The nights have lost their minds
Bastien's response about excitement just has Nate nodding, a somewhat distant smile on his face. He's only heard of Rexanna as the queen, and as a fellow ascended. He can only assume she is closer to Sam, judging by the way her looks towards him shifted from warm and smiley to cold glares, but he doesn't say anything on the matter. It wasn't as if he actually knew her, and he was used to people disliking him.
"A naked frolic?" That has his brow raising, at least one of the descriptions something he would never have expected to be applied to Sunjata. Though, if it's a double entendre... Nate his gaze flick up and down Bastien, then shrugs, moving on. "I know he's got experience, so I'm not worried about him. Not in that way at least." Maybe he should be more worried about the other mans physical health though, given his track record, the scars that had piled up.
As a new brush is pressed into his hand, a new task coming along with it, Nate turning back to the wall to add new lines of paint. In theory. It takes him a long time for brush to actually touch wall, and he tries to brush it off as distraction, head tilted towards Bastien as the man explains his background. There's a rough laugh when he talks about dropping out, Nate finally shifting to work on the wall. His pattern is hesitant, faltering at the beginning, but growing soon in smooth, abstract shapes. If you squinted, it almost looked like words, though what they said was impossible to decipher. "Sounds like what you supposed to do was a slog." He offered after a moment, impressed with how easily Bastien seemed to have left that world when it didn't suit him.
There's a pause where his brush falls still again, and Nate leans back to look up at the other man. "Wait, Venice? Like... Venice Italy?"
"A naked frolic?" That has his brow raising, at least one of the descriptions something he would never have expected to be applied to Sunjata. Though, if it's a double entendre... Nate his gaze flick up and down Bastien, then shrugs, moving on. "I know he's got experience, so I'm not worried about him. Not in that way at least." Maybe he should be more worried about the other mans physical health though, given his track record, the scars that had piled up.
As a new brush is pressed into his hand, a new task coming along with it, Nate turning back to the wall to add new lines of paint. In theory. It takes him a long time for brush to actually touch wall, and he tries to brush it off as distraction, head tilted towards Bastien as the man explains his background. There's a rough laugh when he talks about dropping out, Nate finally shifting to work on the wall. His pattern is hesitant, faltering at the beginning, but growing soon in smooth, abstract shapes. If you squinted, it almost looked like words, though what they said was impossible to decipher. "Sounds like what you supposed to do was a slog." He offered after a moment, impressed with how easily Bastien seemed to have left that world when it didn't suit him.
There's a pause where his brush falls still again, and Nate leans back to look up at the other man. "Wait, Venice? Like... Venice Italy?"
And the mornings are unkind
NATE
