It turned out no amount of criticising his choices of decor could match, in the slightest, her admission about sweets. Fortunately, Porphyria was not so sensitive, in her turn, to be offended about his brusque question about her being here. She'd not even have minded if she hadn't had a particular reason for coming in (and, admittedly, in her mind there was nothing awfully wrong with "criticising his choice of decor" as a legitimate one).
"Eh," Porphyria vocalised - especially eloquently - in answer to his question about candy of any kind, whether sour or spicy or not, and offered a grand shrug to boot. That ought to be illustration enough of her complete lack of interest in sweet treats of any kind. She had never been a dessert person. Or much of a snack person. Food was... well, she had never much appreciated the lavishness of a good dinner, dishes laid out like banquets, rich extravagances. She ate to satisfy her hunger, to survive and nothing more, and if she had to choose a favourite meal, she supposed it would be some pocketed bread and cheese to be wolfed down on a windy walk somewhere. Yes. That, she could fathom.
(Perhaps this was part of the reason she was so hostile at dinner parties.)
"Not my thing. No, I'm here to choose something for a friend," she explained airily. "Miss Dippet, actually. I may need your help," Phyri added, which she probably ought not to admit so brazenly after having spent great efforts insulting Mr. Honeyduke and his shop already.
"Eh," Porphyria vocalised - especially eloquently - in answer to his question about candy of any kind, whether sour or spicy or not, and offered a grand shrug to boot. That ought to be illustration enough of her complete lack of interest in sweet treats of any kind. She had never been a dessert person. Or much of a snack person. Food was... well, she had never much appreciated the lavishness of a good dinner, dishes laid out like banquets, rich extravagances. She ate to satisfy her hunger, to survive and nothing more, and if she had to choose a favourite meal, she supposed it would be some pocketed bread and cheese to be wolfed down on a windy walk somewhere. Yes. That, she could fathom.
(Perhaps this was part of the reason she was so hostile at dinner parties.)
"Not my thing. No, I'm here to choose something for a friend," she explained airily. "Miss Dippet, actually. I may need your help," Phyri added, which she probably ought not to admit so brazenly after having spent great efforts insulting Mr. Honeyduke and his shop already.
a sublime set by Lady! <3