she catches herself before she says it aloud, lets her shoulders hunch; drop again. this isn't helping, isn't working. nothing she does lately seems to be fucking working, and none of that can afford to be confided. as though this were even an association for confidence.
(as though she knows much of teren, beyond absence. there have been glimpses — they have been few.) ]
You know my history with doors, [ her eyes shut, stay closed. ] Is that how you sought to woo the Captain?
[Teren's first inclination is to glare at her, but surprisingly after a moment she chuckles. Perhaps it's how pathetic Wren looks with her swollen nose and black eyes, or the shared history of doorway mishaps.]
Pardon, I did woo her. [That's a verified fact.] But no, this was a serpent wooing me.
So did I, until I found out the hard way. [She touches the patch, lightly, and winces.] ...perhaps until it stops looking so revolting, though I daresay most won't be able to tell the difference. [A tired, self-effacing smirk. Vanity has never been one of Teren's flaws, but it's easier to avoid it when one's face is relatively un-disfigured.]
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she catches herself before she says it aloud, lets her shoulders hunch; drop again. this isn't helping, isn't working. nothing she does lately seems to be fucking working, and none of that can afford to be confided. as though this were even an association for confidence.
(as though she knows much of teren, beyond absence. there have been glimpses — they have been few.) ]
You know my history with doors, [ her eyes shut, stay closed. ] Is that how you sought to woo the Captain?
[ by running into a door eye-first ]
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Pardon, I did woo her. [That's a verified fact.] But no, this was a serpent wooing me.
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I always thought the bloody things were stories. [ the crack of an eyelid: ] Cannot leave any heroics for the rest of us, can you.
How long are you leaving that on?
[ the cloth ]
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[ it's, perhaps, a touch too affectionate. better to pull back: verbally, and literally, in the creak of her shoulders.
]
We ought to see about getting you something proper. That fabric won't last.
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It serves its purpose. And there's more fabric where that came from. But I digress. [She gestures around.] What's the occasion?