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A Date for Dinner [Bodran/Oecella]
“My responsibilities come before any frivolous trifles such as this dinner. If I had my way you would not even be in the building.” A pair of reading glasses were pushed up the bridge of her nose and she slid the parchment back over to herself.
“I’m assuming you’ve stored it in that disgusting sack on your shoulder and I regret to inform you that unless you pull a stove out of thin air I will not be eating a cold meal.
Oh, and that does remind me…” she glanced up venomously at him. “That you complained to the Grand Inquisitor about something concerning me which resulted in my having to take her reprimands.” It needn’t be said that she was obviously still very sore about that.
“I admire your sense of duty. However, while I believe that one should put the Dominion before oneself, one needn’t become an ascetic in the process. I’m sure the Dominion does not need withered and malnourished soldiers, or even pen-pushing bureaucrats like yourself, to fill its ranks.” He delicately dropped his satchel on the table, taking from its contents two bottles of Alinor wine. “The wine, mademoiselle, unsullied by either Nordic or Dunmeri hands I assure you.” He pulled from his satchel a series of covered bowls, “Tut, tut, Justiciar, I thought you enjoyed setting fire to things. It’s only the chicken dish that needs heating.” Pulling out the last bowl, he leaned on the table, “And I didn’t complain per se, I merely gave the Grand Inquisitor my reports of your department’s audit. Sufficiently efficient, but lacking in veneer.”
"Only that which annoys me." She retorted with a sneer.
She didn't believe a word of his excuse for a second. Out of every Justiciar there she had been the only one that had been reprimanded, and she was sure that the High Inquisitor's vendetta against her certainly didn't go that far. He must have complained about her specifically to prompt Palonriya to single her out. Otherwise, her superior did not bother with her in the least.
"I hope you realize that I take everything you say with more than a grain of salt." Meaning that she didn't believe a gods damned word out of his mouth.
“I’m not sure, perhaps all the cold has finally numbed them.”
It was a complete joke, however, at which Zyleiril chuckled to himself as she smelled his hair. He could distinctly smell her perfumeas well.
“Did you get a new perfume?”
Just to test the waters, Sontaire drew a finger delicately across the pointed tip of his right ear. She found herself beaming broadly, both from the feeling of treating this timid Dunmer like a teddy bear and from the fact he noticed she’d changed her normal fragrance.
“Ah, yes!” She confirmed jubilantly, “It’s a vanilla blend this time… a few other spices, that sort of thing. My alchemist had been wanting to try something new.”
"Well it suits y-- Euuh--" His bitten ear twitches rapidly like a cats. "Sontaire you know my ears are sensitive..."
In both hearing and in touch. They always flicked when they were touched and always trembled at loud noises.
"L.. like I was saying, the smell suits you. I like the smell of vanilla very much."
Alba
ssorry I haven't been around personal drama it's all good now u n u
Being put onto someone else’s lap always made him feel small. Which he was. At a mere five foot seven he was below average height for a dunmer. Her being an Altmer didn’t help either. She was so tall…
“O-Old days? Sontaire it’s been but six months since I’d le—” He trailed off as her lips pressed against his neck, likely leaving a mark behind from her lipstick.
“I…. I’ve missed you as well, you know…”
“Reaaaally?” She sighed heavily and pouted, nuzzling the back of his hair - it smelled quite nice, likely thanks to how her hairbrush was perfumed. Which meant he smelled a bit like her. Oh, that was nice, she decided.
“And I know it was only six months, but it felt like forever.” She was in the mood for melodrama, “Are your ears still nice and sensitive?”
"I'm not sure, perhaps all the cold has finally numbed them."
It was a complete joke, however, at which Zyleiril chuckled to himself as she smelled his hair. He could distinctly smell her perfumeas well.
"Did you get a new perfume?"
((I'm pretty sure if Bodran existed in real life he would be Italian. Look at those wild gestures while he talks.))
Okay now that they’re both sewed up I can cut them down the middle and expand them.
magic. this is what I’m spending my time doing))
A few curls of her pretty red hair fell over his shoulder and he played with one of them. Sontaire so easily manipulated his heart strings it was ridiculous. He ceded almost immediately. “V…very well, if you really want me to stay, I’ll stay.”
Feigned or not, he didn’t want her unhappy.
With her arms wrapped about him possessively, Sontaire walked them both backwards until they came to a seat on her bed - though he was in her lap rather than on the bed like her.
