Hephaestia, you must be a necromancer because you are raising some spirits here. Harrowheart has quite literally not been so proud in years. He clasps one hand to his cheek and forces humility into his growing smile. But when Hephaestia asks if she can touch the blades he quickly becomes serious once more, though with a twinge of guilt rather than offense at her insistence.
One of his hands gestures in the air, dispelling the chains of ice that bind his weapons to his arms. The two halves of the blade float together and reunite with another flash of light, and the newly-reformed weapon hovers upright with its blade tip barely off the ground. As Harrowheart's hands busy themselves reattaching to their wrists he shakes his head at Hephaestia and tries for a mannerly though subdued smile.
"It's dangerous for the livin' to touch a runeblade. They'll give you thoughts I don't think your girlfriend'll appreciate too much."
He takes his blade by the handle and slips it back into its sheath, but not before it suggests its reluctance. It likes this woman! Hephaestia, darling, look at how it flashes its desperate goodbye! Poor child that it is, now it's locked away for a dark and lonely night in a scabbard.
It's only when the weapon is away that Harrowheart raises his eyebrows and inhales sharply through his nose. He looks around in concern and whispers to the girls, "I'm sorry, I didn't think... I probably ain't allowed to use that word out loud in a place like this, am I? I hope I didn't embarrass you."
But then a second or two pass and he scowls with a sudden determination. No, he's not going to be apologetic or guilty. "Not that you should be embarrassed," he says confidently, though he's mindful to keep his voice at a level meant only for the women. "There ain't nothin' at all wrong with ladies like y'all. Not on my world, not on Earth, not anywhere. I got a sister just like you, and I'm halfway like you, too, and I don't like the rules they whip up on Earth to tell folks like us we ain't right. And I-I know it's a heavy topic and I probably ain't supposed to bring it up at a party, but I been hopin' to meet you two for a while so I could get that off my chest."
He reaches out then, though he's positive he's not supposed to, and puts one hand on the shoulders of each of the women. "And I also wanna say... If anyone don't treat you right because of it, and you think I can get away with it... I'll show 'em where the bear shits in the buckwheat." He finishes that with a solemn nod. He's dead serious about whatever that phrase of his implies. Probably violence. That's LGBT solidarity straight out of Azeroth.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-06-21 03:06 pm (UTC)One of his hands gestures in the air, dispelling the chains of ice that bind his weapons to his arms. The two halves of the blade float together and reunite with another flash of light, and the newly-reformed weapon hovers upright with its blade tip barely off the ground. As Harrowheart's hands busy themselves reattaching to their wrists he shakes his head at Hephaestia and tries for a mannerly though subdued smile.
"It's dangerous for the livin' to touch a runeblade. They'll give you thoughts I don't think your girlfriend'll appreciate too much."
He takes his blade by the handle and slips it back into its sheath, but not before it suggests its reluctance. It likes this woman! Hephaestia, darling, look at how it flashes its desperate goodbye! Poor child that it is, now it's locked away for a dark and lonely night in a scabbard.
It's only when the weapon is away that Harrowheart raises his eyebrows and inhales sharply through his nose. He looks around in concern and whispers to the girls, "I'm sorry, I didn't think... I probably ain't allowed to use that word out loud in a place like this, am I? I hope I didn't embarrass you."
But then a second or two pass and he scowls with a sudden determination. No, he's not going to be apologetic or guilty. "Not that you should be embarrassed," he says confidently, though he's mindful to keep his voice at a level meant only for the women. "There ain't nothin' at all wrong with ladies like y'all. Not on my world, not on Earth, not anywhere. I got a sister just like you, and I'm halfway like you, too, and I don't like the rules they whip up on Earth to tell folks like us we ain't right. And I-I know it's a heavy topic and I probably ain't supposed to bring it up at a party, but I been hopin' to meet you two for a while so I could get that off my chest."
He reaches out then, though he's positive he's not supposed to, and puts one hand on the shoulders of each of the women. "And I also wanna say... If anyone don't treat you right because of it, and you think I can get away with it... I'll show 'em where the bear shits in the buckwheat." He finishes that with a solemn nod. He's dead serious about whatever that phrase of his implies. Probably violence. That's LGBT solidarity straight out of Azeroth.