Geralt found himself relieved to be rid of his new coworkers. It seemed that he had found the upper limits of the pleasure of their company, and so was happy to see himself out once no one claimed him. He found himself craving the fire of whiskey on his tongue and the steam of hot breath in his ear, the smell of cinnamon on a woman's neck...yes, that was just what he needed after a performance to shake off the feelings of mediocrity that threatened to overtake this evening.

Cora and Illyana shared a look at Geralt's sudden lack of interest in not only Lucien, but the entire troupe. This was the most disgruntled either woman had seen him, though he did a good job at hiding it. Cora could sense the hard edge that had surrounded him, while Illyana observed just the slightest tilt in the energy of the space. It mattered more to Cora than the clairvoyant, but the mermaid was not confident enough to broach the subject, and Illyana found herself satisfied by his apparent off-kilter mood.

He quickly left the tent, not bothering to flash his trademark honey-sweet smile around to anyone before doing so. It would be a waste tonight, both of his energy and of the crew's time, apparently.

He exited swiftly and began stepping briskly toward his trailer. Nights like this, after a performance, he preferred the silence and chill of the night air, so he'd decided to walk. He was not but thirty feet from the tent when he heard the sound of Lucien's voice carrying toward him. He felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, satisfaction flooding him when he heard his name on Lucien's mouth, but this time he managed to hold it at bay. While he was very in control of his facial expressions and the words he chose to share aloud with others, he was aware that some of his foul mood may have...emanated a little too openly from him. He decided this was just fine, if it got Lucien to chase him down. His parasitic colleague apparently agreed as a darkly gruff chuckle radiated through his mind.

[i][color=crimson]He crawls back to you...[/color][/i]

Slowly, he turned and made eye contact with the Ringleader, his face expressionless for the first time since he had been in the Frenchman's presence. He said nothing until the man was finished speaking, then let out a breath which steamed on the cold night air. [color=crimson]"Ah...well, normally I would tell you that there is no need to apologize, you were only looking out for your property and the props, but I'm not sure you would accept that."[/color] He laid a hand on his chest as he spoke, his expression lightening slightly, [color=crimson]"It was prideful of me to presume that burning Ivory's silks on stage would not raise a few questions. In my defense, I only hoped to save some of the surprise for those waiting backstage as well as the patrons sitting in the stands."[/color] He paused gently here, then nodded and finished with, [color=crimson]"In the interest of ending the matter, please consider your apology accepted."[/color]

He let his eyes trail over Lucien's shoulder wistfully for a moment as he looked back toward the tent to see some of the others exiting. [color=crimson]"I wouldn't presume to guess your plans for the evening,"[/color] he said, his eyes snapping back to the Ringleader's as his carefree grin slowly returned, [color=crimson]"But I could use a walk into town and some firewater on my lips. You are free to join me, if your desires point you in my direction."[/color] He leaned forward slightly, waiting for Lucien's response as his eyes twinkled under the starlight.