Darian grinned a wide, mad grin. "Liar." Tappy's long brown fingers on the plump green grapes were a déjà vu of drunken nights and first kisses, and he thought about stealing one from him as he'd done then. The setting was just right, but they were all wrong - or Tappy was all wrong - not drunk, for one. They'd come a long way but Darian still doubted he'd have much success showing Tappy how to tie grape stems unless there was alcohol involved. Though he had a million bottles about, the other man probably had some stupid rule about not drinking before ten o'clock in the morning. Most people did, because they were spoilsports whose parents had loved them too much.

He laughed, liking Tappy's comment. His smile and the sideways look he gave Tappy spoke to his approval, a subconscious bit of peacock preening that had him happily running a finger down his robe where one brocade panel crossed under the other and disappeared into the sash. He shrugged, mind having turned back to Dolly and Dom again. "Who's to say? She's said all this so many times before."

Dominik Wiedman had very little appeal as far as he could see other than the obvious charms of a muscled brooding tall-dark-and-handsome professional Quidditch player. Dolly could pick another. There were whole teams of them. But for whatever reason, she wanted this one. Darian didn't understand it, that was for sure. He'd tried to at least make some profit off of all her flip-flopping, but no one would take the bet with him.

"I can't see most of them turning up for this sort of thing, honestly. I assume Miss Bildaeu-Yukawa is about, but..."

"Well, all right," he admitted. "I only encountered the one. And I already knew him. But it was such an encounter, Tapendra, really. I think Gale would have had me back on the ground of that alley if he could have."

He leaned in, his voice taking on that hushed, airy quality distinctive to the imparting of scandalous gossip. Tappy was going to get an earful whether he wanted one or not, courtesy of the fact that he actually knew those whom Darian intended to gossip about and, of course, simply because he was here - but that had been a given from the moment he'd entered the tent.

"I may have charmed his beau. Accidentally, of course! I had no way to know the two were involved, and Chaz was very adamant about forgetting he'd ever had anything to do with the man." Darian gave a dismissive wave of his hand, warming to the topic. "Can't say I blame the chap. Unfortunately, Gale was less forgiving." Ah, he was well-used to taking the blame in such situations. It was much easier to point fingers at the rake with the arm snaked 'round one's girlfriend's waist than notice that said girlfriend was clinging right back. Though he might have expected better of Chaz, who had only just snuck his hand up Darian's blazer and whispered that he was free, he was too much of a cynic to be surprised by that outcome either.

It was such a shame. Chaz had had so much potential - blue eyes, a pretty smile, a nice bloke just begging to be dirtied up a bit. But Darian wouldn't be barking up that tree any more, not unless he wanted a repeat performance of the flashing and the hissing and the spitting little tomcat. While that had been interesting in its own way too, he was still mindful of the fact that he really didn't know how Gale had taken down those men in the alley. Presumably, the kitten had claws.

"For someone once so attentive to my beautiful face, he certainly has no qualms about breaking it again. I would rather have seen Maiko." His expression took on a bit of a winsome air. "She owls me pastries, you know." He'd gotten a whole load of them a week or two after the alley incident, and they'd been delicious. She was definitely the best ex-girlfriends he'd ever had. Well, one of the best.

Tapendra wasn't sure what he'd been lying about, exactly. Well - he was lying about his comfort level, but that was just being polite, wasn't it? It was a socially acceptable lie. He looked at Darian in confusion a moment, but the man's laugh dispelled the confusion some.

His eyes automatically followed Darian's hand as it stroked down his robe. He blinked, realizing what he was doing, and suddenly the grapes were really interesting. He'd skipped breakfast, intending to eat here, so eating more grapes wasn't an issue...and certainly was a nice distraction from preening tailors and their flashy brocades.

Darian's words about Dolly were true, and he sighed, shaking his head. "Let me have hope, will you? She was the least..." It was hard to describe, but due to it being difficult and him trying to maintain some level pf privacy for his old friend. "She seemed the least upset about it I've ever seen her, I suppose. Acceptance, rather than anger. If that makes sense." He shrugged - it probably didn't. Description had never been his strong suit.

"Kesali?" He asked for confirmation, looking at Darian with his eyebrows raised as he told his tale, a smile spreading after a moment. It wasn't a nice smile, per-say. The term rueful applied best, and he let out a short laugh when Darian finished. "He's a strange one, that's for sure," he said, shaking his head. He had to wonder a bit at who this beau was - Kesali seemed to change personalities so rapidly he hardly fell into a type. Perhaps as a fix-er-up, he thought, though that was a rather nasty thought and he knew it...and not just because the idea fixing people upset him.

He looked at Darian questioningly. The man seemed fine - but he'd also seen the spells the tailor had layered in the Hospital Hut that had made him seem fine then, too. "You alright?" The idea of Maiko sending pastries seemed...very much like Maiko, really.

"Hmm." Darian took this as the valuable scrap of info it was. Dolly was a multi-faceted woman, and he couldn't always catch each of her sides. It had been a good while since she'd sighed over Dominic to him. She must be someplace else, mentally, than she'd been before. "Well, maybe you heard a different side of things. Isn't the last stage acceptance?"

This was so old hat as to hardly be worth the game anymore. He'd had a little fun winding her up about it the last time they'd talked, but it was all too familiar, too boring. Will-she-or-won't-she, read all about it in the tabloids, that Dominic Wiedman must have one mighty prick to make up for the fact that he was such a mighty prick. Wasn't that the poor chap struck out all the time, it was just that he really seemed to lack the sense God had given a goldfish when it came to women. Darian would've taken him aside years ago to give him a nice easy-to-remember numbered list of how to treat a woman like Dolly except he got the impression Wiedman didn't like him very much and, well, why help the competition.

