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Having seen Io flirt countless times, Zevemar considered himself something of an expert at spotting the techniques; there was the flattery, the tantalisingly ambiguous suggestions, the promising wink… he’d seen them all. But what Zev’s ‘expertise’ had in no way prepared him for was having said techniques used on him, so while he knew exactly what the other Half-Elf was doing, he nevertheless blushed deeply, though in his case he went a darker shade of green rather than red.

Even so, Zev tried his best to keep up an icy facade.

“Uh… HORUS, that’s an unusual name, I’ve not…” He quickly stuttered to a halt and looked desperately to Io to bail him out.

Iolanthe arched an eyebrow at Zev that said, wordlessly, ‘Are you serious?’ The half-orc had been doing fine––better than fine with those lightning-fast retorts––until the charm was turned on. Though she thought him immune to come-hither eyes, apparently that was not the case.

In spite of a sudden desperate wish to be anywhere else, there was no ignoring the pleading glance sent her way. Never let it be said she wasn’t merciful and benevolent. Io blinked owlishly at the elf flirting with her best friend, all batted eyelashes and salacious winks, and feigned innocence. “Is there something in your eye? A lash, or something. It happens to me all the time.”