Casper barely has time to give Wilde a glance and a welcoming nod of acknowledgment before the conversation (which had been, he had to admit, moderately helpful) deteriorates into a game. It happens before he can even protest and his dark eyes move from Cameron to Iliya to Ulysses to Wilde, narrowing. "I'm not drunk and I'm not telling you," he snaps, though he doesn't rise to make any kind of escape attempt just yet.