caughtinanetwork | (no subject)

Dualscar and Mindfang are seated across from each other in a room lit by candles, wood panelled and close - a ship's cabin. A crystal decanter of a deep red wine open between them, mostly empty. Their glasses are also mostly empty, but neither of them seem inclined to refill them.

Mindfang is rather distracted, you see. A troll in a slave's tunic kneels on the floor between her legs, her hands reaching up to undo the ties on Mindfang's shirt. Her hands are shaking visibly, but she doesn't hesitate in her obedience to Mindfang's will. Though the slave's face is hidden, her horns match Dolorosa's. Mindfang strokes the slave's hair, watching Dualscar under heavily-lidded eyes.

Dualscar is watching the goings-on with eyes narrowed, his fists clenching and unclenching in frustration. "I'm done wwith this, Spinneret! I'm not goin' to sit here an let you wwalk all ovver me. If you're not interested in wwhat I havve to offer, then I'll just fuckin' leavve, understand? You'vve plied the seas at my sufferance all a this time. You can't just treat me like this!"

Mindfang flicks her free hand carelessly. Though her words are muffled, it's clear that she's inviting him to leave. Dualscar leaps to his feet, knocking over his chair. With a snarl, he strides from the room, cape rippling, and slams the door behind himself.

[OOC: Interactive or not is fine!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Signless does, indeed, and she sees that. She will have to congratulate her little one on his endless patience, one of these days.]

Perhaps he was not as foolish as you thought.. but tell me one thing, and if there is only one truly honest answer that you give me over the rest of our time here, let it be this. Do you care for him?

[He grimaces. Admitting such things is difficult, so difficult for him. To admit that he cares means he has a weakness that can be exploited, and when he's already feeling defensive, it's even harder.]

He's my fuckin' moirail an I feel genuine about that. There's no need to be questionin' my devvotion.

It is not your devotion that I question.

[Her voice is strangely hard as she says that, and she looks at him with a sharp expression that's almost challenging. Her urge to watch out for her child's wellbeing did not end when he became too old to need it.]

But I will accept your assurances, and I will speak to him for you, but I suggest that you do not put off telling him the truth any longer.

You ought not question wwhether I care for him, either! [His tone is defensive and sulky, but firm, his eyes gleaming irritably in the darkness] I wwon't put it off. I'll tell him noww.

I will question as I wish when it comes to him.

[Sulk all you like seadweller, there's no changing her mind on that one.]

Good, then. I will speak with him when you are done, if it is needed.

Only there's no need on account a the levvel a my carin' and devvotion is obvvious to any to see.

...All right.