the foreign tubes of what are apparently coffee.
Izzy snags one of them between his fingers, inspects it, and offers it to Lucius.
“Call it an.. early morning lapse of judgment?”
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It's almost an apology?
"Uh--" Lucius starts dumbly and takes the little proferred cookie. It has a tiny ship debossed on it. Just like that Izzy has cut his legs out from under him (metaphorically).
"Alright," Lucius agrees, for lack of anything else to say. He takes a bite of the cookie and considers Izzy, his brow furrowed as he chews. When he swallows, he says:
"In all fairness, I should warn you: I did poison the book."
He didn't but it's very bad.
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This footing is new, though. Unsettling to say the least. For once- for once it is Lucius on the back foot is only for a second before he reels for a quip back.
Did-
Did Izzy just win this interaction? Does this set a measure of balance back into the competing ledgers? Fucking excellent!
Until of course the book comment and he knows it's a lie but oh you fucking brat. It's too early for this bullshit.
"Right-" shooing at the door. "-get out or I'll make ya fucking eat it. I will."
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"Nice chat," he says. "Same time tomorrow?"
He does not want to be up at the same time tomorrow but he has his orders and...so many shirts. He gestures at the shirt on the dresser.
"The rest of them are less subdued, by the way, sorry, I just figured we ought to start off...neutral."
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