[ Valmont blinks as the woman's quill pen, improbably, begins writing by itself, apparently not even needing dictation. Of course - it's magic. He needs to stop expecting anything in this world to not be, really. ]
Oh. That's handy.
[ And then comes the onslaught of questions, which it takes him a moment or two to try and work through. Valmont's no expert on interviewing etiquette, but he feels like it generally ought to at least allow the subject room to breathe. ]
Well - yes, all of those, although I was thinking specifically of the part where we turn into animals once a month. Although if you're new, you won't have had that pleasure yet, I suppose...
[ He trails off, having craned his neck to catch sight of what's being written about him, and there's the briefest of seconds in which he puffs up at the word "handsome" before - ]
Did that quill of yours just call me middle-aged? I'm - I'm thirty-six!
[ It's the hair, isn't it. It's always the hair. ]
of course not, that's what servants are for
Oh. That's handy.
[ And then comes the onslaught of questions, which it takes him a moment or two to try and work through. Valmont's no expert on interviewing etiquette, but he feels like it generally ought to at least allow the subject room to breathe. ]
Well - yes, all of those, although I was thinking specifically of the part where we turn into animals once a month. Although if you're new, you won't have had that pleasure yet, I suppose...
[ He trails off, having craned his neck to catch sight of what's being written about him, and there's the briefest of seconds in which he puffs up at the word "handsome" before - ]
Did that quill of yours just call me middle-aged? I'm - I'm thirty-six!
[ It's the hair, isn't it. It's always the hair. ]