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contact part deux
if this were modern times byerly would probably make you listen to total eclipse of the heart before you were able to leave a message
[ Bastien opens his mouth to answer, then shuts it, looking into the middle distance with a contemplative glaze. Not a bad thought. Except— ]
No. No, I could only break his heart, and if he had your eyes it would wreck me to do it.
[ Any sincerity at the core of that is wrapped in a thick layer of jovial teasing. ]
But if a standard water-pirate ever wants to, ah, have his ship boarded, I do a fantastic Orlesian naval captain. [ His accent gets even more Orlesian for it: ] We meet at last, Byerly Rutyaaaaarr.
No. No, I could only break his heart, and if he had your eyes it would wreck me to do it.
[ Any sincerity at the core of that is wrapped in a thick layer of jovial teasing. ]
But if a standard water-pirate ever wants to, ah, have his ship boarded, I do a fantastic Orlesian naval captain. [ His accent gets even more Orlesian for it: ] We meet at last, Byerly Rutyaaaaarr.
Malédiction!
[ He makes a rapier of his own, points and crosses finger blades, and keeps feigning a duel—lazily, but obviously with some idea how a rapier is meant to work—even while he otherwise drops the act. ]
Usually I am sad to see them go, but… [ Good riddance to Mean Creepy Dream Cousin. ] If he ever reappears, I will be much less nice to him.
[ He makes a rapier of his own, points and crosses finger blades, and keeps feigning a duel—lazily, but obviously with some idea how a rapier is meant to work—even while he otherwise drops the act. ]
Usually I am sad to see them go, but… [ Good riddance to Mean Creepy Dream Cousin. ] If he ever reappears, I will be much less nice to him.
Ah, [ with a resurgence of his Captain accent, ] then you have fallen into my trap.
[ He swirls his finger, a circular parry to free it, and jabs it—gently—into Byerly’s neck, then slides it up under his chin.
With a sword, maybe it would be sexy. With his finger, he looks more on the verge of laughing. ]
But I did say less nice. So we are clear.
[ He swirls his finger, a circular parry to free it, and jabs it—gently—into Byerly’s neck, then slides it up under his chin.
With a sword, maybe it would be sexy. With his finger, he looks more on the verge of laughing. ]
But I did say less nice. So we are clear.
Page 69 of 170
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Page 69 of 170