[When the feed turns on, it shows Basch with fragments of glass in his hand, the remnants of something that used to be a perfume bottle.]
This was delivered to me erroneously, this morning. Upon inspection, it seemed to be a bottle of perfume, however--
[He cants his head, furrowing his brows a little.]
The thing was delicate. My apologies to any
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Everything is an innuendo right now, apparently.]
The thing was delicate. A term that many dislike being subscribed to.
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[Basch, why are you playing into this.]
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I have not stumbled in a long while, Balthier.
[Sparing with his words as usual, but there is a distinct touch of flirting there what is even going on here anymore]
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...Good thing they're not in a three-person room where the third person is prone to walking in at the worst possible timing.]
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So, what's going on now? He's tapping into a pool that remains largely untouched. This is clearly not what he'd had in mind when he'd first found that flimsy perfume package lying in reach.
Basch tilts his head and then moves the hand on Balthier's jaw to his cheek, coarse hands repositioning already formed contact. WILL HE APOLOGIZE FOR THIS LATER? Maybe. Probably. Who cares right now?]
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You go, Captain Ronsenburg.
As far as the sparring goes, Basch has not had much in the way of this manner of... jousting for a while, and thus takes a bit of time to adjust to Balthier's practice. He's a lot more straightforward with his affections, thank you very much, and fancy tongueplay is not his style. But that doesn't stop him from reciprocating (forgetting that he reeks of perfume, the main culprit) and chasing after Balthier's lips when the other goes up for air.]
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