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+--- Thread: The Art of Shamelessness [closed] (/showthread.php?tid=7355)
RE: The Art of Shamelessness [closed] - Zhavi - 07-25-2014
"What, didn't get yer fill o' bullshit trash talk yet?" She screwed up her face in thought, winced, and settled for half a scowl. "Yer nothin' more'n a walkin' stiff prick, swear on me mam. Ye talk more when ye've gone unfondled. All gratin' an' full o' whingin'."
She put thirty in the middle.
"Lass'd think ye were tryin' t'soften her up, way ye beat around." She giggled, "'R mebbe not. Dice'll get all cold an' lonely wi' yer tongue loose as 'tis. Roll."
RE: The Art of Shamelessness [closed] - Jager - 07-25-2014
He lifted a brow and watched her with a look that projected annoyance. "Startin' to wonder who has the bigger hole now. You, or Leila." His grin was just as toothy. He'd shrug as he picked up the dice. "I think I like ya more when you're puttin' on that tough guy attitude. Stompin' around wit'yer chest puffed out and your lip cocked up like you're smellin' a bit o' piss." He takes one dice and pelts it at her. Five.Â
But when he reaches for the second, he takes the flask with him, too. "Room smells like shit and you make for some terrible company with booze and game. I'll come find you tomorrow." He was headed for his ship for a long bath and a comfortable bed. It was risky to use it for something so recreational, but damn it all if he didn't need it. The second dice was bounced off her forehead and a hand full of coins, sixty, was scattered across the table.
RE: The Art of Shamelessness [closed] - Zhavi - 07-25-2014
"Aww, Jager! Ain't nice t'talk 'bout a lady's hole when she ain't 'round t'hear it. Thought ye'd better manners'n that. Can't take ye anywhere nice, now can I?" The first die she blocked. The second, well, having one eye swollen shut really messed with her depth perception. It made her wince.
"Don't care where ye feck off to'r when -- but ye could at least get me somethin' t'eat. I'm ruttin' hungry, ye blaggart. Oh aye, booze is nice -- an' I see ye takin' it like a coldhearted wretch, I do -- but it ain't gonna fill a lass' stomach. No it ain't. So how 'bout ye run yerself down t' a stall like a good little house boy an' fetch me somethin', fancy?"
She was staring at him.
Her expression wasn't a particularly nice one.