( he's pretty casual for a king, even if his speech patterns are more ye olde than dick is used to. it's alright -- he's fondly reminded of auntie diana when he speaks, proper to his modern ears, but likely something that would get him scorned by nursery grade teachers back in his own world. dick stares at the bottles for a few moments before rising to the task, smelling them, tasting the one that smells the best. nice nice.
he flits about other bottles and various mixers, making something up in his head -- it's a lot like chemistry, to him, except in the end you get to drink it, instead of blowing something up. while he plays around, he speaks to rafa, flickering his gaze over his shoulder. )
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he flits about other bottles and various mixers, making something up in his head -- it's a lot like chemistry, to him, except in the end you get to drink it, instead of blowing something up. while he plays around, he speaks to rafa, flickering his gaze over his shoulder. )
You heard about Gotham, did you?