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Janaina Medeiros
Xuebing Du
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#extradirty
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Cosmic Funnies
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@unseeing-altmers
Have a question for the mun or muse? Ask away ⤷
Even as hands met his neck – fingers curling firmly around his throat, nails driving into skin – he sustained both his stance and smirk.
“M-Mm,” Buck canted his head backwards, a short-lived chuckle surpassing yellowed teeth. His words were strained beneath the pressure of the grip, yet persevered nevertheless. “If y’wanted t’get me hot an’ bothered, y’need only ask. B-But, I s’pose this is quicker.”
The Nord’s own hand sunk low once more – proceeding to delve beneath the loose hemming of his trousers in a goading, masturbatory-insinuating gesture.
The Altmer dropped Buck like he was made of fire, swinging his hands sharply in the air as though to shake the blind man’s filth off of him. Another cascade of threats and insults tumbled out of Carondiil’s mouth, mixed and jumbled with Altmeris and it’s strange sentence structures.
He made to go at Buck again, raising both arms up before being caught on either side by a Riften guard. Several more closed the gap between the two men, all yelling to ‘break it up’ and dismissing the crowd of onlookers.
“Its only interesting if there’s enough bloodstains.” Quarion replied with a grim smile, seemingly amused by his own excuse of a jest. The smile faded as soon as it appeared however, and the altmer watched the other mer pause in action whilst he was fiddling around in his satchel. It was a very brief pause, but enough for Quarion to raise a brow.
Inwardly he wondered what thoughts threaded themselves through the other mer’s head. Curiosity almost persuaded the mer to ask some questions, but he refrained, even in spite of his suspicion orientated occupation, the mer held some lenience to fellow altmer. Most of the time.
“How much would that be?” Quarion answered in dry formality, giving a brief shuffle in position as his orange gaze looked over the other.
“Plenty of those everywhere I should say.” Carondiil said as he pulled up his coin pouch along with the vial.
“I’ll go with... seven septims?” He’d almost said ‘free of charge’ but his gut told him that would have been more suspicious.
“Well, yes. But I don’t see why it couldn’t be possible. After all, they were bipedal and more like either the ancient Chimer or Altmer, I would think. And they had to have evolved from something, right?” But she shrugged listlessly. “I’ve no idea. But it makes him happy. I just study the culture.”
“I apologize, it’s just a difficult notion to wrap my mind around. It seems strange that they would have a culture at all, from what I’ve read I’ve never come across them having a language.” Carondiil was showing more and more that he was a mer of measurable reality instead of theory. The Falmer may as well have landed from Masser or Secunda they were so alien to him.
[[ Hey y’all I am super sorry about disappearing for so long, I got a summer internship and it’s taking up a lot of my time plus this has been an unusually busy month for me socially (it’s really weird).
Again, apologies to those who have been waiting for me to get in gear and do some work around here I’m going to try to get all my drafts done tonight before work tomorrow. ]]
Quarion gave a low snort. “If a change of scenery was what you wished I would suggest somewhere more tasteful..” He quipped with a slight shake of his head. Something seemed to be off with their mood, but perhaps the inquisitor was overly suspicious.
For good reason, however.
“A health potion should suffice.” Quarion continued, pushing suspicions aside for the sake of business. Whilst he was of decent skill in alchemy, he had not the time or resources to personally brew anything.
“You say distasteful, I say interesting.” Carondiil laughed, reaching into a satchel and feeling around for the right vial. Briefly his hand touched the fake- a vial full of dangerous poison made to look and taste like a health potion. It was a fail safe, in case he was ever robbed on the road. He could do it. He could give this to the mer, watch him poison himself without ever knowing it. He could-
No. That was dangerous. There could be witnesses. If Quarion died after drinking something given to him by this stranger, people would talk. Carondiil was tall, recognizable; people would match descriptions and everything would fall apart. Thalmor grunts were easy enough to take care of, easy to pass of and hide. Someone who looked as important as this one did would be missed.
And just like that his crisis was over, his hand moved to the safe vials and he pulled one free.
“This one is fresh, should give you a little extra spring in your step.”
@unseeing-altmers
“It’s not often one sees a fellow mer in this land..” Quarion commented idly whilst his orange gaze looked the other over.
“Not without reason anyway..”He added, they were no thalmor- unless they had partaken in the degrading act of being one undercover. He shifted around in his armour a moment before giving a light huff, caring not to elaborate further. They could take whatever meaning or hint they wanted from his words.
The mer made him uneasy, Carondiil could feel it in the pit of his stomach- as though he’d swallowed a live snake. He had prepared for moments like this, prepared to be hunted when or if his lie was discovered.
“I just wanted a change of scenery. Try something different, you know?” He smiled like he would at a customer at his stall: warm, friendly and non-threatening.
“Can I interest you in something? Potion? Balm?”
Martin shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant. There’s just so many times I can talk about the war, or the Thalmor. It’s like mudcrabs in Cyrodiil.”
“Ah, I think I see now. I can sympathize I suppose; I’m always being asked about such things because of-” He gestures indicatively of himself. “-this. ‘Are you a Thalmor? Why aren’t you in the Isles anymore? Are you happy your people are invading?’ And the like. I’d be much happier examining the weather.”
“Possibly.”She shrugged. “Time will tell, won’t it?” Nodding, she smiled contently. “Yes, it is. Should the falmer actually end up being restored, it will no doubt spark another war. What with the whole sore ordeal beginning because they decided to butt heads with the local nords and all. Ugly business, that.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of breaking evolution. Can something truly evolve backwards?” He asked. “From what I understood they didn’t always look or act like they do now, they were made such. Would it take thousands more years for them to be changed again, should the reversal actually work?”
[ I feel like Carondiil is one of those people who get up in the middle of the night for something and finds a cat in a weird, random spot in the house. It’s never his cat. He doesn’t know where they come from. Or how they get in. ]
“C'est la vie, C'est la mort…”
Sometimes when I see a muscular guy, I like to think of what snacks I’m going to bring when I climb that mountain.
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She’s like a moon, part of her is always hidden.
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I am sick of walls and closed doors; constraints and restraint. Of blocked paths, land mines, and pitfalls. I want to make my own decisions without outside influences, for bad or for good.
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I’m in a better place now, honestly. But sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and I fear life.
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