"He's a strange one, that's for sure."

"Bizarrest thing I've ever seen." Darian spread his hands like a stage magician, still animated enough. "One minute he was all flash and fire, the next - " He snapped sharply - "Calm. I tell you, Hogwarts staff are some of the most fascinating people I've ever met." Hidden depths and dark pasts, every one, emotionally constipated right cross the board. Except Maiko, of course, darling girl.

He waved Tappy's concerns away easily. "Of course! What was he going to do to me surrounded by people? Such a worrier you are."

The grapes made a healthy and ripe pop sound as he bit into them. It had been a long time since he'd had grapes quite this fresh, and for some reason the quality of them seemed enhanced by Darian's presence. He wasn't sure how that worked, exactly, but Darian seemed to have a way of making everything in the room about him more...dramatic. Grand, perhaps.

He simply shook his head in response to Darian's comment on Dolly, the gesture noncommittal. He was going to keep his trust in Dolly, he'd decided. Come what may - she was his friend, and he had faith in her, especially after their conversation the night before.

He put down the sprig of grapes, now utterly empty. He really ought at have eaten ahead of time, he decided. Grapes or not, he was still hungry.

"Oh, I don't know," he said, smiling wryly. "He could have spilled wine on your nice suit. Called you a cad, even." As much as he was joking, he had to admit he wasn't really sure what Kesali would or could have done. He wasn't unhinged enough to start something in front of a crowd, Tapendra assumed. The man was certainly over emotional and dramatic, but he wasn't stupid, was he?

"How do you know Miss Bildaeu-Yukawa?" He asked, folding his hands in his lap, eyebrow raised curiously. "You speak of her very fondly."

"Oh, he said enough," Darian remarked, more amused in the retelling than anything else. Gale must have talked to someone, one of his old flings, between their fitting and this weekend, and he'd made his new opinions clear. Given that, Darian doubted he'd see Gale again if the other man could help it. "Libertine suits are made of strong stuff. I assume you figured that out the first time you spilled something on yours." He arched an eyebrow at Tappy knowingly.

The eyebrow stayed up a moment longer when he noticed how Tappy had torn through the grapes, the other rising to join it with his eyes perfect O's of exaggerated astonishment and his lips pursed tight. "What an appetite you have this morning!" he announced. His face fell, another expression perfectly drawn like a theatre mime to convey exactly what he wished. "I suppose I should let you go. Join civilization. Eat real food. All that." He rose gracefully but intentionally, the lines of his body still bent into dramatic woe. He was only missing the back of his wrist pressed sadly to his forehead, and indeed his hand rose languidly as if to complete the picture when he abruptly turned and swept towards the back of the tent.

"I suppose I'll join you, though it's so early." Seen now only from behind, his shoulders heaved up and down in a terrific sigh. He disappeared behind one of the trailing curtains in the still-dim back corner. The last thing to fade from view like the Cheshire cat's smile was his white hand in the red light, reaching out to snag a shirt off the chair. Then came the light swish of moving fabric, the thump of heavy silk hitting the ground. A pair of trousers sailed past Tappy's head to be whisked behind the curtain too. Darian kept talking though because, of course, why would he stop.

"You don't know?" The reply was mostly laughter. He popped his head briefly around the curtain to stick Tappy with a coy, amazed stare. "We dated for a while."

Tapendra looked at Darian in surprise at his words, his expression one of mild panic mixed with guilt. How did he know? He'd done a good job of cleaning that suit, he thought -

Or the tea spill just minutes before could have cued him in. Naturally.

"Err, you don't, um, have to -" He'd managed, but Darian's dramatics rather dampened any protest he might have managed. He watched the man, unsure how he should feel - had he caused offense? Was Darian just playing with him? The coy grin (and the set of trousers that dragged across his shoulder and made him jump) made the second option quite a bit more likely.

Rubbing the back of his head and rather unsure what to do with himself (and trying to ignore the quiet sound of fabric as Darian changed) Tapendra instead chose to study the intricate patterns on the nearby couch cushions. He did take a moment to roll his eyes at Darian whining about the time, his tone amused. "It's mid-morning, Darian. I've been up since 4am."

He looked up as Darian popped his head out, blinking in surprise. Darian hadn't struck him as a match for the counselor, though...well, he didn't know Maiko well enough to hazard a guess, did he? And they weren't still together, so, perhaps his instinct was right after all.

"Ended well, then?" He asked, standing up and brushing his trousers off.

"Four AM?" Darian's voice rose sharply from behind the curtain, the horror in his tone completely unfeigned. "What on earth did you get up then for? I hadn't even gone to sleep yet!" He spluttered himself into silence with only the occasional grumble, quickly concentrating on his dressing though he needn't really bother. This posh breakfast was no match for his wardrobe as he was frequently overdressed, and it would be quite interesting this morning not to be the only one.

It didn't take long to do up all the buttons and make himself presentable, his fingers flying over the knot of his pale green tie. Well, that was no way to think about it - he had been presentable before too. He'd just been a different kind of present.

"Most amicably," he agreed, strolling out from behind the curtain in the dove grey trousers that had slithered over Tappy earlier and a navy dress shirt. He rummaged in a lacquer cabinet for a pair of cufflinks and toed on a pair of shoes at the same time, then snagged a matching jacket from the overburdened chair. "Shall we?" he asked with a debonair smile, slinging the blazer over his shoulder and striding for the tent flap.