Now you're be'n difficult on purpose. Yes or no; are you two intimate? Then I'll be on my way and not bother you none.
[ If they are, shit, Benevenuta's mother might either find it hilarious and approve or skin Mal alive for not be'n here in time to do somth'n about it even when it ain't rightly his job in the first place. ]
And here we are, arrived to the point. I couldn't all the way be certain if you suspected we were fucking, or if you were concerned I was being an evil Tevintery influence. Or both, I suppose there's more than enough room for overlap.
[ Dorian flips open his book again. ]
What if instead of yes or no, I posit that it isn't your business? Nor your place.
[ Casual vulgarity from nobles always makes Mal blink a little- because what? That's his trick. Nobles have their own fancy airs and whatnot, swear'n is supposed to be the right of the little guy, damnit. So here he is, blink'n, be'n dismissed, and vexed for it.
The previously friendly smile lessens by about several hairs. ]
She ever talk about her mother much? There's a point t'this and I'll get to it. But you know her. Younger lady. She's fine smiles and fine teeth and all kindsa tricksy and clever and wonderful for it. Add a coupla inches of height and hair and a few decades a'work that makes the players of The Game in Orlais look like kids play'n checkers and a lot, and I do mean this, a lot of investment in her girl's future. I got told once couple years back to mind her. I said yes'm, did so, went on my merry.
Thing about a Lady like that? You get told somth'n once? You agree to it? That's how it is till you die or she dies. Know'n my luck I'll be in the ground first. And not mind'n her li'l miss will get me there a mite faster than I'd like. So by the will of a singularly terrify'n woman, it's both my business and my place to ask.
Edited (i can spell i promise) 2016-01-07 14:16 (UTC)
[ Dorian looks back up from his book, haven't barely brushed the words with his attention before it settles back on the other man, flatly. But he listens, a mild twitch at the moustache suggesting a touch of amusement -- wading through this man's accent feels a little like swimming in honey. That is to say, very slow going.
But he has Dorian's attention again, even if he's no more thrilled by this conversation as he is whenever anyone looks at him askance for existing and chatting to people. ]
Well, now that I know you're under duress--
[ He considers continuing with sass, but finally relents. If only for Benevenuta's sake. ]
We are friends, and nothing more. But you should know, that no amount of looming and flexing will dissuade Lady Thevenet from associating whomever she pleases.
You think I'm flex'n? [ Yes, that's the relevant point here. He won't argue against loom'n, the lean'n was it's own version of the loom, but flexing? ] How can you tell through the leather?
Well I rightly hadn't gotten to plann'n that far head. Figured you'd be a sensible sort and clear things right up much like you have. [ Ain't half bad for a Vint, specially if word of him throw'n away all kindsa cushy liv'n to help out down here is true. ]
[ There's a slight easing up of hackles, once more, at the implication he's been compliant. His fingers spread the book apart further from where it had relaxed in his palm, returns his gaze down to the narrow, cramped passages of print. ]
You might find yourself wishing our associations were as simple as what you feared, Captain. Friendship has so much more in the way of possibility.
Long as the two'a'you don't look to blow yourselves up, blow up anyone politically relevant, or start some kinda weird mustache cult; I think I can say I've done due diligence what's been asked a'me.
[ Course it's the middle bit that worries him the most; he can't keep track of who's politically relevant in his own stretch of sea, sort'n out who might be that on land? Ain't his idea of a good time. But much like he said, he got his answer, he won't take much more a Dorain's time.
Mal levers out of his lean, dipping his head to the Altus.]
Thank you kindly for clear'n this up. Won't bother you none.
[ His nose wrinkles; a stifled laugh at moustache cult, despite himself. Dorian remains reading, even if he stays aware of what Malcolm is doing, likely more so than he appears to be. He's not even that invested in what the book in his hand.
But he allows Malcolm to leave without any scratch marks to show for it, only tipping a look after him once he's certain the other man is well on his way. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ Quoting the other man back at him has the affect of tidying up his diction, making drawling syllables into his own precise way of speaking. ]
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[ Northerners. Why. Why ruin a good drawl? Then again mimicking him would end in all kindsa sadness. ]
I, for one, would like things a li'l clearer.
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[ The offer is delivered brightly. ]
Or must we break out the puppets.
no subject
[ If they are, shit, Benevenuta's mother might either find it hilarious and approve or skin Mal alive for not be'n here in time to do somth'n about it even when it ain't rightly his job in the first place. ]
no subject
[ Dorian flips open his book again. ]
What if instead of yes or no, I posit that it isn't your business? Nor your place.
no subject
The previously friendly smile lessens by about several hairs. ]
She ever talk about her mother much? There's a point t'this and I'll get to it. But you know her. Younger lady. She's fine smiles and fine teeth and all kindsa tricksy and clever and wonderful for it. Add a coupla inches of height and hair and a few decades a'work that makes the players of The Game in Orlais look like kids play'n checkers and a lot, and I do mean this, a lot of investment in her girl's future. I got told once couple years back to mind her. I said yes'm, did so, went on my merry.
Thing about a Lady like that? You get told somth'n once? You agree to it? That's how it is till you die or she dies. Know'n my luck I'll be in the ground first. And not mind'n her li'l miss will get me there a mite faster than I'd like. So by the will of a singularly terrify'n woman, it's both my business and my place to ask.
no subject
But he has Dorian's attention again, even if he's no more thrilled by this conversation as he is whenever anyone looks at him askance for existing and chatting to people. ]
Well, now that I know you're under duress--
[ He considers continuing with sass, but finally relents. If only for Benevenuta's sake. ]
We are friends, and nothing more. But you should know, that no amount of looming and flexing will dissuade Lady Thevenet from associating whomever she pleases.
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[ Better question: Does he want to know? ]
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no subject
no subject
[ There's a slight easing up of hackles, once more, at the implication he's been compliant. His fingers spread the book apart further from where it had relaxed in his palm, returns his gaze down to the narrow, cramped passages of print. ]
You might find yourself wishing our associations were as simple as what you feared, Captain. Friendship has so much more in the way of possibility.
no subject
[ Course it's the middle bit that worries him the most; he can't keep track of who's politically relevant in his own stretch of sea, sort'n out who might be that on land? Ain't his idea of a good time. But much like he said, he got his answer, he won't take much more a Dorain's time.
Mal levers out of his lean, dipping his head to the Altus.]
Thank you kindly for clear'n this up. Won't bother you none.
no subject
But he allows Malcolm to leave without any scratch marks to show for it, only tipping a look after him once he's certain the other man is well on his way. ]