[center][h3][color=993333]István Shilage[/color][/h3][/center]

[@Psyker Landshark]

[color=993333]"On loan."[/color] He repeated, nodding slowly as the beans steeped, then settled.  As ever, the rise and fall of the foam told him when things were due to finish, when the brew would reach its most delicate balance between strength and subtlety. Too far to either side, and it would tip until unrecoverable. Many things were this way in life— navigating the balance point between the two virtues. [color=993333]"Fascinating. I had never known such an arrangement to be possible— I'll have to divine how the Lady made that happen. What an oversight in my understanding."[/color]

He got what he'd expected, more or less— an answer that slotted easily into place at first or even second glance, and given with only a little pressure, a little probing. He saw no reason it didn't make sense save for the incongruence with her organization's own mission statement— and the ease with which she gave that up, in the grand scheme, did make a certain facet of him suspect this as incense thrown into the bush, to throw off hunting hounds.

The best way to dissuade questions was always to feed them an answer they expected.

But by the same token, couched within the idea was the implicit concession that, like anything else, money and influence had their ways of making inroads on even the most esoteric of organizations. Was that truly less believable?

In all instances, this was the balance point, once again. And he had somewhere to be. A game of strength and subtlety needed too to end, when it came time.

[color=993333]"You've taught me something worth remembering for future endeavors— I must extend my thanks."[/color] His smile broadened, as he began to spoon foam into the awaiting mugs that had stood quietly to witness the exchange from start to finish. [color=993333]"Tell me— would you care for a mug, or shall my silence on the matter alone suffice, as I take my leave?" [/color]