"Ugh," Istredd grumbles, wrinkling his nose at the concept of being a socialite. But. He more or less has become closer to one these days. Teaching and researching has provided him with some standing and he is very good at seeming polite about everything Thorne while privately harboring as much hate as Lucifer.

Maybe he did pick up enough from his upbringing to not do so terrible in a court. He dislikes that, but it's useful. "Maybe, though." He can be friendly enough to get information about clothes. They can just continue to get clothes from Thorne but Istredd is a mage. He looks for ways magic can be useful, always.

"Good idea, I've never had to wash blood off, you may have to scrub my back." He's teasing. It's the truth though. Unless you count when he came back from the Pit, so covered in blood and dirt and mud that he couldn't really bathe himself well at all. They had to clean out his infected wound, it was unpleasant. But that's the closest to gross he's been here.

"Your training paid off. I told you I was paying attention." Not that Lucifer would allow anything else, but Istredd tried.