19.Dec.18, 11:35 AM
Indivara gave a choked laugh, spluttering at Z’rin’s teasing even as she glanced at Val when he snorted, her eyes bright and expression affectionate. Val has somehow turned her into the absolute worst kind of sappy lovey girly thing, and honestly, Indivara had trouble being angry with him for it, especially in moments like the current one, when he was being so perfectly and beautifully Val – she smiled at him softly, even though he was about ninety-percent focused on his work. The other ten percent, Indivara knew, was divided between paying attention to her conversation with Z’rin, and pretending he wasn’t.
She turned back to look at Z’rin, her expression fading slightly, and she unconsciously lifted a hand to run along the scar that was still visible on her lower lip. It had faded with the turns, but it was still there, it was still obvious, and it was probably more hindered than helped by Indivara’s tendency to chew on it when she was thinking. “Therapy isn’t fun,” she murmured, before burying her own references – too many memories of Talian growling at her as he worked with her on her speech and recovering movement and motion in the muscles of her face after Hoth had shredded them – and instead she raised one playful eyebrow at Z’rin (hyper aware of every one of her scars in the process) “I’m sure that wasn’t the only thing that rose,” Indivara said, with all the airs of innocence she could dredge forth.
Outright laughter was the primary response Z’rin got for his wet dream comments, and Indivara shook her head. “You old people need your recovery time,” Indivara said with mock gentleness, patting Z’rin gently on one arm, and flicked a smirking expression towards Val; she knew Z’rin had more than a few turns on N’mor, but she had a feeling he either didn’t know, or had forgotten, that Val had a solid ten turns on herself. Her smirk turned devious, and she tilted her head as she looked up at Z’rin from the corner of her eye. “Though I hear someone has been sharing a rather special workaround…” she wiggled her eyebrows, “do tell,” she added.
Indivara herself had no interest in ever drinking Casa’s special concoction that no shortage of her Candidates had been whispering about. Indivara was convinced it was one of the worst kept secrets amongst the younger riders and older candidates. The idea of it freaked her out, and the idea of Val taking it and coming home all raging full of liar that wasn’t him terrified her. Veeth inspired lust was fine (sometimes she was quite convinced the little blue went out of his way to make sure Val came home to her still slightly loopy and unfucked) but… Indivara liked their relationship, and their sexlife, as it was. Maybe they weren’t greenies, and maybe they were ‘boring’ (Parella) but Val made her feel beautiful, and loved, and she didn’t want some stupid concoction running that.
But — that didn’t mean she was against hearing her friend babble about his experiences. Or refuse to. Whatever made him more entertaining was fine with her! Indivara grinned, a slow and predatory expression as blue eyes glittered playfully.
She turned back to look at Z’rin, her expression fading slightly, and she unconsciously lifted a hand to run along the scar that was still visible on her lower lip. It had faded with the turns, but it was still there, it was still obvious, and it was probably more hindered than helped by Indivara’s tendency to chew on it when she was thinking. “Therapy isn’t fun,” she murmured, before burying her own references – too many memories of Talian growling at her as he worked with her on her speech and recovering movement and motion in the muscles of her face after Hoth had shredded them – and instead she raised one playful eyebrow at Z’rin (hyper aware of every one of her scars in the process) “I’m sure that wasn’t the only thing that rose,” Indivara said, with all the airs of innocence she could dredge forth.
Outright laughter was the primary response Z’rin got for his wet dream comments, and Indivara shook her head. “You old people need your recovery time,” Indivara said with mock gentleness, patting Z’rin gently on one arm, and flicked a smirking expression towards Val; she knew Z’rin had more than a few turns on N’mor, but she had a feeling he either didn’t know, or had forgotten, that Val had a solid ten turns on herself. Her smirk turned devious, and she tilted her head as she looked up at Z’rin from the corner of her eye. “Though I hear someone has been sharing a rather special workaround…” she wiggled her eyebrows, “do tell,” she added.
Indivara herself had no interest in ever drinking Casa’s special concoction that no shortage of her Candidates had been whispering about. Indivara was convinced it was one of the worst kept secrets amongst the younger riders and older candidates. The idea of it freaked her out, and the idea of Val taking it and coming home all raging full of liar that wasn’t him terrified her. Veeth inspired lust was fine (sometimes she was quite convinced the little blue went out of his way to make sure Val came home to her still slightly loopy and unfucked) but… Indivara liked their relationship, and their sexlife, as it was. Maybe they weren’t greenies, and maybe they were ‘boring’ (Parella) but Val made her feel beautiful, and loved, and she didn’t want some stupid concoction running that.
But — that didn’t mean she was against hearing her friend babble about his experiences. Or refuse to. Whatever made him more entertaining was fine with her! Indivara grinned, a slow and predatory expression as blue eyes glittered playfully.