( Something about Hwylryn seems to relax, though it's hard to put a finger on how or why, or whence the sense that he wasn't relaxed came from - like only recognizing a rattlesnake had been coiled only after it'd begun to slither away. )

Then, let's say we're drinking to your ambiguous devices, and I'll be patient 'til the curtain rises. I'll look forward to it.

( Hwylryn does like being surprised, so he's happy to see whatever Hickey and his imagination will wow them all with.

(The truth is, he will enjoy the utter insanity of Hickey's display - he'll just be disappointed it didn't manufacture a particularly theatrical outcome, but that disappointment will be tempered by his eventual poor attitude toward Hickey. Imagine getting a Sims (--) not actually for the deranged thing you did but for something totally minor and random in comparison,)

He swirls his glass, taking a little sippy. )

Did you want to try a little more luck to your hand? I don't know if it'll work, but . . .

( It's been something he's been curious about, since the thought happened upon him. )