He lolls his head back to look at Colin upside down, smiling. "Jone said we can find someone who'll teach me to fence," he replies, "I'll have to get a debonair black mask. And a cape."
"Sexy." He rolls over and scoots closer to Bene, resting on his elbows so they can look at each other comfortably. "You know, the Circle had some mages who were soldiers. They conjured spirit-blades for themselves and could mow through multiple lines of enemies at a time. You're in good company."
"Regular blades are sexy as well," Colin points out with quite a deliberate innuendo. "I'm just saying mages have a reputation for frailty that's entirely unearned. You don't have to be any more frail than anyone else."
"Well I do have a certain responsibility to keep my hands pretty," Bene points out, holding them up with a put-upon, plaintive look, "so the lighter, or more weightless, the sword, the better."
"You know it is," Bene replies with a grin, and apparently isn't even joking. "Can you imagine if they were all rough and calloused like a stablehand? Beyond the pale."
He reaches over his head to smoosh Colin's cheeks with his palms.
"The size?" Bene repeats, the actual meaning slowly dawning on him with a little smile.
"I'm talking about texture, Colin." He returns his hands to fold them over his chest, smirking upside-down at him. "Really, keep it in your trousers, you're impossible." HEH
"Just stating a fact," Colin says mildly. "I don't actually know about masochism. Haven't tried it. I'm up for doing almost anything at least once, though."
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Starting to feel good about the work you're putting in? [he asks as he gives Bene the up-down.]
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He's impressed, and also a bit surprised-- as far as he knows, mages never got to leave the Circles.
"Spirit blades would be pretty sexy. If I could conjure anything other than nightmares."
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He reaches over his head to smoosh Colin's cheeks with his palms.
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"You're listening to yourself, right?"
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He's actually concerned, but his hands are still smooshing over Colin's cheeks.
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"I'm talking about texture, Colin." He returns his hands to fold them over his chest, smirking upside-down at him. "Really, keep it in your trousers, you're impossible." HEH
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"You didn't say texture, you said weight, which implies size." A beat. "I might've been around Athessa too much."
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His hair has gone a bit askew since he leaned his head back, and he tucks a strand of it off to one side.
"Should I tell everyone your cock has the same heft as a greatsword? Maybe you'll finally make some decent friends."
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He briefly pretends to look sad before springing back to a smile.
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"Not much of a masochist," he remarks, "I'm a little surprised, honestly."
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"...I guess I don't either. It's just a word people say when they want to sound smart."
He purses his lips.
"I hope I sounded smart when I said it."
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"Very smart."