[ Sebastian laughs gently first to Set’s comment, and there’s a little smirk in response as Set pushes him back. He takes a seat as directed, and before he gets started, he can’t help but give a coy little comment back. ]
I hate to admit it, but you have certainly honed a talent for vexing me.
[ But clearly not so vexing that Sebastian is displeased with their arrangement, and even worse (in his opinion), he trusts Set with such a delicate procedure. Disgusting, honestly, and he even thinks so. Yet both of them operate in a similar way, and in truth, that’s what Sebastian trusts. They’re both conniving and dishonest, and you can always trust someone with that personality to act exactly as you expect.
He almost breathes out another laugh at Set’s comments about scars, but it’s immediately cut off with a sharp sound as Set’s fingers dig into his socket. As he had warned, the response is twofold. In the physical, Sebastian’s hands reach out and grab Set’s hips. It’s likely a partially teasing response in part considering their unusual relationship, but it is also the practical place before him to grip tightly. The strength is bruising, but at least he’s limited by his human form here.
But worse (to most, anyways. To Set, well—) is what comes through Communion. As soon as Set’s fingers dig into sensitive, raw flesh, those shadows from earlier return, though with notably less ferocity. There’s no vicious, feral fear here, but it’s a supernatural shiver of hot pain of exquisite clarity. As Set extracts the remaining gore, the black mass seems to writhe and contort in response to each instance of pain, its form morphing and reshaping with an unsettling fluidity. It twists and turns, creating grotesque appendages that reach out in a macabre dance, as if attempting to alleviate the source of its suffering by considering lashing out at Set and anyone else unlucky enough to be witness, but...
Sebastian is careful. Even if those shadows couldn’t do anything in this space, he hates them being seen at all. This is a reflexive gnashing in the core of what he is. It’s not reflected outwardly by anything more than biting down on his lip hard enough to immediately split the skin to swallow the sound that threatens to come out. Set fluidly pulls out the remains, and Sebastian gasps out a harsh sound, hoarse and barked out, but he shivers as Set leans closer. The shadows calm and return to whatever dark pool they hide in.
The pain doesn’t completely subside as Set, what—Licks at his wound? That’s what gets him to laugh, though it’s shaky as he comes down from the burst of adrenaline and pain. Oh, Set. ]
Haa— This is a new way to try and woo me, dear Set. [ Nb is left off this time—Whether that’s intentional or not isn’t clear. ] I shall not forget your attentiveness.
no subject
I hate to admit it, but you have certainly honed a talent for vexing me.
[ But clearly not so vexing that Sebastian is displeased with their arrangement, and even worse (in his opinion), he trusts Set with such a delicate procedure. Disgusting, honestly, and he even thinks so. Yet both of them operate in a similar way, and in truth, that’s what Sebastian trusts. They’re both conniving and dishonest, and you can always trust someone with that personality to act exactly as you expect.
He almost breathes out another laugh at Set’s comments about scars, but it’s immediately cut off with a sharp sound as Set’s fingers dig into his socket. As he had warned, the response is twofold. In the physical, Sebastian’s hands reach out and grab Set’s hips. It’s likely a partially teasing response in part considering their unusual relationship, but it is also the practical place before him to grip tightly. The strength is bruising, but at least he’s limited by his human form here.
But worse (to most, anyways. To Set, well—) is what comes through Communion. As soon as Set’s fingers dig into sensitive, raw flesh, those shadows from earlier return, though with notably less ferocity. There’s no vicious, feral fear here, but it’s a supernatural shiver of hot pain of exquisite clarity. As Set extracts the remaining gore, the black mass seems to writhe and contort in response to each instance of pain, its form morphing and reshaping with an unsettling fluidity. It twists and turns, creating grotesque appendages that reach out in a macabre dance, as if attempting to alleviate the source of its suffering by considering lashing out at Set and anyone else unlucky enough to be witness, but...
Sebastian is careful. Even if those shadows couldn’t do anything in this space, he hates them being seen at all. This is a reflexive gnashing in the core of what he is. It’s not reflected outwardly by anything more than biting down on his lip hard enough to immediately split the skin to swallow the sound that threatens to come out. Set fluidly pulls out the remains, and Sebastian gasps out a harsh sound, hoarse and barked out, but he shivers as Set leans closer. The shadows calm and return to whatever dark pool they hide in.
The pain doesn’t completely subside as Set, what—Licks at his wound? That’s what gets him to laugh, though it’s shaky as he comes down from the burst of adrenaline and pain. Oh, Set. ]
Haa— This is a new way to try and woo me, dear Set. [ Nb is left off this time—Whether that’s intentional or not isn’t clear. ] I shall not forget your attentiveness.