[ the discomfort of the group does absolutely nothing to deter alhaitham's scathing comments, the calm tone of his voice making them somehow seem even more savage. unlike kaveh, he had no great aspirations to climb the ladders and become a sage - being acting grand sage and listening to a thousand faux-intellectuals whinge for two months was more than enough for him - so he's quite content to stand here, sipping his wine and speaking his thoughts how he sees fit.
at the next, firm tug on his sleeve, he glances sidelong at the blonde in a way that asked 'what?'. he's not doing anything wrong, he's factually correct, and moreover, kaveh was ignoring the fact that the other scholar was all but verbally feeling him up in front of their peers.
nasser was lucky the scribe didn't simply pick him up and throw him out of the soiree by the scruff of his neck considering his next set of poorly chosen words, much less the hand slimily slinking around the blonde's waist. alhaitham doesn't much care what the scholar thought of him or his intellect, the jab completely missing the target - but trying to grab kaveh, hm, that makes something dark flash through those turquoise eyes as the architect swats away the hand trying to sink into the crimson of his shirt.
kaveh's save seems to somewhat defuse the greater situation, however, because whatever discomfort the larger party had been feeling was replaced with some confusion at the errant compliment towards the scribe. understandable, considering the two were infamous for their public bickering, but (for kaveh's sake, he thinks tiredly) alhaitham swallows his urge to grab the now decidedly sour looking scholar at kaveh's side. ]
A red letter day to receive such praise from the light of the Kshahrewar - how humbled I am as a simple scribe to receive it. [ he responds bemusedly, emphasising the title that nasser had attempted to weaponise just moments earlier. staring straight at the scholar; ] I look forward to the next proposal of yours that crosses my desk.
[ and there's a scattering of chuckles throughout the group at the rebuttal, the tension slowly diffusing despite the fuming expression that remained on nasser's face. cocking his head to look at the rest of the group not currently trying to feel up his partner, alhaitham takes another sip of his wine with nonchalance, not nearly intoxicated enough to deal with any of this.
but - even he could play nice once in a while, he supposes. ]
I daresay the admiration directed at the designer of the Alcazarzaray palace isn't entirely misplaced, however. He might be the loudest member of his darshan, but it'd be hard to argue he isn't the most talented as well.
[ to which some murmurs of agreement are given enthusiastically by the remaining decent members of the group, some comments included about the palace's beauty, the undertaking of such a project, the impression it'd made. ]
no subject
at the next, firm tug on his sleeve, he glances sidelong at the blonde in a way that asked 'what?'. he's not doing anything wrong, he's factually correct, and moreover, kaveh was ignoring the fact that the other scholar was all but verbally feeling him up in front of their peers.
nasser was lucky the scribe didn't simply pick him up and throw him out of the soiree by the scruff of his neck considering his next set of poorly chosen words, much less the hand slimily slinking around the blonde's waist. alhaitham doesn't much care what the scholar thought of him or his intellect, the jab completely missing the target - but trying to grab kaveh, hm, that makes something dark flash through those turquoise eyes as the architect swats away the hand trying to sink into the crimson of his shirt.
kaveh's save seems to somewhat defuse the greater situation, however, because whatever discomfort the larger party had been feeling was replaced with some confusion at the errant compliment towards the scribe. understandable, considering the two were infamous for their public bickering, but (for kaveh's sake, he thinks tiredly) alhaitham swallows his urge to grab the now decidedly sour looking scholar at kaveh's side. ]
A red letter day to receive such praise from the light of the Kshahrewar - how humbled I am as a simple scribe to receive it. [ he responds bemusedly, emphasising the title that nasser had attempted to weaponise just moments earlier. staring straight at the scholar; ] I look forward to the next proposal of yours that crosses my desk.
[ and there's a scattering of chuckles throughout the group at the rebuttal, the tension slowly diffusing despite the fuming expression that remained on nasser's face. cocking his head to look at the rest of the group not currently trying to feel up his partner, alhaitham takes another sip of his wine with nonchalance, not nearly intoxicated enough to deal with any of this.
but - even he could play nice once in a while, he supposes. ]
I daresay the admiration directed at the designer of the Alcazarzaray palace isn't entirely misplaced, however. He might be the loudest member of his darshan, but it'd be hard to argue he isn't the most talented as well.
[ to which some murmurs of agreement are given enthusiastically by the remaining decent members of the group, some comments included about the palace's beauty, the undertaking of such a project, the impression it'd made. ]