Aguril catchall

[stopfen]

Who: Mikasa and open with some closed prompts
When: Throughtout the month
Where: Mainly in Aefenglom
What: Full moon things and quests plus some investigating
Warnings: Some body horror for the full moon and some casual parital nudity, will add more if needed

Comments

[unsundered]

[That wasn't a very pleasant sound either, moist and sticky. But his expression remains neutral, even as his gaze slides over the gradually unfurling wings. Fascinating- or at least, mildly diverting, though he didn't envy Mikasa the task of dealing with the wet appendages. But his eyes return to her face at her statement, and while he hadn't necessarily expected thanks--

It does get a puzzled frown, and a shake of his head.] I already expressed my gratitude for your help. If you were expecting gifts on top of that, you'll have longer to wait. No--

[And then Emet-Selch has to pause to consider his own motivations. The Ascian was not a terribly thoughtful sort, but nor was he particularly cruel. While he could've just shrugged and left her to her dripping, buggy fate, he could just as easily not, if the mood struck him.

In the end he shrugs. Occasionally his whims could land in a positive direction. It wasn't as though creating a simple towel cost him anything at all.]

You don't especially annoy me, and I felt like it. Nothing more.

[stopfen]

[She'd stopped looking at this point. Her dipping to look at the fuzzy that was now in her lap. Awkwardly poking at it, unraveling it where it'd gotten bunched up on her legs. Eventually tugging it over her shoulders like a fluffy cloak.

Then why? Did this mean she owed him now? But no, it wasn't that at all. It does get a snort here.]

Thanks. You make that sound like a rarity. [But she'd rather that than the odd pity she got whenever she was suspicious of someone giving her something for nothing.] I think I'm going to be here awhile. [Until these wings aired out.]

[unsundered]

Oh, I can be quite magnanimous when I choose to be.

[He just rarely chose to be. But her statement has him nod in agreement; she would be stuck here for some time with her wings damp and her clothes torn. She would probably not provide much more in the way of entertainment- and this seemed like the kind of thing best done without someone watching and making idle commentary about it.

So it's for both their sakes really that Emet-Selch decides to move on, walking past, waving back at her with a distinctive few flicks of a wrist.]

Well, then I shall leave you to your laborious drying out. Do take care.