This wasn't the first time his cheek had gotten him in trouble with authorities (well, not that Elsie was an authoritative figure, though she seemed to be doing a superb job of practicing for it with him and Kirk as her targets) and he had the decency to look abashed as he took Kirke's hand. He'd opened his mouth to make about the same apology when Elsie snapped back at Kirke and Sebastian promptly shut his mouth again. From the way Elsie was staring daggers at her husband, Sebastian wasn't about to risk the same.

He watched Elsie stalk into the kitchen and shut the door before giving Kirke an aggrieved look. "For the love of Merlin, just give me your hand, Kirke," he demanded, his hand still out stretched as he took his wand out. He was still only slightly smug that Kirke's hand had gotten injured in the altercation. Only slightly. "I'm not going to make fungus sprout from beneath your fingernails or anything."

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Something better than that? Merlin, they’d tried, wasn’t that enough! Performing Shakespeare plays in the park several years ago notwithstanding, Tyb wasn’t an actor... or, at least, not good enough an actor to pretend to be friends with Sebastian Beauregard right now.

But being friends with someone who thought so little of him was less injurious to Tybalt than the prospect of Elsie being annoyed with him, in the long run. By the sounds of it, she was ready to hold a grudge over it, so... Tyb’s mouth twisted, recalcitrant, but the rest of him was softening.

“Alright,” Tybalt bit out at last, glad Elsie was out of the room because it had still come out partially snappish... But Tyb relaxed his stance, offered his hand, and peered at Elsie’s cousin with a newly grateful look. “I probably deserve a bit of fingernail fungus about now,” he admitted wryly: a peace offering, of sorts. He lowered his tone, ducked a little closer, and dearly hoped Sebastian wouldn’t snitch on him for this, else Tybalt fully expected to get thrown out of the house entirely. “Is it just me, or is this pregnancy giving Elsie all kinds of rage she didn’t have before?”

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"We likely both do," Sebastian returned, his lips flattening into another line as he muttered the spell to repair Kirke's hand. "And are lucky either she forgot the incantation for such a spell, doesn't know it, or flat out won't use it against us." Although, the healer thought grimly, if Elsie wouldn't use it, he shuddered to think what her threshold was for their idiocy. His wand rapped Kirke's knuckles and after a brief pop! his hand was repaired like new.

Sebastian almost leaned away instinctively as he caught Kirke sidling closer out of the corner of his eye. His jaw may have done more damage to Kirke's hand, but that didn't mean he wasn't searching for another punch in the back of his mind. But no, instead Kirke's tone was almost conspiratorial with a hint of sarcasm. Hrm. That was new.

Had he been more in his right mind - and hated Kirke more - Sebastian would have likely been the one to throw the next punch for Kirke's amount of cheek. But as it was, he a) wasn't in the mood for another fight, and b) couldn't ignore the truth in the man's words. So instead, Sebastian settled on a withering stare at first, but forgot to get rid of the begrudging twitch of a grin that followed. "We'd better hope we're not on the receiving end of it again."

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The following 2 users Like Sebastian Beauregard's post:2 users Like Sebastian Beauregard's post
   Elias Grimstone, Elsie Kirke