I have a particular friend…she lives with her sister though,,,so,there’s no way we can actually have sex, so we just talk about it and flitrt like we don’t give a shit…and she’s her kind of genius and I’m my kind of geious but I don’t think I I have ever met a more compelling personality

laughs to herself at the thought of the Haruspex hitching a ride

Corpo Plaza
He really hopes you do understand, because it's important to him and he hopes it's just as important to you.. that you haven't given up on being more than what you were made for. Because that doesn't scratch the surface of you, as far as he's concerned.

He might tell you eventually, if it comes up in conversation and all. He hears your question though.. thinking about it ..

"I'm not sure. I don't know what they'll deem as bad really. Well, let me rephrase... they can't really prove any of it aside from what Paz has in her files. So with that ... they can't do much about it."

He shrugs a little, but smiles at you anyway like he's trying to move past that conversation .. at least for the time being.

He looks to you and nods a little, understanding that ..

"I see ... well, let's get you one now .. just in case."

And Jackson will give your hand a squeeze before tugging you toward that monk. And hopefully to a more easy evening .. maybe with a drink or two ...

but another night.
one soon

he's going to ask you to come home with him.

* Give You a side eyes look and laughs deeply*

Ride with You?!?!?

No offence Sir, but I don't even know you name..

and ain't no tequila on the Plains

So maybe it's better we just leave it this way,

And you bring the bread next time Your headed to the Plains.

Rehearsals
A little moment of surprise when you lock eyes with him. It's the easiest thing in the world for him to lean in a little, to let you use him as an anchor.

You're doing great. Gennuinely. There's a depth, connections you've made about the character, that show in the work you're doing.

Elodie is writing notes, so he doesn't have to. That means he gets to just hold your eyes as long as you need him to, full of warmth and encouragement.

A glance to You with a smile

He then looks very thoughtful.

'I think I have a raider there in the Caverns named Brad. He is a Free man though.'

pulling the towel my head looking right at you. Hey mom how did the date go

hmmmmmmmm
so quiet tonight

Corpo Plaza
Her gaze hooks on yours as you stare her down and make your point and she nods, her touch gentle as she tries to reassure you that she understands and she knows she'll be more than what she was made for.

She doesn't know all of what you've done for Paz, you're far above the grade of work that came her way. She is curious and not sure if she should ask about it as she's always erred on the side of letting you disclose what you choose to, never pressing for information about your work in any sphere. She is tentative, her fingers curling against your palm as she holds your hand and asks, "Was any of it... really bad? Your work for Paz? You say it wasn't jail-worthy." The spectrum is vast, but she can't imagine you did anything too severe...

...but then you often surprise her, like how stern you became at Guillermo's, not the same easygoing person you usually are with her.

She tracks your focus, looking up as well to take in the quiet. The trees buffer the distant city sounds and, when the breeze picks up from time to time, they make white noise that would help her sleep if she could listen to it all night long.

You smile at her and her heart softens as she pulls her attention from the trees to instead look at your mouth as she answers, baring more details of how much she kept from you about Guillermo. "No. The night Paz died, I got Guillermo's address. I was... I spent a lot of time outside his building and it took me a long time to find a way inside. I didn't do much of anything else."

He eyes you sideways.

'I have quite a stock of Ta-sarna to make bread back in my home Gretuk Dur Caverns. You should come ride with me and I will give you some.'

He reaches with the hand not holding the meat and grabs the bota he has been swigging on and drinks deeply.

'an keep the slave she looks worthless to me.'

The tip of her tongue slid out to slowly glide the curves of her mouth as she watched Him tear into the steak - juices dripping down His chin .. hmmmmm

hearing footsteps on the stairs

((Bread...not Brad LMAO))

*Ears perk up at the mention of bread and My head swiftly snaps in You direction*

You have bread?????

I have a slave girl I can sell You for 5 loaves of Brad!

*Grinning like a Cheshire cat*

He nods over.
'dayum the sleens was hungry too'

He brings his fist to his mouth and rips off some more meat and chews.

She chuckled at His grumblings over no bread. Softly biting her lip.

If Master would return with bread, this one would gladly serve You.

teasing smile

* you are immediately taken and feed to the sleens*

Rehearsals
After a few more unsteady breaths, she went from panning cautiously around the room to find a person she could anchor to, locking eyes with Leo Sterling as her expression twisted to the verge of a beg…

One false-start of a remark, another difficult breath. "^okay… if you even know how mean she really is…?"

A strained swallow as she adjusted her standing posture, nervously finding her footing like she was prepared to flee at any second.

"You know that I'm not allowed to wear hoop earrings, right?" the shallowest nod, like the restriction was a denial of a basic human right, like fashion was a sacred form of self expression the stymieing of which verged on inhuman and sharing this story with you was the most damning tea ever divulged.

"Yeah! Two years ago? She told me that hoop earrings were her thing," the slightest forward sass, like giving you Regina's secret was not just damage against her, but a rung up the ladder leading her out of her own pit of dignity.

But that was short-lived as retelling the story re-opened wounds, the hard crease of her eyebrows wavering into a crash. "…and that I wasn't allowed to wear them anymore…"

That pain continued to grow, the edge in her voice following the same pattern, the dryness in her tone giving way to a vulnerability that first sounded vapid before implications could be read. "…and then for Hanukkah my parents got me this pair of ^fffreally expensive white-gold hoops…"

Was she crying? No, she just looked like she was on the verge of it, like she was well-versed in alligator tears, but her eyes were practically twinkling like it wasn't just the earrings but the alien sentiment that her relationship and love-language was formed on materials and conspicuous spending.

(greetings)