Her voice sounded like a husky purr against his neck; upon it she planted a kiss. “I’ve missed you dearly, you know. I wouldn’t mind reliving some of the ‘old days…’”
Being put onto someone else's lap always made him feel small. Which he was. At a mere five foot seven he was below average height for a dunmer. Her being an Altmer didn't help either. She was so tall...
"O-Old days? Sontaire it's been but six months since I'd le--" He trailed off as her lips pressed against his neck, likely leaving a mark behind from her lipstick.
"I.... I've missed you as well, you know..."
volamer started following you
A polite nod of acknowledgement is offered to the fellow thalmor from Oecella.
“Greetings, sir.”
She could not exactly remember the rank of the other but she did distinctly remember that he was involved with Palonriya and the less bones that womer had to pick about her the happier Oecella was. Being overly polite was better than being sub-par.
The was not a reply spoken by Volamer. At least, not yet. The only gesture to greet Oecella was a piercing gaze from darkened lids, from eyes of burning amber in their observant incandescence. “Salutations,” he finally voiced, with an amiable enough tone. Where one would expect the Thalmor to stop for conversation, Volamer only continued in his mild walk from the keep—expecting the womer’s greeting to be nothing but a curt gesture masked by a facade of forced interest.
Oecella had planned to continue on her way until they both took the same turn and ended up walking in the same direction. She readjusted the letters and files under her arm and gathered her hair back over her shoulder with her free one when the wind brushed it over her face. There was an air of distinct, awkward silence saved for the crunch of snow under two pairs of boots.
She supposed that there was no harm in idle conversation. "At least today is not as bitterly cold as it was the previous day. If you ignore the wind at least." Another gust of wind plucked a piece of parchment from her grasp and her hand went from her hair to the air as she snatched it back. Amused and somewhat with her own success, she chuckled a little.
A Date for Dinner [Bodran/Oecella]
She continued to scrawl away at the parchment, keen on getting her work done regardless of the distractions. She could hear muffled voices and doors opening and closing. She could only assume that the dunce of a Dunmer was systematically checking each and every single room for her.
She rolled her eyes and dipped the quill into the ink again. But soon enough the commotion stopped and three pairs of footsteps marched up to her door and stopped. Only two of them walked away. She grimaced at the knock on the door and the Dunmer calling for her.
“The door is not locked, you may enter.” She stoically replied, the tip of her quill scratching again at the document.
He was surprised at her reply. Squinting at the door in suspicion—it was unlike Oecella to leave her doors unlocked, especially when he was around—he tried the handle. If Bodran was surprised at her reply, then he was all the more surprised that the door was indeed unlocked. He shifted the heavy bag on his shoulder and entered.
Closing the door behind him, he grinned licentiously. Strolling over to the desk, he turned one of the pages towards himself, frowning in concentration as he read. “Working hard, I see. Couldn’t possibly tempt you to put down the pen for our dinner, hmm?”
"My responsibilities come before any frivolous trifles such as this dinner. If I had my way you would not even be in the building." A pair of reading glasses were pushed up the bridge of her nose and she slid the parchment back over to herself.
"I'm assuming you've stored it in that disgusting sack on your shoulder and I regret to inform you that unless you pull a stove out of thin air I will not be eating a cold meal.
Oh, and that does remind me..." she glanced up venomously at him. "That you complained to the Grand Inquisitor about something concerning me which resulted in my having to take her reprimands." It needn't be said that she was obviously still very sore about that.
volamer started following you
A polite nod of acknowledgement is offered to the fellow thalmor from Oecella.
"Greetings, sir."
She could not exactly remember the rank of the other but she did distinctly remember that he was involved with Palonriya and the less bones that womer had to pick about her the happier Oecella was. Being overly polite was better than being sub-par.
“Yes well you still have quite the talent for it.” he commented, his cheeks tinging at the show of affection. “Even if you think you’re more talented at what you do now.”
He cleared his throat a little as she got a little closer. “Maybe I should make lunch, I’m a little hungry.” Shy as per the usual.
Sontaire frowned. He was trying to escape… she really would let him if he felt he needed to, but this was Sontaire, and she was needy, and she had missed him. Almost on cue her hands ran down his chest and she sighed.
“Awwwww,” a woeful noise, “Stay here with me.”
A few curls of her pretty red hair fell over his shoulder and he played with one of them. Sontaire so easily manipulated his heart strings it was ridiculous. He ceded almost immediately. "V...very well, if you really want me to stay, I'll stay."
Feigned or not, he didn't want her unhappy.
