i tried to start caring like you and like them
when you said that i was killing myself
when you said that i was killing myself
It’s their curse – it has been since they’d met, it seems. That a challenge was certainly one thing that the butcher couldn’t simply let lie and neither could she. But he can make it a little bit more fair, and he picks the tongue twisters that come to mind that he could master. So perhaps… It’s only fair if he makes an attempt on one he isn’t so practiced with, if only to make her feel a smidge less bad about the difficulties she has speaking at this precise moment.
“I was, for a moment. It is not often I get to enjoy tongue twisters without boring the person I am speaking with.” He teases, the alcohol breaking through any of the pain felt and leaving him far more open and playful than he was out on the Dusklight floor just moments prior (the proof of the Halo whiskey was much stronger, too), and he eyes her as she twists in her display, her hair like beautiful ink curtains draping around her pale skin.
It has him leaning forward again, his open shirt shifting to reveal more bruising and those centuries old scars, his fingertips tapping on the desk as he considers. “Here, I will tell you one that is still difficult for me.” It likely wouldn’t help her with her lisp, but when he was trying to get his accent less thick, it had been one he’d repeated over and over again without success. As such, he goes relatively slow. “Brisk brrrave brrrrrigadiers… brandished brroad brrrright blades… blunderbusses, and bludgeons.. Balancing them badly.” His nose wrinkles further, a soft hiss escaping him as he leans back in his seat, snatching up his glass to take a sip. Each of the subsequent r’s after beginning the statement have a particular roll to them that gets worse with each passing repetition until he stills and tries again.
So, he waves her off as he pours more into his glass and leans forward to pour more into her own. “Perhaps stick with the long SSs like in class and dress and sleepless.” He murmurs, letting his dark gaze focus on her to see how she takes that suggestion.
“I was, for a moment. It is not often I get to enjoy tongue twisters without boring the person I am speaking with.” He teases, the alcohol breaking through any of the pain felt and leaving him far more open and playful than he was out on the Dusklight floor just moments prior (the proof of the Halo whiskey was much stronger, too), and he eyes her as she twists in her display, her hair like beautiful ink curtains draping around her pale skin.
It has him leaning forward again, his open shirt shifting to reveal more bruising and those centuries old scars, his fingertips tapping on the desk as he considers. “Here, I will tell you one that is still difficult for me.” It likely wouldn’t help her with her lisp, but when he was trying to get his accent less thick, it had been one he’d repeated over and over again without success. As such, he goes relatively slow. “Brisk brrrave brrrrrigadiers… brandished brroad brrrright blades… blunderbusses, and bludgeons.. Balancing them badly.” His nose wrinkles further, a soft hiss escaping him as he leans back in his seat, snatching up his glass to take a sip. Each of the subsequent r’s after beginning the statement have a particular roll to them that gets worse with each passing repetition until he stills and tries again.
So, he waves her off as he pours more into his glass and leans forward to pour more into her own. “Perhaps stick with the long SSs like in class and dress and sleepless.” He murmurs, letting his dark gaze focus on her to see how she takes that suggestion.
Astaroth
healed everything but my shame
