[ The hand that Beleth puts over her mouth doesn't quite muffle the undignified squawk of amusement at the idea of Hightown nobles trying to acquire some...marital aids. Or not marital. Who knows, with them. ]
Fenedhis. Truly? How do you keep a straight face, when you deal with them?
[ She shakes her head, her smile not fading, but turning teasing as they change subjects. ]
Fine, then. You are a medicine seller who gives the less fortunate aid that they would otherwise be forced to go without, because being a medicine seller compels you to. You have no choice in the matter.
[ Yes, she believes that. This is her believing face. ]
I'm quite certain I don't want to know, I can't even begin to imagine.
[ Poor, poor Medicine Seller. Beleth does not envy him. She does, however, shoot him a wry look, and as they're nearing the docks, briefly considers threatening to shove him into the water. But there are probably ten different kinds of diseases waiting in there to kill some poor fool. She's not that mean.
Instead, she makes her way to where they'll have to wait for the boat to take them across, and turns towards him, opens her mouth--Then frowns. ]
Your bangs. They're always hanging in your face. You should just--
[ And she reaches up to try brushing them to the side, mouth twisting into what could be a small smile. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Fenedhis. Truly? How do you keep a straight face, when you deal with them?
[ She shakes her head, her smile not fading, but turning teasing as they change subjects. ]
Fine, then. You are a medicine seller who gives the less fortunate aid that they would otherwise be forced to go without, because being a medicine seller compels you to. You have no choice in the matter.
[ Yes, she believes that. This is her believing face. ]
no subject
[He's been doing this for years, Beleth. He has had people come to him with the weirdest problems. Nothing surprises him now. He has seen Some Shit.]
I am glad you understand however.
[Was he joking? Was he really compelled to treat the sick? His deadpan expression sure wasn't giving anything away.]
no subject
[ Poor, poor Medicine Seller. Beleth does not envy him. She does, however, shoot him a wry look, and as they're nearing the docks, briefly considers threatening to shove him into the water. But there are probably ten different kinds of diseases waiting in there to kill some poor fool. She's not that mean.
Instead, she makes her way to where they'll have to wait for the boat to take them across, and turns towards him, opens her mouth--Then frowns. ]
Your bangs. They're always hanging in your face. You should just--
[ And she reaches up to try brushing them to the side, mouth twisting into what could be a small smile. ]