“No, you just assumed, because I am trouble, that I started it.” Normally that would be true, but he wasn’t foolish enough to get banished from the one place that he held some ties to, out of pure obligation of course. He did owe the Stoner.
“I am a fantastic time. In more ways than one, but I’m certainly not offering the other way, not after you dunked me.” Unless. “Unless?” He’d scoff, laughing and waving off any attempt at an answer. “I kid. You made it perfectly clear and I’m not that much of a bastard to push, unless invited. But I won’t ever not flirt, you’re stuck with the shit talking and the dirty comments, Gramps.”
“Yeah. The majority of my generation are more than aware of how it used to be. Some folks are keen we go back ten years or more, ‘the good old days,’ except those days were never actually ‘good’ were they?” He meant it both for his own life and those in ancient times, at no point could things be completely perfect for everyone and thing at one moment in time. “People, are greedy, selfish, cruel and untrustworthy. They fear what they don’t understand, and so magic became feared and suppressed to the point that keeping ones self just ahead of losing their freedom, or very life, entirely.” He felt he was lecturing but fuck, it was deserved for ruining his high. Now Revas had to deal with the downward spiral and the disconnected thoughts and ramblings of an addled Rut’theran. “So yes, excuse an elf for having trauma. Unless it’s one of your kinks of course?” Again, the smirk of defiance, teeth caught between his teeth. “I can totally cry about how dear daddy beat my ass from noon to dusk, and whacked me behind closed doors when I muttered a ‘Foolish word,’ for asking a damn question.”
His mouth snapped shut. Every word something he had thought was an inner rambling and not his mouth running amuck with the final vocalisation, the root of his most recent spike in anxiety, drinking and excessive dabbling of late. A finger pointed at the ancient, the youngers gaze pointedly glaring at the slabs. “Do. Not. Say. Anything, about that. I… forget it.” It wasn’t a threat, but the healer had torn clean one of his wounds by his own traitorous mouth.
Ruth’s stare remained elsewhere, unwilling to look or meet the elder’s gaze, instead it bore into the walls, the floor, the fire and every where in between. “I don’t know if it’s escaped your notice, but I happen to be quite an adept healer, and scholar in my own right. I’ve served time in various places post disaster. Post. Disaster. Kirkwall, Haven twice, Adamant Fortress, the Arbor Wilds. You judge me, but you know nothing about me. We’re similar. I'd just have the decency to laugh cos, fuck, might be you are dead inside. So you’re mean.”
“I am a fantastic time. In more ways than one, but I’m certainly not offering the other way, not after you dunked me.” Unless. “Unless?” He’d scoff, laughing and waving off any attempt at an answer. “I kid. You made it perfectly clear and I’m not that much of a bastard to push, unless invited. But I won’t ever not flirt, you’re stuck with the shit talking and the dirty comments, Gramps.”
“Yeah. The majority of my generation are more than aware of how it used to be. Some folks are keen we go back ten years or more, ‘the good old days,’ except those days were never actually ‘good’ were they?” He meant it both for his own life and those in ancient times, at no point could things be completely perfect for everyone and thing at one moment in time. “People, are greedy, selfish, cruel and untrustworthy. They fear what they don’t understand, and so magic became feared and suppressed to the point that keeping ones self just ahead of losing their freedom, or very life, entirely.” He felt he was lecturing but fuck, it was deserved for ruining his high. Now Revas had to deal with the downward spiral and the disconnected thoughts and ramblings of an addled Rut’theran. “So yes, excuse an elf for having trauma. Unless it’s one of your kinks of course?” Again, the smirk of defiance, teeth caught between his teeth. “I can totally cry about how dear daddy beat my ass from noon to dusk, and whacked me behind closed doors when I muttered a ‘Foolish word,’ for asking a damn question.”
His mouth snapped shut. Every word something he had thought was an inner rambling and not his mouth running amuck with the final vocalisation, the root of his most recent spike in anxiety, drinking and excessive dabbling of late. A finger pointed at the ancient, the youngers gaze pointedly glaring at the slabs. “Do. Not. Say. Anything, about that. I… forget it.” It wasn’t a threat, but the healer had torn clean one of his wounds by his own traitorous mouth.
Ruth’s stare remained elsewhere, unwilling to look or meet the elder’s gaze, instead it bore into the walls, the floor, the fire and every where in between. “I don’t know if it’s escaped your notice, but I happen to be quite an adept healer, and scholar in my own right. I’ve served time in various places post disaster. Post. Disaster. Kirkwall, Haven twice, Adamant Fortress, the Arbor Wilds. You judge me, but you know nothing about me. We’re similar. I'd just have the decency to laugh cos, fuck, might be you are dead inside. So you’re mean.”
03-02-2024, 04:13 PM
