[no way, Oscar, he is so wise to this game. He purses his lips, unimpressed by the baiting. What would an evening with Oscar be without some verbal sparring. It's the only kind of push back he'll get from Silas.]
There is satisfaction, but no, I would not call that art. [he puffs some smoke]
For all your posturing, you do so often romanticize the world. [given that most Springtide romances are also tragedies, Silas thinks he's on point]
[Well, if Silas was an easy victim he wouldn't enjoy it so much!]
I'd go so far as to say satisfaction is an art! [he smiles, wide and clear]
I've spent most of my life perfecting it. [Ironically, perfecting the art of his own satisfaction had taken him through so many different hobbies and arts. It has also resulted in him being here in the first place.]
[Still, if Oscar hadn't done that, he probably never would have given Silas the time of day unless he was bleeding his guts out.]
Perfection such as that is surely unobtainable. A man like you could own the world and still want more. [Silas wouldn't stoke the man's ego by saying I wouldn't put that passed you, even though it was true. Oscar was a man of unbridled ambition, if he wasn't a member of the Springtide, chained to their traditions as much as he chose to be, well.... Silas wouldn't be surprised by anything he could do with so much drive.]
[The great maker gave Oscar a compulsive need for trouble and a very restrained society because otherwise, Oscar would hunt down the very maker and try to overthrow them.]
[It's a shame that such attention was given to him, while the pink lily pig boy was ignored. They should know where the real source of cute evil was in this world.]
Well, if I own nothing then technically I already own everything. [he smiles, wryly, at his circular logic.]
All things in this world are mine... as a druid, a loyal steward of nature.
You are positively ridiculous, Sir Oscar. [Silas says, stern and somehow adoring. It was as affectionate as he could be with his friend without setting him off. He may have added something, but his nose catches scent of the food arriving from the kitchen and he quickly takes in two, snorting breathes before swiveling his attention to the plates arriving. He'll thank the bartender profusely, not taking the time to bat his eyelashes, wanting too much to dig in as soon as was proper. When Silas is eating, he'd a very happy druid.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I don't know what you mean. I'm no artist. [he puffs]
C, certainly not by your definition.
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Is there not art in a well done job? [He rephrases it, surely intended to get Silas to agree to something less embarrassing and then swing it back.]
A bone can be set one way or another but there is certainly a better way to do it and that, I would argue, is an art as well.
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There is satisfaction, but no, I would not call that art. [he puffs some smoke]
For all your posturing, you do so often romanticize the world. [given that most Springtide romances are also tragedies, Silas thinks he's on point]
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I'd go so far as to say satisfaction is an art! [he smiles, wide and clear]
I've spent most of my life perfecting it. [Ironically, perfecting the art of his own satisfaction had taken him through so many different hobbies and arts. It has also resulted in him being here in the first place.]
[Still, if Oscar hadn't done that, he probably never would have given Silas the time of day unless he was bleeding his guts out.]
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[It's a shame that such attention was given to him, while the pink lily pig boy was ignored. They should know where the real source of cute evil was in this world.]
Well, if I own nothing then technically I already own everything. [he smiles, wryly, at his circular logic.]
All things in this world are mine... as a druid, a loyal steward of nature.
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