"Yes, yes," she pats the back of his hand over hers with her free one. "Very thoughtful. In any case, I don't anticipate they will have so much to be upset by over the winter. I have quite moved on from incendiaries. Or at the very least have resolved to continue experimentation in the Gallows where the work can be done more comfortably. The house's workshop shall be dedicated to toxicants, I think. Which reminds me, mind that you do not touch anything on the plates on my worktable."
It's always so fun to receive a new source of apprehension.
"Wysteria," Ellis says, for lack of ability to pick one clear objection. His grip tightens on her hand futilely. "Tell me you aren't bringing food on plates into your workshop."
Maybe her Satinalia gift should have been an upgraded ventilation system for the workspace. Ellis had seen Tony's sketches and thought them ambitious, but—
"Not at all," she patiently assures him. She has heard this tone before and knows that a certain gentleness of touch may be required to see him put at ease.
"But there are plates in my workshop on which I am presently growing rather poisonous fungi and I would prefer that no one touch them. There are notes on all of them, of course, but it is only polite to say something directly as well."
"Have I covered the plates," she repeats to herself. Honestly. "Of course I have covered the plates of half of the samples. The others are exposed to sunlight during the day, so I might understand the best conditions under which it grows."
She pats his hand in hers once more for emphasis. Are you comforted now, Ellis?
"I had the opportunity to collect a number of strange samples when Mr. Stark and I travelled to manage the Bierstagg rift. Given their toxic nature, I thought it best to keep them in a secure place for study rather than in the Gallows workshops where someone might stumble upon them unawares."
She is being the very height of responsible, thank you very much.
"Once I have a reliable stock from which to cut from, I would like to consult with Miss Van Klerk or Madame Smythe to see how best to use it. I suspect a grenade formula, or perhaps simply a coating for arrow heads."
There is some visible conflict in Ellis' expression. On the one hand, that would be very useful. On the other, why does it have to be done in the house?
After a moment: "You're terribly clever, you know."
Because that's the truth of it, regardless of Ellis' apprehensions. The entire matter can be distilled to that single truth: Wysteria saw opportunity and pursued it. She is blindingly clever, and he is proud of her for it.
"But be sure you mind you don't do yourself harm in the process, yes?"
She should almost certainly have something to say in reply to the second point - 'Yes, Mr. Ellis. It is perfectly safe and I will take great care to be mindful of not touching the poisonous fungi and then my face;' 'Yes, of course Mr. Ellis. I will practice every precaution, and Madame Smythe is quite accomplished. I have no doubt that as a senior alchemist she will be the very picture of caution' -, but nothing rises readily.
For she is trapped in the moment prior, the one in which she is terribly clever, and the warmth which blooms in her chest on account of it is such a real thing that she can feel it hot in her cheeks and prickling behind her eyes.
She laughs. It's a cursory 'ha ha' designed for sweeping away a series of more ridiculous sentiments and to leave behind room for only smug self satisfaction.
"Of course," Ellis agrees warmly. His hands tighten on hers for a moment before he releases her. "And I've kept you too long, I think."
Considering how very busy she is, with such demands on her time. Some light amusement warms his expression as he looks at her, straightening as he folds the jacket over the book and packet.
She fusses briefly with the collar of the embroidered bright red half cape and how it lies about her shoulders and then, kicking out her boots, springs decisively up onto her feet. Her skirts and trailing edge of the cape have collected a prodigious amount of hay, which she knocks (or irritably picks) briskly free before offering her crooked elbow to him.
A pause, in which Ellis tugs on his own coat, tucks his Satinalia gifts under one arm, plucks two lingering bits of straw from the hip of her skirt, and then—
"Yes," he tells her, offering her his elbow. It's still a little less natural a gesture on him than it would be on another, but it's offered none the less. "Let's see you off on your business."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
"Yes, yes," she pats the back of his hand over hers with her free one. "Very thoughtful. In any case, I don't anticipate they will have so much to be upset by over the winter. I have quite moved on from incendiaries. Or at the very least have resolved to continue experimentation in the Gallows where the work can be done more comfortably. The house's workshop shall be dedicated to toxicants, I think. Which reminds me, mind that you do not touch anything on the plates on my worktable."
no subject
"Wysteria," Ellis says, for lack of ability to pick one clear objection. His grip tightens on her hand futilely. "Tell me you aren't bringing food on plates into your workshop."
Maybe her Satinalia gift should have been an upgraded ventilation system for the workspace. Ellis had seen Tony's sketches and thought them ambitious, but—
no subject
"But there are plates in my workshop on which I am presently growing rather poisonous fungi and I would prefer that no one touch them. There are notes on all of them, of course, but it is only polite to say something directly as well."
See? Perfectly reasonable.
no subject
"You've covered the plates?"
Which is potentially a better question than: What are you planning on doing with poisonous fungi?
no subject
She pats his hand in hers once more for emphasis. Are you comforted now, Ellis?
no subject
"Remind me what prompted this curiosity," Ellis asks her, the worried frown not eased by the pat of her hand.
no subject
She is being the very height of responsible, thank you very much.
"Once I have a reliable stock from which to cut from, I would like to consult with Miss Van Klerk or Madame Smythe to see how best to use it. I suspect a grenade formula, or perhaps simply a coating for arrow heads."
no subject
After a moment: "You're terribly clever, you know."
Because that's the truth of it, regardless of Ellis' apprehensions. The entire matter can be distilled to that single truth: Wysteria saw opportunity and pursued it. She is blindingly clever, and he is proud of her for it.
"But be sure you mind you don't do yourself harm in the process, yes?"
no subject
For she is trapped in the moment prior, the one in which she is terribly clever, and the warmth which blooms in her chest on account of it is such a real thing that she can feel it hot in her cheeks and prickling behind her eyes.
She laughs. It's a cursory 'ha ha' designed for sweeping away a series of more ridiculous sentiments and to leave behind room for only smug self satisfaction.
"Yes, yes," she declares. "I'm quite aware."
no subject
Considering how very busy she is, with such demands on her time. Some light amusement warms his expression as he looks at her, straightening as he folds the jacket over the book and packet.
"Shall I walk you to the ferry, or elsewhere?"
no subject
She fusses briefly with the collar of the embroidered bright red half cape and how it lies about her shoulders and then, kicking out her boots, springs decisively up onto her feet. Her skirts and trailing edge of the cape have collected a prodigious amount of hay, which she knocks (or irritably picks) briskly free before offering her crooked elbow to him.
"Shall we, Mr. Ellis?"
slaps bow on this
"Yes," he tells her, offering her his elbow. It's still a little less natural a gesture on him than it would be on another, but it's offered none the less. "Let's see you off on your business."