bass-boosted whitney houston intensifies in the distance;

[doggish]

Comments

[illithidnapped]

[My whim and your will....what a beautiful saying.]

I'll have to see what I can do.

Just in case he ever happens to break the law, that is. Not that any patriar would, of course, but these days....oh it's just so hard to be certain anyone is an upstanding citizen anymore. Worth an audit or two to check, I say.

[doggish]

Could you truly?

I am not asking you to. But if you wished for it . . . could you truly do such a thing? Or are you merely flirting?

[illithidnapped]

I might joke about a great many things, Fenris.

Not this.

[Never this.]

Unless you've some reason for me not to look into this, that is.

[doggish]

[Oh . . . and he doesn't know how to express the sudden, unexpected tightness in his heart for those words. It's shocking and not, all at once: something that bowls him over even as some small part of him shivers in satisfaction.]

There is a saying about letting sleeping dogs lie that comes to mind.

I still do not understand why he sold me. Nor what your father saw in me to spend such money. Until I do . . . perhaps not.

[. . .]

I would not say no to your disrupting the lives of a few others, though. Friends of his, a few particularly vicious or cruel members of the elite . . . they could do with a few inconveniences.

[That's not enough, and yet to cram the enormity of all he's feeling into a text message— oh, it can't be done.]

Thank you. For the offer and the willingness both.

It means a great deal to me.

[Gods, more than that, but he doesn't know how to say it.]

1/3

[illithidnapped]

[A last ditch effort, most likely, Astarion thinks to himself regarding why his father would've spent a fortune on an asset likely touted as a peerless acquisition. When all else fails, maybe a guard dog is in order, or something along those lines.

He can't be sure of it, though.

Neither of them can be. Fenris really isn't wrong.]

Name them, and they'll suffer in an instant. Believe me when I tell you that it's nothing- I owe you a great deal more yet for what you've done for me.

2/3

[illithidnapped]

And to me.

[wink.]

3/3

[illithidnapped]

Did you really think I was Siri?

[doggish]

[He has a few names in mind already, and oh, trust that they'll spend a fair few hours going over them. Curled up together in Astarion's bed, perhaps, as Fenris lists out names and Astarion seeks them out on his cell phone, digging up information and tidbits in preparation for their downfall (or at least incredible inconvenience). It'll be intimate, Fenris thinks, and finds himself smiling faintly at the thought. He'll gather him up and pull him into his lap, peering over his shoulder as his little magistrate gleefully reads out gossip . . .]

2/2

[doggish]

[And then they go back to the Siri thing, and all that warmth is dropped in an instant.]

I do not want to talk about it.

[He sure did! He sure did, and for way, way too long. And you know, he says that, but immediately follows it with:]

You were the one who encouraged me to use the damn thing. You didn't mention it was utterly useless. It couldn't even call you, never mind delete anything.

[illithidnapped]

[Ohhh he did! Oh he absolutely did if this is his reproach— how utterly delightful as far as revelations go.]

My love, the microphone button? The little one there in the lower righthand corner? That's not Siri.

That's text to speech.

1/?

[doggish]

[doggish]

3/3

[doggish]

You are a nuisance, and so is this phone, that has a thousand useless methods of making things more complex than they need to be.

[No, actually, he'll find text to speech quite helpful, but right now he's in no mood to be charitable.]

What microphone is a person meant to press if they want to call her, then?

Never mind. Show me later, before I take your phone and teach you how to communicate like a person.

[illithidnapped]

Don't shoot the messenger for teaching you how these things work. Then you'll have a dead messenger and absolutely no way to defend yourself in an increasingly technologically advanced world.

-how long was my phone being taken away for again? I forgot what we agreed on.

[doggish]

A week, reduced to three days.

Are you going to attempt to seduce your way out of it?

[illithidnapped]

[Hmm. Three days isn't the worst sentence he's ever faced.]

Do fish swim in the Chionthar?

The only question is whether or not it'll actually work when I do what I do best.

[doggish]

A troubling statement from a magistrate, though I cannot deny you're excellent at it.

And what is it you'll bribe me with, little seductor, that you don't give me already?

[illithidnapped]

What else but the one thing my very nature lacks by default?

Sweetness. Affability. The kittenish promise that not only will I be on my best behavior but also pamper you in ways you've never known.

[doggish]

Oh, will you now?

You make it a tempting thing, I admit. Kittenish I have no doubt you can embody, at least for a few minutes, but pampering? Being on your best behavior for a full 72 hours, from the man who once, when you and your friends wanted to slum it at a fast food restaurant, pouted when he found out he had to get his own drink and condiments . . . will you manage to be docile? Respectful? Are you going to dress me and fetch me pointless things?

Or does this just mean "I'll suck your cock and tell you how big it is".

[illithidnapped]

I already offer up the last bit.

[Wink wink— but really, he'd meant what he said (for once. Forget the fast food thing, he's not to blame, that was barbaric).]

But you really don't believe I can be that well-behaved, do you?

[doggish]

I believe you're capable of a vast number of things. I have seen the way you've taken to gunplay these past few months; you are more than capable when you decide to master a skill.

Whether you'll actually be inclined and interested enough to sustain that for three days is another matter entirely. I equally remember your attempts at learning how to clean said gun.

[illithidnapped]

You've never taken away something I wanted and told me that cleaning said gun would reunite us sooner.

I revolt when it's my father telling me what to do. Him, I know I can outsmart.

[doggish]

But you're still not quite as smart as me, is that what you mean, little magistrate?

[He sees you, little cat. Little manipulative thing, flattery so honey-sweet on his tongue that Fenris nearly falls for it.]

Tell me: where do you and I fall when it comes to your packmates? Do you rank above all the other six, or do you need your teacher's help with that?

1/2

[illithidnapped]

[Hah! Clever wolf....]

You and I sit so high above the lot they'd need binoculars to spot us.

Well, all except for Dal. She's closer. Maybe glasses for her.

2/2

[illithidnapped]

err

unless you mean where they think we rank in which case


less that.