[ It's been like six days since they'd met and here Sampo is, carelessly waving every red flag he has in his arsenal in Elysium's face. It's almost impressive, really, the many ways in which he's expressed them. Know him bit by bit, he says, like there's singular "him" to know.

Anyway. Time alone? Context matters. And how much time? Undefined. The optics of a host disappearing in the middle of their own party is ridiculous—and how they're surrounded by so many of their teammates that it'd they'd be pressed not to take notice of something going on. ]

It's a good thing, then, that I'm not a feline! [ He'd said in no uncertain words that he wasn't willing to gamble his life, hadn't he? Whether Sampo intends it in the literal or figurative sense, Elysium considers them both nearly as important—and this will be him holding himself accountable. ] But I don't think that's quite what you want to say if you want to continue claiming to be tame.

[ And there it is: verbal acknowledgement of what they'd been doing and that they're toeing is a precarious line. Several times already, Sampo has willingly brought up the objectionable that Elysium is willing to ignore so long as it goes unaddressed. What a guy. ]

That's a little mean of you. Already thinking about the end when we'd only just become friends. We could exhaust our finite amount of cards eventually, or——we could not. I'm just looking for a little fun along the way.

[ Like a bird about to take flight: ]

I know we toasted to a new venture, but your analogies have been a bit much, haven't they?