[AW] just don't ask

[Acton]

Acton these violent delights have violent ends   Things grew a lot more predictable once they stepped inside. There was a reason (other than his recklessness, his impudence, his arrogance, and his far from level head) that Acton had avoided becoming involved with any semblance of order or responsibility in the above-board ranks of the Night Court. Such meetings, such talk, wasn’t the way his mind worked; he was far too impatient and far too careless for the regard of others. And so, though he listened with interest to Isorath’s remarks on companions, and laughed at Rostislav’s brief explanation of where he’d been, already that familiar itch was under his skin. While he knew that both Rosti and Reich could carouse with the dregs of the Night Court as well has he could, he had no intent of being around once the conversation turned to official business, and that always came sooner or later. As the rest of them took their place at a table Acton slouched with a cocked hoof, his amber-eyed gaze wandering from the Warden to his king and the Kirin, who were exchanging touches like schoolyard crushes. “Great to have you back, Rosti, though I’m afraid the cellarman’s been instructed to keep you out of the barrels,” he told the man with a grin, then ducked his head toward Reichenbach. “Better have Aislinn whip him back into shape,” he said with a wink, then turned away, snagging a piece of bread from the approaching servant’s tray before he went. It was time to find the next diversion. @Rostislav @Isorath @Reichenbach