[Coyly:] Hm, it could be so defined. [You could also, through a Chuck-e-Cheese-style play-tube setup of mental gymnastics and self-justification, say he did nothing wrong. Qilby tends towards somewhere in the middle, he likes to think. If he regrets anything, it's not getting off that "home" of his sooner.]
[It feels wonderful, he'll admit, to have physical touch again - really, anything but the itch of plants and the metal of the Zinit's innards. Qilby's hand traces up Valerius' arm from his elbow to the tips of his fingers, ending where those claw-like nails press into the gape in his shirt. That's what he missed, more than anything - the conversation, the sniping, and the touch.]
You're one to talk, for "filthy," aren't you? I wonder sometimes if you're capable of anything but hedonism.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2019-08-02 06:02 pm (UTC)[It feels wonderful, he'll admit, to have physical touch again - really, anything but the itch of plants and the metal of the Zinit's innards. Qilby's hand traces up Valerius' arm from his elbow to the tips of his fingers, ending where those claw-like nails press into the gape in his shirt. That's what he missed, more than anything - the conversation, the sniping, and the touch.]
You're one to talk, for "filthy," aren't you? I wonder sometimes if you're capable of anything but hedonism.