[ Lucius takes the beaker nearly before it is even offered. He scarcely even notices or thinks of the irritating way Fabius raises himself up above him, and for the way the final joint of each of his fingers has been completely encased by his hard, dark claws, his touch seems no less dexterous for it as he holds the container aloft. ]

Enjoy it? I'd be devastated if you asked anyone else. [ Or, more accurately, throw a tantrum. He spins on his heel, smiling to himself as he watches that find powder sift back and forth with the subtle movements of his hand. ]

It's just as well, brother. This is the stuff that keeps our menials happy. [ And it's the most convenient to share and to sell, at least for right now. Lucius lowers the beaker and lifts his eyes to his brother's at last, gold and sharp red gleaming with his excitement. ] But so much as your concern touches me, you have nothing to worry about. I rather expect my typical dose would turn this body into a corpse!

[ He laughs, and though the fact would typically irritate him, in the moment, it is funny. He pivots from Fabius, and he doesn't care much about looking for a clean surface—just one that may be easily cleared. ]