As Franz gripped at his towel, Ave let a deep, deep sigh escape her lips, rolling her eyes over dramatically. Lifting her arm up, and with that her shirt came up as well, not that it showed much more often, but probably the few ilms of more skin her legs showed would probably only turn Franz more red.
Not that she cared as she pointed towards him and said "Fer th' love of th' Twelve Franz, how could ye possibly have been married? Ye act like a swivin' ten year old boy seein' tits fer th' first time. I got myself covered up. Stop it ye fool." And with a grumble she added " 'nd nay I ain't wearin' ye shirt ye bloody Garlean shite. Fuckin' Hells, th' last thing I want ta do is ta fuck ye Franz when yer unconscious. 'm not even sure if tha' would work, 'nd I don't wanna find out either."
At the very least she could assure him that didn't happen as he appeared to have lost what happened last night. He seemed to be good at that, not remembering things.
As Franz started to rant away about how he had no clue what happened, how he found himself this morning in her guest room, and how he had used her bath and used her kitchen, she wandered over to her cupboard and threw it open. She needed alcohol to deal with this nonsense after waking up just yet. Not that she minded him using her bath, Hells, she'd preferred him clean then the mess he ended up turning into last night, and she had already told him he could use her kitchen anyhow. No, she was already feeling annoyed over the fact she probably had to explain the past two suns now. Fucking Garleans and their Twelve-damned problems.
"Oh why thank ye Franz, ye might do somethin' useful fer a change instead of makin' me drag yer arse trough Thanalan up ta th' Goblet." she replied as she rummaged trough the cupboard in her quest to find whiskey.
Finding a bottle of cheap whiskey, she pulled it from the cupboard, and a clean plate and cutlery after. Tucking her precious underneath her arm, she moved over to the part he had left the remaining popotoes and eggs, and scooped them onto the plate.
"Well at least ye cooked me somethin' aye?" she sighed, and made her way to sit at the table Franz was seated at.
Tossing her filled plate and cutlery down onto the table, and planting her bottle of booze next to it, she grabbed onto lower parts of her shirt. At first she wanted to use it to rub off her eyeshadow of the sun before, but halted herself rather quickly as she'd figured Franz probably wouldn't had appreciate her pulling her shirt up to do such. She really couldn't deal with screams in her ears right now. Instead she let go of her shirt before she even managed to pull it up, and pulled the chair from underneath the table to seat herself onto with crossed legs. In the end nothing noteworthy happened, although she knew it probably would have the prude sitting besides her throw a tantrum, or at least give her odd looks for it. How did that man even survive a marriage, and end up with a child?
Continuing as if she didn't just almost do that, she pulled the cork from the bottle of whiskey, tossed it onto the table, and took a swig from it. She then pushed the bottle over the table towards Franz, and picked her fork up to pin a piece of popoto onto it.
Before she started to eat, she waved her fork at him and asked "Ye really don't remember a swivin' thing Franz? Nothin'? Really?"
Quickly she stuffed her mouth full with it, and continued to pick pieces of egg and popoto in turn as she simply sat there looking at Franz with furrowed brows. She could hardly believe he didn't remember a single thing of his behaviour the past few suns. Surely he wasn't exactly himself, Hells, she barely recognized the man from the way he had been acting, but he surely should have remembered something?
Not that she cared as she pointed towards him and said "Fer th' love of th' Twelve Franz, how could ye possibly have been married? Ye act like a swivin' ten year old boy seein' tits fer th' first time. I got myself covered up. Stop it ye fool." And with a grumble she added " 'nd nay I ain't wearin' ye shirt ye bloody Garlean shite. Fuckin' Hells, th' last thing I want ta do is ta fuck ye Franz when yer unconscious. 'm not even sure if tha' would work, 'nd I don't wanna find out either."
At the very least she could assure him that didn't happen as he appeared to have lost what happened last night. He seemed to be good at that, not remembering things.
As Franz started to rant away about how he had no clue what happened, how he found himself this morning in her guest room, and how he had used her bath and used her kitchen, she wandered over to her cupboard and threw it open. She needed alcohol to deal with this nonsense after waking up just yet. Not that she minded him using her bath, Hells, she'd preferred him clean then the mess he ended up turning into last night, and she had already told him he could use her kitchen anyhow. No, she was already feeling annoyed over the fact she probably had to explain the past two suns now. Fucking Garleans and their Twelve-damned problems.
"Oh why thank ye Franz, ye might do somethin' useful fer a change instead of makin' me drag yer arse trough Thanalan up ta th' Goblet." she replied as she rummaged trough the cupboard in her quest to find whiskey.
Finding a bottle of cheap whiskey, she pulled it from the cupboard, and a clean plate and cutlery after. Tucking her precious underneath her arm, she moved over to the part he had left the remaining popotoes and eggs, and scooped them onto the plate.
"Well at least ye cooked me somethin' aye?" she sighed, and made her way to sit at the table Franz was seated at.
Tossing her filled plate and cutlery down onto the table, and planting her bottle of booze next to it, she grabbed onto lower parts of her shirt. At first she wanted to use it to rub off her eyeshadow of the sun before, but halted herself rather quickly as she'd figured Franz probably wouldn't had appreciate her pulling her shirt up to do such. She really couldn't deal with screams in her ears right now. Instead she let go of her shirt before she even managed to pull it up, and pulled the chair from underneath the table to seat herself onto with crossed legs. In the end nothing noteworthy happened, although she knew it probably would have the prude sitting besides her throw a tantrum, or at least give her odd looks for it. How did that man even survive a marriage, and end up with a child?
Continuing as if she didn't just almost do that, she pulled the cork from the bottle of whiskey, tossed it onto the table, and took a swig from it. She then pushed the bottle over the table towards Franz, and picked her fork up to pin a piece of popoto onto it.
Before she started to eat, she waved her fork at him and asked "Ye really don't remember a swivin' thing Franz? Nothin'? Really?"
Quickly she stuffed her mouth full with it, and continued to pick pieces of egg and popoto in turn as she simply sat there looking at Franz with furrowed brows. She could hardly believe he didn't remember a single thing of his behaviour the past few suns. Surely he wasn't exactly himself, Hells, she barely recognized the man from the way he had been acting, but he surely should have remembered something?
