#itsbalthier

❖ ⋮ 　 New faces frequent Bur-Omisace often as Auron has found during his stay. He’s known the missionaries and the clergymen from the Temple most of his life but he’s also come to meet those who make long journeys just to visit at least once in their lives. But it’s seldom that he’s seen a new face being carried up the steps in a rush of robes and dripping crimson. 

She could smell the stuff from where she was. Granted, it wasn’t an unpleasant smell but if she could smell from her end then he’d had more than enough at this point. “There’s always a cut-off point.” And Paine was sure he’d reached it now. Yet, she wasn’t about to nab the bottle away from him. What he did to his own liver was none of her concern.

Even so, she pulled out a chair. She’d best keep an eye on the man, should he attempt to do anything stupid. It was all well and good considering that seconds later he slid a glass of the alcohol towards her. She eyed it up, feeling slightly apprehensive about getting inebriated in front of a stranger. Letting out a soft sigh, she accepted the glass and took a drink from it. The first thing she noted was the sweetness, the second was the subtle taste of alcohol. It wasn’t bad.

⚔  ⋮ 　 "I’m sorry to disappoint but no,” Dra’Skye murmured the words behind the rim of her glass, pausing to finish off the last sips of a rich wine that had to have been imported, given the state of the city she was staying in. “I don’t quite care what you are. What you do. Pirate, thief, hero... It’s all.” She made an indiscernible gesture with her free hand. “I have little room to judge. After all, in my home I’m an exile. Framed for an act of treason by my own... My king...”

BALFRAN PRANKS ARE GOOD PRAnKS. I wanna know what Fran does to him now. lol

Honestly? I imagine her being the only time where she can be a bit childish. XD You know...hiding wrenches, switching the size for his shirts... Things that would kind of annoy him, but never something too big to make them fight over it.

@itsbalthier

Kuja was obviously no stranger to such desirous proposals. Many a noble of Treno have literally groveled at his feet in order to gain his favor, crawling over on hands and knees to kiss the tips of his polished boots. At once it had served him well in gaining his standing in the City That Never Sleeps, but with time, he had grown quite a bit more critical of those that might entertain his sadistic whims.

This particular beggar, however, might prove to be amongst the very few lucky ones.

He’d seen the other man on the lower floor of his auction house, peering up towards him on the balcony during the entire event, never bidding on a single item. He was, of course, flattered by such admiration from afar---though equally unsurprised.

And when Kuja at last made his descent, such boldness was to be commended, despite such a line having already been used on Kuja previously (multiple times, in fact). But his newest admirer need not know that, and with a winning smile forming upon perfectly-painted lips, he extended his pale hand for the other to take, so that he might be greeted properly, claws glistening as though dipped in blood.

❖ ⋮ 　 As soon as the question is posed Auron recognizes that something is amiss, though it’s difficult to put a finger on it. He knows that the last thing he feels like doing is admitting to the twisting dependency he’s grown for the sky pirate. Just the reminder of it makes him feel a damn fool for letting the charade continue for this long. But nevertheless he feels compelled to bare his secrets. 

balthier, rubbing his hands together: what a thoughtful looking twink

Balthier thumbs through the pages of a tired book, tattered at the edges with years of well-loved readings. Auron is to his right, and all things considered the nightly ritual is comfortable, familiar, almost–normal. He’s thought about giving panic to that very thought, but simply hasn’t found the time while carting Auron hither thither and yon. And at night, well–then he’s too cozy, dammit. It simply hasn’t been convenient for him to fret.

So when Auron’s soft rumble of a voice stirs Balthier from his reading, he quietly shuts his book and brings it to his lap.

“Oh?” he queries at the soft confession. “And what brought this on?” Obviously the monk must have been thinking of this for quite some time.