Skulduggery hadn't taken a cab since they were still pulled by horses.
Well, that wasn't technically true, but for the purposes of being quietly upset about this development, Skulduggery chose to believe it as he slid into the taxi. Being driven around by people he didn't know and didn't usually like was something the detective habitually tried to avoid. Not because of any paranoia, but because he quite simply didn't like it. It didn't sit well with him. It didn't befit the stature of a detecting sorcerer, especially when he owned such a wonderful car himself.
In Gabe's eagerness to tease Skulduggery, had the angel even paused to think that between the three of them right now, all they had was twenty cents? Probably not. Luckily for Gabriel and Fletcher, Skulduggery had been thinking that far ahead from the beginning.
He relayed Myron Stray's address to the cabbie as the other two piled in after him, and when the taxi slowly pulled out into traffic, Skulduggery sank back into the padded seat with his arms folded. "I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with H."
~~
Ghastly was so sure for a split second the bus had stopped completely that he felt himself jerking back a little bit when the scenery of Dublin didn't stop flashing by the window outside.
Making a connection, realising who you were talking to, struggling to say anything - it all paled in comparison to how Ghastly suddenly felt when God, far from continuing his surprisingly comforting charade, dropped the act. Dropped the act and spoke suddenly quite frankly. Directly. Depositing shattering bombshells of ideas into Ghastly's lap with nothing more than a gentle smile.
The tailor had to face forward again, one white hand supporting his weight against the seat in front of him as the bus did come to a bit of a jerking halt. His mind didn't freeze this time, alongside the bus. It surged ahead with a sudden and startling clarity, racing through Ghastly's considerably long list of memories, trying to pinpoint if there was ever a time he spoke to someone who seemed much too helpful. The problem was, he completely disregarded people like that as soon as the meeting was over. Which, come to think of it, was probably the entire point.
And then matching wits.
Matching wits.
"Wouldn't be much of a match," Ghastly muttered aloud. There really wasn't any point in hiding anything he was thinking, was there? The only point to even speaking out loud was to ask questions, and that was solely to try and put Ghastly at ease. Or, well. Slightly less discomfort, anyway.
"It may have been undermining," Ghastly finally answered the earlier question slowly, "but Skul was the one who had to pick up the pieces. He's... not going to be happy if he finds out you're here, and weren't there." Somehow, the proven existence of God was something that struck Ghastly as a small inconvenience for Skulduggery. That the skeleton detective would move smoothly past it and demand answers. He barely believed in Archangels yet, and he was good friends with one. The bond the two of them had... honestly, no wonder people like Thurid Guild believed that -
- they were very, very good friends, and nothing else.
no subject
Well, that wasn't technically true, but for the purposes of being quietly upset about this development, Skulduggery chose to believe it as he slid into the taxi. Being driven around by people he didn't know and didn't usually like was something the detective habitually tried to avoid. Not because of any paranoia, but because he quite simply didn't like it. It didn't sit well with him. It didn't befit the stature of a detecting sorcerer, especially when he owned such a wonderful car himself.
In Gabe's eagerness to tease Skulduggery, had the angel even paused to think that between the three of them right now, all they had was twenty cents? Probably not. Luckily for Gabriel and Fletcher, Skulduggery had been thinking that far ahead from the beginning.
He relayed Myron Stray's address to the cabbie as the other two piled in after him, and when the taxi slowly pulled out into traffic, Skulduggery sank back into the padded seat with his arms folded. "I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with H."
~~
Ghastly was so sure for a split second the bus had stopped completely that he felt himself jerking back a little bit when the scenery of Dublin didn't stop flashing by the window outside.
Making a connection, realising who you were talking to, struggling to say anything - it all paled in comparison to how Ghastly suddenly felt when God, far from continuing his surprisingly comforting charade, dropped the act. Dropped the act and spoke suddenly quite frankly. Directly. Depositing shattering bombshells of ideas into Ghastly's lap with nothing more than a gentle smile.
The tailor had to face forward again, one white hand supporting his weight against the seat in front of him as the bus did come to a bit of a jerking halt. His mind didn't freeze this time, alongside the bus. It surged ahead with a sudden and startling clarity, racing through Ghastly's considerably long list of memories, trying to pinpoint if there was ever a time he spoke to someone who seemed much too helpful. The problem was, he completely disregarded people like that as soon as the meeting was over. Which, come to think of it, was probably the entire point.
And then matching wits.
Matching wits.
"Wouldn't be much of a match," Ghastly muttered aloud. There really wasn't any point in hiding anything he was thinking, was there? The only point to even speaking out loud was to ask questions, and that was solely to try and put Ghastly at ease. Or, well. Slightly less discomfort, anyway.
"It may have been undermining," Ghastly finally answered the earlier question slowly, "but Skul was the one who had to pick up the pieces. He's... not going to be happy if he finds out you're here, and weren't there." Somehow, the proven existence of God was something that struck Ghastly as a small inconvenience for Skulduggery. That the skeleton detective would move smoothly past it and demand answers. He barely believed in Archangels yet, and he was good friends with one. The bond the two of them had... honestly, no wonder people like Thurid Guild believed that -
- they were very, very good friends, and nothing else.