#aknoia

wiping the blood of her clothes became an element of everyday life quite similar to gutting a fish for dinner: it's the same disgusting mess, but instead of a full stomach it leaves only a nauseous aftertaste behind. to become the hand after living as the head is a job on itself. and though she's familiar with the grip of her fist around a weapon, she is largely imperfect but still ripe enough for change. she can feel him staring with a newfound intensity, all shadow against the white canvas of the landscape. he suits this kind of environment well, she thinks, even if for her the boreal caress of the north is still too much to bear.

❝ it still worked out in the end, didn't it? ❞ there's a blood stain on his lower lip, and though it should look out of place somehow it feels right. yet she reaches to wipe it off, a flash of pink tongue swiping over her plush fingertip when she raises her hand to taste it. ❝ let's head back. i wanna wash up before dinner. ❞

@aknoia, dragon age: absolution.

its the smell of zaytun peaches heavy on his breath; regional ice wine, his favorite (so sweet it could rot his teeth). he's had too much, but it's for a good cause, he would swear -- the promise of a job on the future, some grandiose concept that's caught his eye. that should be the first thing he says when he sees the stern, sober features looking back at him, but it's not; his mouth parts and instead of the joyful news, it's a huff.

"haith." the nickname is raveled in sweetness just as delicate as the wine, curling tongue around a fondness he's never quite learned to disguise, only distract away from. he pokes a finger right into his sternum, stutters in a step that sends his shoulder careening into the other's. luckily, alhaitham is made of solid rock, and it turns into barely more than a wobble. he doesn't even stop in his sentence, so sure he is that he'll catch them if they fall. "don't look at me like that."

he's always frowning around him, and he's the idiot with the heart doing leaps right into his throat at the sight of him. even the alcohol can't properly chase that away.

"i was happy to see you, and then you come in here in a huff-" why had he been happy to see him again? he pauses midsentence, tongue caught in the corner of his mouth, squints, and then settles on: the wine, surely. maybe he'd like it. "you should try the wine!"

as if he's instructing, he brings the glass to his lips. it's remarkably steady, all things considered; mouth glassy and red, parting into a smile tasting of peaches as he curls his fingers into the scholar's collar to drag him down to his level and plant their lips together.

the ideal method of wine-tasting, he could assure him.

      Of course he finds the Architect here. Drunk already and only on glass five it appears. (always a light weight wasn't he) It's easy to watch how contagious his happiness is. How he can draw the attention of anyone he wants with a simple smile. But no. He's not here to bathe in Kavehs happiness. He's here for a different reason.

      With purposeful steps, he makes his presence known towards the others within the tavern. Enough to get the blondes attention. His own lips almost quirk up to see the displeasure of the other. (or was that to hide the small pang of pain he felt? that his mere presence annoyed the other so easily?)

      Arms catch his drunken roommate. Ensuring he stays standing and doesn't end up on the floor in a pathetic pile. Holding him steady as he continues to ramble on. "A huff?-" He starts, frown evident on his own face. "-You misunderstand. I'm simply... Annoyed I had to leave the comfort of MY home this late as you once again have left your keys behind. I'm simply here to return them. I have no desire to here you wailing outside needing to be let in." 

      A rebutal is ready. The scribe did not come here for drinks. Is not here for the taste of Kavehs sickenly sweet wine. (but oh he's so weak for his silly antics. gives in so easily doesn't he?) Yet he finds soft plump lips upon his own tasting like sweet zaytun peaches. Finds his tongue trailing along said lips to get a better taste. But he has composure. So he pulls away before things escalate. (before kaveh does something he regrets) 

      "Mhmm. I suppose the wine is okay. But I wouldn't order something this sweet." Is the simple response. "As stated I planned to return your key, but I believe I should get you home instead before you're unable to get there yourself."

      He doesn't expect Kaveh to remember the night after the amount he's drunk. Nor does he plan to bring up the kiss either. 

stares at

Receipts of Ash asking me for said meme so they could send it to me here.

🐍 @aknoia - tartaglia . │ prompt. 

❝ Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you while you were being suspicious ❞

❛ hmmm ... ❜   

to be disturbed is to be interrupted from rather .... IMPORTANT matters , no ? but what exactly is the doctor doing to make such assumptions . well , true , perhaps the harbinger has done exactly that given the current circumstances . baizhu seems to have been gathering & compiling his earlier studies NOTES in a clean pile . it could WARRANT suspicion from the other .

yet the TRUTH was that pharmacist had LONG since stopped working on whatever important matter long ago . the man is a PRIVATE researcher & will stop any proceedings if he is aware that he may have company . prefers to be unbothered at this time of night , but is aware that EMERGENCIES know no sense of time & are not constrained to daylight hours .

tartaglia simply had come across him while cleaning . nothing too innocuous here .

❛ a bold presumption coming from you . childe ... ❜   there is neither malice nor hate in the doctor's tone . instead the voice is rather light & gentle . an intoxicating sweetness laced with coquettish innocence . he seems to be TOYING with the other , but its not at all malevolent or volatile . ❛ you've actually caught me at a better time though . i've already finished . ❜

❝ did you just wake up with the urge to be a bastard? ❞ / kaveh to haith 😌

      Heterochromic eyes look at the blonde with anger masked behind tiredness. Not even given the opportunity to arouse from his slumber. There's a slow blink. Not bothering to grave the architect with a simple 'yes' or 'no'. Finding himself shuffling to the blonde, he does not speak. (it's far too early to conjure up a cohesive thought or argue with his 'r o o m m a t e')

      If he's expected to be nothing more than a bastard, then one he shall be. 

      With a tired sigh, he leans his head on his seniors shoulder. Acting as if he needs a moment to properly waken. (he needs more than a moment) But the act does not seem to last long. Mouth open. Teeth bared. He bites Kavehs exposed flesh. Biting not to cause injury. On no. Biting enough to startle and distract. All so he could take the mug out of his seniors hand and claim the coffee as his. 

      He takes a couple of steps back. Coffee in hand as he raises it to his lips. Staring Kaveh down the entire time without a single words as he takes a drink from it...

      ...The beverage is far too sweet for his taste. (did he empty an entire bag in this?) Too milky but that is not an issue.

      Even with the... unappetising coffee. He smirks. Nodding his head as he turns on his heel to drink the stolen sweetened beverage in his room before he reluctantly gets ready to play the role as Acting Grand Sage once more.