( a woman sits alone, surrounded by a stack of books. if she giggles to herself, it's almost certainly because she's just ever-so-delighted by the wealth of knowledge she's uncovering here in this house of learning. if her quill moves in large, looping shapes it's probably because she writes in a particularly fanciful cursive and definitely not because she's drawing dicks and balls in the margins. or tits. definitely no tits.
it takes her a moment, focused as she is on absolutely-not-drawing-tits-in-margins, to realize that she's being spoken to. her eyes are immediately drawn to the jangly gold bracelets when she glances up, and her brow furrows. then she sees the rings, and her nose wrinkles.
tailored clothing? lip curl.
a mage's staff? full face scrunch.
by the time she's noticed the mustache, her expression is completely contorted into a mask of visceral disgust. )
library
it takes her a moment, focused as she is on absolutely-not-drawing-tits-in-margins, to realize that she's being spoken to. her eyes are immediately drawn to the jangly gold bracelets when she glances up, and her brow furrows. then she sees the rings, and her nose wrinkles.
tailored clothing? lip curl.
a mage's staff? full face scrunch.
by the time she's noticed the mustache, her expression is completely contorted into a mask of visceral disgust. )
Eugh, ( she says, succinctly. )