"Yes you did!" Erskine insisted. "I remember you did. I'm the one who bought the make-up for you."
They'd been talking for a good hour by now, in the same room as before, with Erskine intermittently working on his paperwork as he told stories - a process made much faster and more efficient by the use of the blasted triplicating spell he now knew existed. There was an unspoken effort among the three of them - Corrival, Erskine, and Skulduggery - to at least try and highlight the good parts of magic, and the good stories, before Mr. and Mrs. Edgley left for the night. Valkyrie was enjoying them too, of course. Any self-respecting teenager enjoyed embarrassing stories about the mentors they looked up to. And it certainly wasn't going unappreciated by her parents.
"Granted," Erskine told Desmond and Melissa with a large grin at the fond memory, "he ended up just wearing a painted mask for three weeks, but Dexter decided to experiment with his skull anyway. It was wonderful. We paraded him around without a disguise at the next festival, and everyone assumed he was wearing some sort of full-head mask."
"You're joking," Valkyrie said, despite the grin splitting her own face in two.
"Cross my heart and hope to die. 19th century, unfortunately. No cameras yet. But he'd been missing for five years before that. How did he expect us to react?"
"Now that just goes to show how detrimental being away from us for five years was. Remember the day after that festival, Skul? We all showed up to the next debriefing wearing make-up identical to his, because we took pity on his complaining so much. That was the first time I think I ever saw Corrival actually falter during a speech. Meritorious was speechless. Doubled over laughing, I think."
It was the same debriefing where Skulduggery announced his relinquishment of his family crest, upon seeing the embossed symbol on the document. Erskine knew why now. He was glad he hadn't known at the time, or this wouldn't have made nearly as funny a story.
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"Yes you did!" Erskine insisted. "I remember you did. I'm the one who bought the make-up for you."
They'd been talking for a good hour by now, in the same room as before, with Erskine intermittently working on his paperwork as he told stories - a process made much faster and more efficient by the use of the blasted triplicating spell he now knew existed. There was an unspoken effort among the three of them - Corrival, Erskine, and Skulduggery - to at least try and highlight the good parts of magic, and the good stories, before Mr. and Mrs. Edgley left for the night. Valkyrie was enjoying them too, of course. Any self-respecting teenager enjoyed embarrassing stories about the mentors they looked up to. And it certainly wasn't going unappreciated by her parents.
"Granted," Erskine told Desmond and Melissa with a large grin at the fond memory, "he ended up just wearing a painted mask for three weeks, but Dexter decided to experiment with his skull anyway. It was wonderful. We paraded him around without a disguise at the next festival, and everyone assumed he was wearing some sort of full-head mask."
"You're joking," Valkyrie said, despite the grin splitting her own face in two.
"Cross my heart and hope to die. 19th century, unfortunately. No cameras yet. But he'd been missing for five years before that. How did he expect us to react?"
"Like mature soldiers, perhaps?" Skulduggery suggested.
"Now that just goes to show how detrimental being away from us for five years was. Remember the day after that festival, Skul? We all showed up to the next debriefing wearing make-up identical to his, because we took pity on his complaining so much. That was the first time I think I ever saw Corrival actually falter during a speech. Meritorious was speechless. Doubled over laughing, I think."
It was the same debriefing where Skulduggery announced his relinquishment of his family crest, upon seeing the embossed symbol on the document. Erskine knew why now. He was glad he hadn't known at the time, or this wouldn't have made nearly as funny a story.