[FIN] Discussions in Monotheism (Dris/Damis)

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

It was a moment where Damissan rued the fact that he hadn’t the faintest clue what anything actually costed in typical trade. Growing up, he rarely ever purchased anything himself, and when he did, he didn’t pay for it. He selected what he wanted, and it was purchased for him. He didn’t need to consider cost. Now, however, he seemed to have no choice, and hesitated, eyeing the wares the woman had for trade and — despite his best intentions — sparing a stray, underhanded glance to Korres.

She did not look pleased, and Damis wagered now was not the time to admit he hadn’t the faintest clue what he was doing. Very well then.

“It is a lovely day, don’t you think, love?” he said, turning his words to Korres. “A pity no one is especially cooperative, but you know, since we’ve nothing better to do until you do get what you need on that list, I was thinking we could have that conversation about gods and the purpose of the universe turning right here, since it’s such a comfortable spot and we have been walking for some time already, where better? Or, if you’re feeling adventurous, we could discuss the filthy things we’re going to get up to in bed tonight, God knows that could take hours — at least until this woman is willing to give me a starting price. Did you manage to convince the clothier to trade you those ten hands of silk sash? After the rope caused you to chafe last time…”  

[Painted Moose]

The Only Black Uke

If Dris'rynne had been a mage she might have turned into an open flame by now. She was so close to just reach out to pop that smug look off her face that-

Love? It was obvious that Dris should have been paying attention to Damis instead of the vendor. When she turned her head up to look at him, her solitary eye was wide, mouth ever so slightly agape. What was he up to? Almost instantly she was grinning, and nodding her head. Yes, perfect! Make the vendor uncomfortable by talking about a God even she didn't believe in. It was so perfect she could have kissed him.

Could have.

Most definitely wouldn't have though.

Oh no.

Then, all at once the conversation had turned to more intimate matters and Dris'rynne felt her heart seize within her chest. "Stop that," she hissed. At least she didn't have to fake the embarrassment! Dris'rynne reached out to snatch his elbow and pull him close. "Damis, please-"

"GODS." The vendor shrieked, looking positively ghastly. "Just take it! Just buy a saddle and leave! I won't have you polluting the ears of my customers with your sordid fantasies."

Dris'rynne couldn't even lift her head. The mighty head of an infamous mercenary group; shamed for sex she never had. "...Janarim. I need a janarim saddle." The exchange was over quickly, but not quickly enough for either woman.  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Damissan blinked, startled out of continuing when Korres pulled him in. Please wasn’t what he expected, but between the fascinating shift in colors on the woman’s cheeks, her hands on him and their nearness—

The vendor’s shriek made him cringe, and did have an unfortunate way of putting a damper on things.

The words immediately after the shriek, however, brightened his mood in an instant, and the next moment, his grin stretched from ear to ear, eyes alive with amusement, victory, relief: it had worked. Not to mention, the vendor’s expression was beyond priceless, instilling a warm pool of something dangerously close to smugness in his belly. Korres looked very slightly less thrilled, still purple from ear to ear and uninclined to lift her head, but it did little to put any immediate damper on his mood. They got the saddle, and he happily toted its weight once it was in their hands, thoroughly pleased with himself and radiating the attitude to the world as they strode away from the stall.

“Well,” he piped up once they were back out of earshot, “I think that was a success. Her face alone, I would venture, was well worth it, and we didn’t even have to discuss what might be done with the silk.” He thumbed over the saddle, inspecting it. “At least this looks like a good make…what is next on your list of adventures? Or should we deliver this to wherever it needs to be, first.”  

[Painted Moose]

The Only Black Uke

At least one of them was pleased with the turn in events. Dris'rynne just hoped that none of her men had been close enough to hear even a shred of that exchange; they would never let her live it down!

What happened was they had the saddle, so all she had to do was finalize the Janarim purchase and ride as far away from here as possible. After their spare; she had promised after all. And now, hazarding a look up at him, Dris'rynne couldn't help an exasperated little grin. He was incorrigible; but infectious.

"You...are a very, very odd man." She shook her head, and peered up at him once more through the locks of her hair. "I don't have anything else to tend to, so I say it's up to you. I did promise you both a theological discussion and a spar. We could always drop the saddle at the inn with my men and take it from there?"

A little part of Dris'rynne's mind kept telling her that she was going to regret this, but for once, she actually didn't think she would. So far Damis had proven to be entertaining, helpful company and that was more than enough for her.  

[Miss Chief aka Uke]

Damissan arched his eyebrows, warm amusement lighting his gaze at her commentary. “I will take odd over a number of other things…at least you can say that you don’t meet many like me? And so you did, and I would very much like to reap the full benefit of both. It seems, though, as though this day has provided a great amount of excitement already, and you must want some chance to breathe. It may surprise you, some people find me exhausting,” a lilt of teasing slipped into his tone of its own accord. “If you are going to be in town come tomorrow or the next day, however…I might come to meet you at your inn? Around when the sun meets its third or fourth mark. We can spar, and then discuss theology over that stiff drink you wanted.”

He followed her as he made his suggestion, and did his part in carrying the saddle weight to the inn where, between the two of them, they settled on a mutually agreeable time to meet back up. Then, because it seemed appropriate in the moment and he already had her consent to meeting again, Damis caught again at her fingers in the last minute, lifting them with his parting bow and this time brushing his lips to her knuckles and venturing a single wink before slipping off his own way.

All in all, he considered the afternoon a great success.