His nose scrunches again as Seron prods it and he skews his mouth a little into something not unlike a sideways embarrassed frown.
The rooms that the bordello had always took him a little aback, seeing as he never spent time in any of them besides his own little closet, the kitchen, living rooms, or Sontaire’s room of course.
“I’m not cross…” He murmured quietly. “I just don’t think it’s that great of a compliment.” And he really really was reluctant to even humor the dress idea. Especially if anyone saw it. He’d probably die of embarrassment.
Seron laughs brightly, shakes his head and winks mischeviously before his voice lowers, the bright smile becoming a smirk, and he purrs against the others ear, “Well, as long as I just get my ‘anything’, darling, I don’t really care if you wear a dress or if I get to watch a blush travel all over that lovely skin off yours without anything in the way,”
He chuckles, “So, tell me, darling, just how much have Sontaire taught you?”
Well that was certainly a question he didn't expect to be asked. He assumed just about everyone knew that he was the least knowledgeable and experienced resident in the bordello. Perhaps even on the block.
"Uh..."
He tried to find a proper way to word it.
"That is... she hasn't 'taught' me anything...?"
Heavens, that sounded pathetic...
“Oh good, I have such a difficult time discerning that sometimes!” Seron says and grabs the other by the hand, “Do you think I have to ask Sontaire before borrowing you?” He stops, ponders, it would be a nice gesture he supposes, and he doubts that Sontaire would have any other demand than a detailed recounting of it later, but then again that would take time, but then he brightens up again, “Maybe we could borrow that maid dress of hers?”
A brilliant idea, if you ask Seron.
“S-She does not own me.” She basically did.
“And I am not that feminine!” Yes he was.
Regardless the insult was clear on the dunmer’s face. Try as he might to deny that he probably would have been better off being a woman, there was no denying that he had an unusually pretty face. At least it was useful when he needed to convince someone he was less threatening than a bucket.
“Besides I would not fit into that dress anyway.” There was the lack of a voluptuous chest to be addressed. Or he was ignorant to them having ones for males. Or he was trying to convince himself they didn’t have dresses for men.
Seron laughs brightly, “Darling, do you really think that dresses for males are something uncommon between these four walls?” he stops, to press the others nose, “Aren’t you just adorable,”
When they reach Seron’s room, it is revealed to be a rather extravagant affair. The mer has a love for everything expensive and luxury, firmly believing in the more is more regimen, but with a large open window that always had heavy drapes in front of it during the day, and always were open during the night. Not to boast, but Seron looked rather amazing illuminated in moonlight.
“And there is no need to look so cross about the entire thing, it’s all a great compliment,”
His nose scrunches again as Seron prods it and he skews his mouth a little into something not unlike a sideways embarrassed frown.
The rooms that the bordello had always took him a little aback, seeing as he never spent time in any of them besides his own little closet, the kitchen, living rooms, or Sontaire's room of course.
"I'm not cross..." He murmured quietly. "I just don't think it's that great of a compliment." And he really really was reluctant to even humor the dress idea. Especially if anyone saw it. He'd probably die of embarrassment.
Drabbles!!
Nightmare: I'll write my character having a nightmare about yours, or vice versa.
Kiss: I'll write our characters sharing a kiss, it can be innocent or passionate.
Traumatic: I'll write my or your characters going through a traumatic experience.
Murder: I'll write my character killing yours or vice vesra.
Home: I'll write our characters living together.
Holiday: I'll write our characters celebrating a holiday together.
Prank: I'll write our characters pulling pranks on each other.
Scars: I'll write your character touching my character's scars or vice versa
Sketching: I'll write your character drawing mine or vice versa
Warmth: I'll write our characters getting warm.
Solace: I'll write my character comforting yours or vice versa
Drink: I'll write our characters drinking together
Game: I'll write our characters playing a game.
Love: I'll write our character's falling in love.
Death: I'll write our character's mourning over each other.
Hate: I'll write our character's hating each other.
Seduce: I'll write my character trying to seduce yours or vice versa
Old: I'll write our characters growing old together
Song: I'll write our character's singing or playing a musical instruments.
Passion: I'll write our characters having intercourse
Child: I'll write our characters raising a child.
Poem: I'll write my character speaking a poem to yours or vice versa
Insane: I'll write my character is insane inside asylum and yours is the doctor, or vice versa
mAGIC!aNON: SUDDENLY ANTI-ZYLEIRIL
((HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GO ABOUT THIS LOL))