"Sure, and repeatedly." Chase's cheeky grin makes a reappearance. Everyone had loved him. Hell, even everyone's parents had loved him, every teacher and coach and busybody waitress. All the little, tiny, utterly insignificant people, and always until it was just a little too late. It might be the magic, he doesn't really know. It might just have been the money and the way he used to bat his lashes to get what he wanted. Probably a little of both, honestly.

In any case, he hasn't bothered with the public face here that had once endeared people to him so easily at home. What does he have to hide, after all? Half the people can do stranger things than magic, and all of them are murderers by the end of their first mission. "Though, not lately. Maybe you should tell me more often."

He waves a finger in Jack's direction, and the ring that had been on his middle finger dissolves into a puff of smoke, only to appear unblemished loose around the tip of Chase's. He runs his thumb over the design, certainly not apologizing for the unceremonious displacement. "You've got a collection of saps." He rolls the ring over his knuckles. "Almost as big as your collection of rings."

That's an exaggeration. Jack has a ridiculous number of rings, considering where they are and what they do.