![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
What happens if you cut through the rope?
[ probably that falls under chop off dick — anyway, that's not the point, brushes it off — ]
Figure it matters for some folks. Just never seen the point unless you're trying to work out where the kids came from. And even then, dunno. She shows up with a basket of elves, we're still raising them. What d'you get out of it?
[ gotta be something she sees in monogamy ]
[ probably that falls under chop off dick — anyway, that's not the point, brushes it off — ]
Figure it matters for some folks. Just never seen the point unless you're trying to work out where the kids came from. And even then, dunno. She shows up with a basket of elves, we're still raising them. What d'you get out of it?
[ gotta be something she sees in monogamy ]
Edited 2024-09-18 19:11 (UTC)
You’d really raise someone else’s bastards? Most wouldn’t. [ She lifts her sending crystal and peers at it, reassessing what she knew about Lazar. In the meantime, local gal struggles to explain monogamy: ]
It’s knowing they’re your best girl in every way, for the time that you’re together. All in. Like I’m fine with fucking around but if you’re gonna put a ring on it then it ought to matter in the bedroom too, y’know?
Although I s’pose a bit of it is knowing where the kids come from— Avvar are named after our parents, you could go back and back and back and follow each person’s lineage that way if you had to. Holds are so small that you’d want to know the father was who they said it was. You don’t wanna accidentally knock up your half-sister.
[ small-town insular community struggles ]
— Ugh, fine. Maybe it doesn’t matter so much out here.
It’s knowing they’re your best girl in every way, for the time that you’re together. All in. Like I’m fine with fucking around but if you’re gonna put a ring on it then it ought to matter in the bedroom too, y’know?
Although I s’pose a bit of it is knowing where the kids come from— Avvar are named after our parents, you could go back and back and back and follow each person’s lineage that way if you had to. Holds are so small that you’d want to know the father was who they said it was. You don’t wanna accidentally knock up your half-sister.
[ small-town insular community struggles ]
— Ugh, fine. Maybe it doesn’t matter so much out here.
Hell, I'm the runt of the litter. Could be a bastard myself. Can get that, though. Sorta the same back North. Used to swap for other villages, keep from fucking your cousins so much.
Now, Orlais... once they got titles, start tracking it for all the wrong reasons.
[ anyway ]
So what happened with the wife?
[ and her monogamy kink ]
Now, Orlais... once they got titles, start tracking it for all the wrong reasons.
[ anyway ]
So what happened with the wife?
[ and her monogamy kink ]
Nothing dramatic. Just ended, as things do. We were trying it out — some people do marriages just one year, like, as a test run to figure out if they’re good for each other — and we went two years. She was more an indoors type and at first that was kinda nice, having someone to come home to, someone to warm my bed in the winter. But I kept going out on extended scouting trips, had a hard time convincing her that it wasn’t her, that I wasn’t avoiding home or anything, I just liked being out in the field by myself. And I got—
[ she hesitates, ]
Bored? I guess? Wanted something new. Variety. Started getting a little cabin fever-y. And after I could tell that I wanted to fuck someone else, then that just wasn’t fair to her anymore and it was time to give it up.
[ she hesitates, ]
Bored? I guess? Wanted something new. Variety. Started getting a little cabin fever-y. And after I could tell that I wanted to fuck someone else, then that just wasn’t fair to her anymore and it was time to give it up.
[ if he thinks a couple things — that it all sounds clingy, that coming back one day wanting a split must've proved her right on the trips —
he doesn't say it. not because he wouldn't, because he's more interested in: ]
How'd she take it?
he doesn't say it. not because he wouldn't, because he's more interested in: ]
How'd she take it?
Took it okay. I mean we screamed and cried at each other for a little bit, but then it was… what do the nobles always call it? An amicable split or whatever. She didn’t want to stab me and I didn’t want to take a shit in her bed, so think that means we came out alright. She moved back home to her hold. We’re friendly, if we run into each other on trading trips.
[ it feels like she’s allowed to be nosy now in turn: ]
Why’s yours want space?
[ it feels like she’s allowed to be nosy now in turn: ]
Why’s yours want space?
[ a snort for shitting in her bed – but he rumbles something near acceptance. yeah, that comes out alright. beats a bad end, especially somewhere small. never know when you'll need a rebound. ]
Money. Those contracts, again. Supposed to merge it all, you know, hers and mine. But she's got family in her ear, riling her up. Don't like a human in their business.
[ they don't. that's, maybe, independent of everything else. ]
She'll come around. Figure she got it out of her system with the crossbow.
Money. Those contracts, again. Supposed to merge it all, you know, hers and mine. But she's got family in her ear, riling her up. Don't like a human in their business.
[ they don't. that's, maybe, independent of everything else. ]
She'll come around. Figure she got it out of her system with the crossbow.
[ On Satinalia afternoon, Lazar will find in his pidge a short square box, simply but neatly wrapped in plain cloth (the inside will prove it to be flour sacking) secured with a lavender ribbon. Inside are a selection of small cakes shaped and decorated like tits. Each pair is different in size, shape, or coloring, but all are glazed to a shine. The cakes inside also vary in flavors.
The scrap paper card reads, in a quick but reasonably legible scrawl: I can't afford foie gras or chiaroscuro, but tits are easy enough. No nuts in the cakes. Happy Satinalia! -- Evelyn
The other side has crossed out text that looks like translation notes on something Black Chantry-related.
The scrap paper card reads, in a quick but reasonably legible scrawl: I can't afford foie gras or chiaroscuro, but tits are easy enough. No nuts in the cakes. Happy Satinalia! -- Evelyn
The other side has crossed out text that looks like translation notes on something Black Chantry-related.
Hired it out. Got it in the ass last time I went to Val Royeaux.
Could use a body double. Barrow only works from a fuckuva distance.
( Astrid ponders for a moment, mentally running through the members of Riftwatch and their various physical builds, before concluding: )
Jayce. He’s almost tall as you, and got the shoulders. Just need to make him grow that stubble out into a real beard.
Jayce. He’s almost tall as you, and got the shoulders. Just need to make him grow that stubble out into a real beard.
[ the card is returned to evelyn's pigeonhole folded carefully into the shape of the divine's hat. it's been placed atop ye olde pet rock. ]
Moved quick at the party, [ a grunt of consideration: ] But Bony'd be insufferable about it.
Could be a long con. One of these he'll ditch the stick and take off a sprint —
Page 4 of 4