04-04-2018, 10:44 AM
BASTILLEPAW AURELIUS ✧ ascendants — fireball — tags
[div style="background-color: #e3dfdf; border: 1px black solid; width: 500px; line-height: 110%; word-wrap: break-word; text-align: justify; margin-top: -1px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; color: black; padding: 10px; text-size: 9px"]Smug, this one. She carried herself with the cocky assurance that she was above them all, with no concern for how they might perceive that self-assuredness. Bastille got the vague impression that she expected it to come off as queenly, regal in a way, but he only saw someone who was too full of themselves for their own good. (Not that he cared to say that, though he wasn't afraid to share his opinions with her if she asked. Bastille was all about shit talking someone to their face, not their back.)
He gave a slight roll of his eyes, and pointed out dryly, "Well, just because you can smell our markers doesn't mean you know who we are, Deldrach." The way he said it seemed almost like he was making a point. Yes, he was calling her by what she'd asked to be called by, but with the sort of emphasis that implied he didn't care for her thinly veiled threats of "a problem" should he call her anything else. "Anyway, did you want to speak to Starry on this visit? Get a tour? Have a nice little chat? Like, is there anything in particular you're looking for, or what?" Not rude, exactly. More straight to the point -- Bast wasn't one to put around with small talk when they could get straight to business.
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]