[This is indeed very suspicious, and he kind of squints down at her when she hides the sketch by pressing it against her chest.]
Not the same thing as seeing one of your sketches and you know it.
[So he'll crouch down next to her, trying to shift at an angle so he can see what she's hiding. A hand comes out to tug gently at her arm, imploringly.]
Come on. I have to make sure you got my nose right.
[ So's the rest of him, and most of the rest of the Nest and some of the rest of the convoy. Also some aliens she admired on Shril. You don't want to see what she's been sketching since she got to Hyrypia, Noctis. Avert thine princely eyes. ]
[And now he's just reached the point of being stubborn, because whatever is on those pages is just beckoning for him to look, like the call of a siren. A siren of bad decisions.
He chooses to tug at the top of the actual sketchbook this time.]
[ Yes, Annie? It's just what, exactly? Her notebook slides through her fingers like so much sand as he plucks it up out of her protective grip. Huh. Well. ]
Uh. Porn. Mostly.
[ Yes, Annie. He can see that. Knots of people and faces and limbs, almost amorphous and unappealing unless you took the time to trace where each body part connected. Intricate and detailed for a bunch of horny scribbles.
[He smiles wide in self-satisfaction as he manages to free the sketchpad from her grasp. Noctis even gives a little "ha!", as if he's won some tiny victory in seeing what it is she's hiding from him.
That smiles slides right off of his face when he sees exactly what's staring up at him. At first it doesn't even register, as he was expecting some kind of portrait, done in chiaroscuro or some equally artistic fashion. What he's greeted with is an amalgamation of form, and his brain starts to put together that those are definitely bodies, intertwined and--
Yeah, porn.]
Annie, what the hell.
[He needs to look away. He can't look away. That is definitely his face on one of those bodies. (His nose is indeed rendered quite perfectly.)]
What are you- [Gods, why. His cheeks are already flushing red.] You can't draw porn of me. [And he repeats himself:] What the hell.
[How. How can she be so casual about it. At the very least, this is something you should ask someone about, before you toss their face in the middle of sketchbook porn.]
Oh my gods.
[He turns the sketchbook around so she can see, with one finger pointing at the body with his face on it.]
[ She snatches the sketchbook back before he can deface her cute horny prince Noctis. She tucks it back into her chest, sticking out her tongue, face wrinkling up like a little goblin. ]
[He contradicts her just because he can. It's ridiculous, arguing about how horny sketch Noctis feels about being portrayed in this way, but here they are.]
[Goddddd this is embarrassing, and yet he definitely has a hand in letting this escalate to the point where it just gets worse, because Noctis feels the need to be defensive.]
I don't care who you sleep around with, I just don't want you slapping my face on your... [Vague hand gestures in her direction] ...orgy drawings! Don't you see how that's weird?
[ Wow it actually sounds kinda dirty when he says it. Her mouth opens to say something and then closes, her eyes drifting upwards so that she's not looking at him while she collects herself. ]
It'd be weird if I scribbled a bunch of hearts around it or something like a fucking psychotic stalker.
[ No heart scribbling, just emotional pining, don't mind her :) ]
Or if they all had your face. Holy crap, that would be creepy.
[ She just wants him to understand that this could have been a lot worse. ]
[That was a mental image that he does not know what to do with. Enjoy that flitting through his head, Annie, the idea of Noctis on Noctis on Noctis on Noctis— He closes his eyes, shaking his head. The point is lost on him, because as far as he’s concerned she’s just made it even more unnecessarily awkward.]
You don’t have to scribble hearts, you just have to scribble me. My face.
[A hand is lifted up to gesture at said face. In case she needs clarification.]
[Noctis blinks at the pages once, twice. It’s a surprise, and yet it isn’t. He remembers, back when they had been fresh new broodmates, when she was sketching out his memories in a diner, during the chaos that was Shril. Faces rendered in both clear detail and gestural strokes.]
[ Don't telepathically mosh with alien punk bands, don't noisily bone the third broodmate, don't draw porn with his face. God, he's practically a dictator.
[ She makes a face at his retreating back, still glaring at him. If he thinks he's going to be sleeping he best be ready to have a bunch of paper footballs flicked at his head. ]
[ Mother... Hhh. She scuttles over to him surreptitiously to investigate his blanket barrier. It is impenetrable... She will have to change from ranged to melee offensive. So she just crawls on top of him and sprawls out. Excellent body pillow. ]
[And then there's an Annie shaped pressure on top of him, or at least, he can only assume so. He's in his blanket burrito right now, and he squirms around in retaliation. Good thing he isn't claustrophobic.]
