[Stephen's own agitation, when it flares, is less like a fire and more like an ember that sometimes burns, but mostly agitates. There's not much to keep it going, and not much that will transform it into a proper conflagration, unless some poor fool actually sets all his books on fire, or knocks over his alchemy set onto the ground like a clumsy cat.
Thankfully, no one has been unwise enough (or lacking so much spatial awareness) to manage that yet.
When the young man shuffles closer, Stephen considers him for a moment; a newcomer, probably, or else he's just missed his face an inordinate amount of times around the castle. One is a lot more likely than the other.]
If you could manage that, I'd actually be impressed.
[Stephen picks the book up with scarred hands, his casual treatment of the massive tome either proof of his exhaustion, or familiarity with handling such wildly arcane objects.]
no subject
Thankfully, no one has been unwise enough (or lacking so much spatial awareness) to manage that yet.
When the young man shuffles closer, Stephen considers him for a moment; a newcomer, probably, or else he's just missed his face an inordinate amount of times around the castle. One is a lot more likely than the other.]
If you could manage that, I'd actually be impressed.
[Stephen picks the book up with scarred hands, his casual treatment of the massive tome either proof of his exhaustion, or familiarity with handling such wildly arcane objects.]
Go nuts.