There is a notable surprise from him for the action, but only for a moment before amusement slips back in.
Trust Lucifer to make Istredd impulsive.
Remember that the next time I screw up. Because it will happen, there's no doubt.
But he's going to hold Istredd to it if he waffles around the time they can go to Nocwich. Truthfully Lucifer doesn't particularly want to go either for the same reasons, for just how much he was itching to leave Nocwich the last time and return to Thorne. But the Hunting Grounds is how he keeps at the top of his game and maybe get a few extra coin for sliding ingredients in to someone under the table.
He has to go, might as well make sure Istredd has a reward for Getting Out and going with him.
"This area is sounding... kind of familiar. I think it's around here somewhere--hey," he pauses to catch someone passing by, "we're looking for the late Morain's family home?" The first person he asks shrugs him off and keeps walking, the second still shrugs him off but waves to a few homes down, a faded blue-painted home, darkening closer to brown from wear and like whoever put it together built two separate projects and squashed them together to make one. "Thanks," Lucifer says, but the figure it already ducked away and gone.
He trusts Istredd to back him up in whatever situation he gets him in, so he is first to knock, half expecting it to actually be the wrong house and whatever street urchin was just trolling him, but an exhausted woman does open the door.
"Ah, hi," he says, deliberately faltering. For all his unease sounding, Istredd will only feel confidence shining through. "Sorry to bother you, I'm not sure we have the right place--your husband, was it Morain? The fisherman?"
Her expression is neutral, but her tone is cautious. "Yes, that's right."
"I'm sorry. That's it's taken so long for me to get here. I--I was on the boat, with him. He was helping me."
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Trust Lucifer to make Istredd impulsive.
Remember that the next time I screw up. Because it will happen, there's no doubt.
But he's going to hold Istredd to it if he waffles around the time they can go to Nocwich. Truthfully Lucifer doesn't particularly want to go either for the same reasons, for just how much he was itching to leave Nocwich the last time and return to Thorne. But the Hunting Grounds is how he keeps at the top of his game and maybe get a few extra coin for sliding ingredients in to someone under the table.
He has to go, might as well make sure Istredd has a reward for Getting Out and going with him.
"This area is sounding... kind of familiar. I think it's around here somewhere--hey," he pauses to catch someone passing by, "we're looking for the late Morain's family home?" The first person he asks shrugs him off and keeps walking, the second still shrugs him off but waves to a few homes down, a faded blue-painted home, darkening closer to brown from wear and like whoever put it together built two separate projects and squashed them together to make one. "Thanks," Lucifer says, but the figure it already ducked away and gone.
He trusts Istredd to back him up in whatever situation he gets him in, so he is first to knock, half expecting it to actually be the wrong house and whatever street urchin was just trolling him, but an exhausted woman does open the door.
"Ah, hi," he says, deliberately faltering. For all his unease sounding, Istredd will only feel confidence shining through. "Sorry to bother you, I'm not sure we have the right place--your husband, was it Morain? The fisherman?"
Her expression is neutral, but her tone is cautious. "Yes, that's right."
"I'm sorry. That's it's taken so long for me to get here. I--I was on the boat, with him. He was helping me."