#qifrey.

" WHAT AN INTRIGUING THOUGHT ... " the mage's voice folds around the thick of his words with it's usual velvet smoothness, hard as ever to tell if he's merely humoring or truly impressed by what he sees in front of him. he doesn't reach for the work immediately, instead clasping his hands behind his back with a pronounced head tilt to the right. ( qifrey observes the relic with the patient attentiveness of someone willing to wait all evening for the rest of the answer to piece into place on it's own. ) it doesn't. it never does. instead, his visible eye glints, half lit by the lamp. there's something unreadable in the gaze, part curiosity, part calculation. " to say you don't know if your teacher will like it. "

silence fills the space in the even ripple it always does when the mouth goes as blank as the mind. he continues after a long pause nonetheless, quiet and almost conspiratorial tone. " invention has never begun by asking for permission, has it? true magic has always belonged to those to dare to prod at the edges of what is and isn't allowed. " qifrey leans forward, close enough for tatli to feel the faint shift in the air, though hands remain tucked away and disciplined. one of the girls laughs bright on the breeze that filters in through an open window. the smile that lifts at his mouth is warm, but it flickers like a candle: uncertain and difficult to grasp. " you speak of fairness as though it's simple, but you already know better. fairness is ... a fragile, fragile thing. and yet ⸻ "