[ Duh. Of course she's going to fixate on you now that you've taken her horny prince sketching rights from her. (As if. As-fucking-if.) She'll just pester the real thing. ]
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somnifacient) wrote2017-03-25 01:39 am
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[ Considering she shows him her drawings all the time, it is very suspicious when she tucks the notebook up against her chest with a frown. ]
There are such things as mirrors, Noctis. What the hell.
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Not the same thing as seeing one of your sketches and you know it.
[So he'll crouch down next to her, trying to shift at an angle so he can see what she's hiding. A hand comes out to tug gently at her arm, imploringly.]
Come on. I have to make sure you got my nose right.
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[ So's the rest of him, and most of the rest of the Nest and some of the rest of the convoy. Also some aliens she admired on Shril. You don't want to see what she's been sketching since she got to Hyrypia, Noctis. Avert thine princely eyes. ]
C'mon, I'm not done.
[ Like that's the reason............... ]
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[And now he's just reached the point of being stubborn, because whatever is on those pages is just beckoning for him to look, like the call of a siren. A siren of bad decisions.
He chooses to tug at the top of the actual sketchbook this time.]
What are you hiding?
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[ Yes, Annie? It's just what, exactly? Her notebook slides through her fingers like so much sand as he plucks it up out of her protective grip. Huh. Well. ]
Uh. Porn. Mostly.
[ Yes, Annie. He can see that. Knots of people and faces and limbs, almost amorphous and unappealing unless you took the time to trace where each body part connected. Intricate and detailed for a bunch of horny scribbles.
Also, his nose is in fact fine.]
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That smiles slides right off of his face when he sees exactly what's staring up at him. At first it doesn't even register, as he was expecting some kind of portrait, done in chiaroscuro or some equally artistic fashion. What he's greeted with is an amalgamation of form, and his brain starts to put together that those are definitely bodies, intertwined and--
Yeah, porn.]
Annie, what the hell.
[He needs to look away. He can't look away. That is definitely his face on one of those bodies. (His nose is indeed rendered quite perfectly.)]
What are you- [Gods, why. His cheeks are already flushing red.] You can't draw porn of me. [And he repeats himself:] What the hell.
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[ His offense slides right off her, like it really always does when it comes to her rampantly sexual nature. ]
You were sitting right there and he needed a face.
[ She is totally willing to own up to being a lazy artist. ]
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Oh my gods.
[He turns the sketchbook around so she can see, with one finger pointing at the body with his face on it.]
Erase it.
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[ She snatches the sketchbook back before he can deface her cute horny prince Noctis. She tucks it back into her chest, sticking out her tongue, face wrinkling up like a little goblin. ]
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[He contradicts her just because he can. It's ridiculous, arguing about how horny sketch Noctis feels about being portrayed in this way, but here they are.]
He's uncomfortable and embarrassed.
[Damn it, she's taken it away from him.]
Draw Nyx or something instead!
[Look under that bus, there's Nyx.]
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[ She points at him accusingly. ]
How can you even manage to still be like this after all the shit I've fucked? You need to get laid!
[ Even more forcefully accusatory. ]
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[Goddddd this is embarrassing, and yet he definitely has a hand in letting this escalate to the point where it just gets worse, because Noctis feels the need to be defensive.]
I don't care who you sleep around with, I just don't want you slapping my face on your... [Vague hand gestures in her direction] ...orgy drawings! Don't you see how that's weird?
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Only cause you looked at it!
[ This is not logic. This is victim blaming. Or something. She doesn't give a flip. ]
And you wouldn't care at all if you weren't all pink and pristine on the inside.
[ She is calling him a virgin, ok. ]
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It'd be weird even if I wasn't pink on the inside!
[Later, he will cringe at the memory of him parroting these words back to her. Right now, he's trying to make a point.]
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It'd be weird if I scribbled a bunch of hearts around it or something like a fucking psychotic stalker.
[ No heart scribbling, just emotional pining, don't mind her :) ]
Or if they all had your face. Holy crap, that would be creepy.
[ She just wants him to understand that this could have been a lot worse. ]
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You don’t have to scribble hearts, you just have to scribble me. My face.
[A hand is lifted up to gesture at said face. In case she needs clarification.]
You know, like— normal portraits.
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Ta-da.
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Stick with those, then.
[A beat. He sets his jaw.]
Okay?
[Okay?!]
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[ Don't telepathically mosh with alien punk bands, don't noisily bone the third broodmate, don't draw porn with his face. God, he's practically a dictator.
She glowers at him. ]
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[He almost huffs, then grabs at his nearby nest of blankets, the spot that he's claimed for sleeping.]
I'm taking a nap.
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Seriously?!
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You're so whiny. Are you napping or sulking?
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