thereneverwas | IC Inbox

IC Inbox

[For correspondence, private scenes, and anthrax.]

Mate, remember that time when you told me all about your fancy woman, and I didn't even ask for a bleeding name.

Look.

[He's serious, but his voice is warm.]

If you had, I'd've given it. But point taken. Just fucking about, Jone, nothing meant by it.

I don't like any nose in my business ain't mine. Understand you're trying to be... whatever you're trying to be, I do. But it ain't your cause to give judgement on.

[Chiding,]

Please. Like my judgment's worth shit in the first place.

...just sort of endearing, is all, big fucker in armor sniffing around for you. I'd never actually interfere, I hope you know that.

See, here's the thing. You already clearly got a lot of ideas about-- again-- my business. I could correct 'em. But I dunno if you realize yet it ain't your business.

[There's an extended pause, in which Barrow considers his response: how to express affection without continuing to poke at her, a chasm across which he sees no obvious passage. But he is, if anything, conciliatory-- some things in life are won and maintained by just... rolling over and admitting defeat.]

All right.

[There's nothing harsh or bitten back about the words, short as they are.]

We ain't fucking, or gonna fuck. He's a good fighter, and flirting riles him up. It's funny. That's all. If it were serious, like, I'd not have said a bloody thing.

Edited (wow im tired) 2021-03-30 00:05 (UTC)

Got it.

[A pause.]

...it is funny.

[It's good they agree.]

Yeah, he's a laugh. Just trying to figure what makes him tick.

Suggesting he can't beat someone in a fight seems to do it.

He's got some lofty ideas, that one. Seems to think there should be more executions around here.