08.Mar.13, 11:22 AM
He wasn't sure what to say when Isscer seemed to calm down and apologized, but he thought it was unecessary. "Friends and family...", he repeated after Isscer, aloud, tasting the words that Isscer had said. Isscer was explaining what the North meant for him. There had been rumors of stollen trying to escape, but it seemed to Oahvakeen that if anyone was going to succeed, it would be Isscer. Somehow, it didn't feel right, and he almost wanted to press the issue that Isscer should say here.
Isscer was patting him on the back now in a friendly manner and apologizing again. Oahvakeen carefully held his rake to the side, reached up with one hand and gently tried to go around Isscer's opposite shoulder, and with his other hand, around the man's back. He tried to make three pats back, according to the Masculine Men's Codex of Life's standards. He mouthed the words 'I'm', 'not', 'gay' as he patted each, but said nothing. It was an old habit, one he used to comfort himself. He was never sure how to hug properly, and this age-old habit helped him along. Because of the way hugs work, Isscer wouldn't be able to see his face anyways. After the three attempted pats, he attempted to quickly withdraw, eager to re-form his five foot personal bubble. It was nothing personal, he just liked his space. After all, he'd reduced it from twenty to five for Isscer, and five was a nice number. He could live with that, for Isscer.
"Tell me how you do it, you've been here more turns than me. Do you find excuses to not show up to the Stand? I try to tell whatever egg I'm around that I don't want it, in my head, and it seems to work so far, but it could just be waning luck, you know? And what's your reason for not wanting to impress? You just wanted to make your own choices and plain ole' didn't want a dragon?", Oahvakeen was careful to offer up some suggested reasons, trying to infer that he was not accusing Isscer of anything, and just wanted to hear the story.
He tried to bring up the stollen issue again. "You speak about the North with such fondness. Friends and family waiting for you....", he felt he wasn't implying what he wanted to talk about clearly enough. He couldn't, not here in public. What if other workers arrived to clean out the sands? He was sick of lashings, and he wasn't eager to earn any more.
Isscer was patting him on the back now in a friendly manner and apologizing again. Oahvakeen carefully held his rake to the side, reached up with one hand and gently tried to go around Isscer's opposite shoulder, and with his other hand, around the man's back. He tried to make three pats back, according to the Masculine Men's Codex of Life's standards. He mouthed the words 'I'm', 'not', 'gay' as he patted each, but said nothing. It was an old habit, one he used to comfort himself. He was never sure how to hug properly, and this age-old habit helped him along. Because of the way hugs work, Isscer wouldn't be able to see his face anyways. After the three attempted pats, he attempted to quickly withdraw, eager to re-form his five foot personal bubble. It was nothing personal, he just liked his space. After all, he'd reduced it from twenty to five for Isscer, and five was a nice number. He could live with that, for Isscer.
"Tell me how you do it, you've been here more turns than me. Do you find excuses to not show up to the Stand? I try to tell whatever egg I'm around that I don't want it, in my head, and it seems to work so far, but it could just be waning luck, you know? And what's your reason for not wanting to impress? You just wanted to make your own choices and plain ole' didn't want a dragon?", Oahvakeen was careful to offer up some suggested reasons, trying to infer that he was not accusing Isscer of anything, and just wanted to hear the story.
He tried to bring up the stollen issue again. "You speak about the North with such fondness. Friends and family waiting for you....", he felt he wasn't implying what he wanted to talk about clearly enough. He couldn't, not here in public. What if other workers arrived to clean out the sands? He was sick of lashings, and he wasn't eager to earn any more.