~wanted me to drink more water."

Stares a moment longer, then he offers the bottle to him.

"Tastes like ice to me."

He's really going to make him break the bank here.

"...3,200,000."

SQUINT.

"...little higher than I wanted to go but... 3,000,000."

BALKING--

"Since when can the hostess bid? 2,000,000."

Wriothesley can and will go bankrupt, is that what he wants?

"700,000."

Neuvillette has known him for how long now? And he's curious to see how far he's going to go?

"....600,000."

Now he's getting a full squint.

"...350,000."

That's okay, Warren-- Wriothesley, is not here to play.
(...well he is but still).

"...200,000."

Side eyes.
He will go higher if he has to.

He's staring DEAD ahead, arms folding over his chest.

"Ninety thousand."

"Seventy thousand."

Do not ask why he's cutting in, just do it.

~...the flowers are nice though, he's never seen these ones before.

...maybe he'll pose some in one of his display boxes with his new atlas moth.

~his shoulders and draping it over his arm as he finally turns to face Neuvillette.

"...course this is the pot calling the kettle black here but I digress..." He gestures vaguely to Neuvillette. "...I'm not the one being hunted by an Abyssal creature leading a crazed group of cultists."

~"𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒐𝒇𝒇..."

Ottavio takes a deep breath then, pulling the mask off his face and pushing his hood down at the same time, the back of Wriothesley's head now visible.

"...I keep telling you to stop, but you don't know how to listen either." He huffs, shrugging the cloak off~

~𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒐𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒉𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆." He spits, letting his cloak hang open on his body now, only vaguely angling his head to speak again, words Neuvillette might find a touch more... familiar.~

~Neuvillette's desk with a hiss.

"𝑯𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒐𝒄𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆?" He growls out again, dropping the files on Neuvillette's desk as he starts to unfasten his cloak.

"𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒈𝒏𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇~