"I'm feeling lovely," Jedao promises, which is true, but also he's probably about five minutes away from starting to fret about how to wrap things up without seeming callous. His erection has also mostly faded, which is another point in favor of moving. "You've done a wonderful job taking care of me. Is there anything else I can do for you before we go?"
"Alright," Jedao says warmly. He does feel grounded and ready to go, but he's still just a little wistfully reluctant as he eases out of Astarion's arms.
He groans a little as he stretches. Astarion can see the effects of his healing: the places he broke the skin are already mostly healed, with only tiny dark seams in place of cuts, like little lines of ink on his skin. The welts are still starkly visible, red and raised, surrounded by lurid purple bruises fading to green in a few places, day-old bruises instead of less than an hour.
Astarion looks, and fights down the impulse to reach out and touch. To
worry at those bruises with his fingertips and bring their sting up fresh.
His healing, certainly, is fast. Faster than he'd expected, honestly. He
glances down at the dark, sticky patches of blood left on his shirt.
"Ah - will this launder out by normal methods, or do I need to be more
cautious?"
It doesn't feel caustic where it's making contact with his skin, but one
can't be too careful.
Jedao looks sheepish as he shrugs on his own black sweater.
"Uh - probably good to soak it quick, actually, with something mildly acidic, I can give you some vinegar." It's not caustic - and is slightly alkaline, if anything - but it's also not fully machine washable. "It should wash out after that, but if it stains, just bring me the shirt, I'll stick it in the drawer with my uniforms for a day, they have cleaning nanites - very tiny little machines that just do one job."
"Alright." He stretches one more time, cracks his neck, then collects the whip from the air.
"Call me anytime," he says warmly, and moves toward the barred door, slowly enough for Astarion to walk out with him if he'd like, but without staring back to wait for him either, if Astarion wants to stay in the Enclosure a little longer.
The temptation to stay and perhaps ask something else of the Enclosure is
certainly present, but ultimately he decides against. He's not sure he'd be
able to resist the temptation to turn the place into somewhere that'll make
him feel angry or maudlin.
So he follows Jedao out, and bids him a farewell and a smile before
retreating below the deck.
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"I couldn't agree more."
He returns to touching Jedao's hair, petting lightly.
"How are you feeling now? You seem a little more...centred."
Less floaty, more focused.
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"No," he says. "No, you've been excellent company, pet. We can relinquish this place to other visitors as soon as you're ready."
He's not particularly elegant on the dismount, simply for lack of practice, so being able to couch this in terms of Jedao's needs is...easier.
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He groans a little as he stretches. Astarion can see the effects of his healing: the places he broke the skin are already mostly healed, with only tiny dark seams in place of cuts, like little lines of ink on his skin. The welts are still starkly visible, red and raised, surrounded by lurid purple bruises fading to green in a few places, day-old bruises instead of less than an hour.
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Astarion looks, and fights down the impulse to reach out and touch. To worry at those bruises with his fingertips and bring their sting up fresh. His healing, certainly, is fast. Faster than he'd expected, honestly. He glances down at the dark, sticky patches of blood left on his shirt.
"Ah - will this launder out by normal methods, or do I need to be more cautious?"
It doesn't feel caustic where it's making contact with his skin, but one can't be too careful.
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"Uh - probably good to soak it quick, actually, with something mildly acidic, I can give you some vinegar." It's not caustic - and is slightly alkaline, if anything - but it's also not fully machine washable. "It should wash out after that, but if it stains, just bring me the shirt, I'll stick it in the drawer with my uniforms for a day, they have cleaning nanites - very tiny little machines that just do one job."
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"Thank you. I have vinegar in my cabin, I think - it's useful for more mundane bloodstains, in my experience."
He stretches languidly, like a cat deciding it's had enough time at rest, and then unfolds onto his feet.
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"Call me anytime," he says warmly, and moves toward the barred door, slowly enough for Astarion to walk out with him if he'd like, but without staring back to wait for him either, if Astarion wants to stay in the Enclosure a little longer.
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The temptation to stay and perhaps ask something else of the Enclosure is certainly present, but ultimately he decides against. He's not sure he'd be able to resist the temptation to turn the place into somewhere that'll make him feel angry or maudlin.
So he follows Jedao out, and bids him a farewell and a smile before retreating below the deck.