refiningspacetime: (smug)
refiningspacetime ([personal profile] refiningspacetime) wrote in [community profile] fleetlogs 2014-12-01 12:09 am (UTC)

"Rude! I don't - I'm not shilling for greenbloods," he says, appalled and laughing despite that. "What does that even mean?"

He leans against the wall - not because she told him to, but because he feels like he's going to fall over, and he'd rather OA not come out to him sprawled on the pavement. He can't read them very well, but he suspects they'd probably just leave him.

She's mocking him, and he's not really offended - fear is a thing that can cut through his foggy pan, evidently, but not real offense - but it's a familiar game, and an easy role to fall into. "I don't sound like that," he sniffs. "And - and - you're making it sound terrible, but it's not like it's untrue, is it? They're -"

Shit. He can't remember if you're meant to count your own caste, or not. He pauses, and then gives up. "Well! They're only three or four castes above us. And you've said worse! Besides, you can't talk about me and my parties, unless," he says, teasing, "we're still pretending you're not - haah - fooling around with poor Boopis?"

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