"Psh." Dexter waved a careless hand. "You tread on eggshells way too much. His control's better than that. Or maybe I'm just a masochist."
Masochist. Let's go with masochist, said a voice in his head which sounded exactly like Rover Larrikin. Of course it did. It was a very Rover thing to say. Dexter chose to ignore it, because he wasn't, after all, Descry and couldn't hear voices.
"One of them will tease the Holy out of Skulduggery," Dexter said, "just because he can. Or she can, or whatever." He scowled, but it was a self-mocking scowl. "He turned into a woman and sat on my lap just to make me squeak. And the other one took away my voice just because, and waited until I begged them in prayer before giving it back. That's what kind of angels they are. They're teasing angels. They're mischief angels. They can't be trusted."
"Well, they can't be trusted to not paint Dublin red, anyway," said Corrival, "and I've seen the other one make worried pouty eyes at Skulduggery like you wouldn't believe. Gabriel's got him wrapped around his pinkie."
Dexter was too busy laughing his head off to react properly to Tanith and Valkyrie's entrance. He and Erskine had, in fact, had very similar discussion about that very same topic. It figured Saracen would think of it too. "You'll need to ask the Prophet over there about that," he said to Saracen, getting a hold of himself. "Apparently he can see them. Interacting. Soulfully. The voyeur. Hey, Tanith. Hi, Val. What'd you do to Tipstaff?"
Corrival sighed. "And Tipstaff wonders why I never get any work done."
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Masochist. Let's go with masochist, said a voice in his head which sounded exactly like Rover Larrikin. Of course it did. It was a very Rover thing to say. Dexter chose to ignore it, because he wasn't, after all, Descry and couldn't hear voices.
"One of them will tease the Holy out of Skulduggery," Dexter said, "just because he can. Or she can, or whatever." He scowled, but it was a self-mocking scowl. "He turned into a woman and sat on my lap just to make me squeak. And the other one took away my voice just because, and waited until I begged them in prayer before giving it back. That's what kind of angels they are. They're teasing angels. They're mischief angels. They can't be trusted."
"Well, they can't be trusted to not paint Dublin red, anyway," said Corrival, "and I've seen the other one make worried pouty eyes at Skulduggery like you wouldn't believe. Gabriel's got him wrapped around his pinkie."
Dexter was too busy laughing his head off to react properly to Tanith and Valkyrie's entrance. He and Erskine had, in fact, had very similar discussion about that very same topic. It figured Saracen would think of it too. "You'll need to ask the Prophet over there about that," he said to Saracen, getting a hold of himself. "Apparently he can see them. Interacting. Soulfully. The voyeur. Hey, Tanith. Hi, Val. What'd you do to Tipstaff?"
Corrival sighed. "And Tipstaff wonders why I never get any work done."