Well, it's either a curse or you're playing coy about your monster after having it paraded all over the -- whatever it was we were just doing? Harvest festival?
Anyway what Camille would like is the privacy to cry. Pathetic, but the knifish pricks at her eyes and chest are hard to deny, and the taste of blood is seeping up from the roof of her mouth to befoul her brain. That it was biting especially — there's an ironic angle to it somewhere. Amma would be laughing at her.
But the man isn't moving. And he isn't cowed, either. Camille sits stone faced in the audacity of it.]
honestly she could just say piss off astarion i want to have a moment and he would likely leave, but she doesn’t and she did just bite two people so. he just stays where he is. ]
I do have a knife to hand, my dear. I’m not against getting a little violent in my bite prevention.
[Because she can't see why he would. Camille keeps her stare even. She watches him a moment, thoughts percolating. There's still a yawning pit in her gut and she'd jumped quick to fill it earlier. Now, though. The urge is there, but latent.
She thinks of the conjurings at the execution. The profiles. His pallor, his demeanor. His sudden interest in standing guard. Where were all the meatheads at?
Suddenly, she stands. She takes strides to close the thin space between them and bends, meeting his eye with from a foot away, hand braced over his shoulder on the sofa.]
I'd hate to be the reason you have to put on a show this Sunday.
Always. [ slightly droned, a little dry. he’s still looking at the dinosaurs stomping around. ] Naturally. But there’s nothing wrong with a little caution after an outburst like that.
[ but oh. there she is. how forward.
he can’t really lean back, sat on the sofa as he is, but he doesn’t seem too threatened by the whole thing. maybe a little put out that the screen’s now being blocked. ]
Incapacitation doesn’t need to lethal. I think we’ve already proved that, haven’t we? [ double bop. ]
If you don’t feel the need to bite, then I’ll happily leave you be if you’re this uncomfortable with another presence around.
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scrapdraught) wrote2024-06-09 08:28 pm
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I have no fucking clue. [Wincing, feeling the parameter of the bruise.] Did you both have to go in that hard?
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[ ... ] I cannot account for Aerith, you were in the process of trying to bite her neck off.
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...Why was I... [She looks into the middle distance. Then feels at her mouth, the shape of her teeth through her lips.] I remember feeling thirsty?
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You did leap at Aeirth and I think... what's the man with the big hair, Ichi-something? You did leap at them and bite their necks.
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What, like a fucking vamp—
[She pulls away her fingers. They are bloody.]
...
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[ looking at his nails. ]
1/2
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And why are you in here babysitting me?
[Don't you have to go heckle Gale somewhere]
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I was curious which it was.
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I'm not a vampire.
[A beat.]
Are you?
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[ nice try. ]
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[Camille grimaces, tongue swiping over her teeth. Nearly nicking herself on the points.]
This has to be temporary.
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[ y'know. ]
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Then she bends her head into her hands. There are no words. Just a very deep, bracing breath.]
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he is still looking at his nails thoughtfully. ]
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Are they all right? Aerith? And that other one?
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...Why are you still here?
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Mostly making sure you’re not going to run out the door and try and bite someone again.
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Anyway what Camille would like is the privacy to cry. Pathetic, but the knifish pricks at her eyes and chest are hard to deny, and the taste of blood is seeping up from the roof of her mouth to befoul her brain. That it was biting especially — there's an ironic angle to it somewhere. Amma would be laughing at her.
But the man isn't moving. And he isn't cowed, either. Camille sits stone faced in the audacity of it.]
"Someone." But not you?
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honestly she could just say piss off astarion i want to have a moment and he would likely leave, but she doesn’t and she did just bite two people so. he just stays where he is. ]
I do have a knife to hand, my dear. I’m not against getting a little violent in my bite prevention.
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Sure you didn't want to spend more time with me?
[Because she can't see why he would. Camille keeps her stare even. She watches him a moment, thoughts percolating. There's still a yawning pit in her gut and she'd jumped quick to fill it earlier. Now, though. The urge is there, but latent.
She thinks of the conjurings at the execution. The profiles. His pallor, his demeanor. His sudden interest in standing guard. Where were all the meatheads at?
Suddenly, she stands. She takes strides to close the thin space between them and bends, meeting his eye with from a foot away, hand braced over his shoulder on the sofa.]
I'd hate to be the reason you have to put on a show this Sunday.
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[ but oh. there she is. how forward.
he can’t really lean back, sat on the sofa as he is, but he doesn’t seem too threatened by the whole thing. maybe a little put out that the screen’s now being blocked. ]
Incapacitation doesn’t need to lethal. I think we’ve already proved that, haven’t we? [ double bop. ]
If you don’t feel the need to bite, then I’ll happily leave you be if you’re this uncomfortable with another presence around.
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Then she draws back, letting her hair swoop over the side of her face as she turns away. Obscuring the smile.]
Enjoy your movie. I'm gonna take a shower.
[That's one thing figured. Fifteen hundred more to go.]