[ It seems for a split second like they've entered a weaponry shop, but then the colour drains from his face as he follows Molly in deeper and Fjord stiffens up, hands at his sides creeping up into folded arms so he can't touch any of it accidentally. The leashes, the dicks, the cages —
Heat creeps right back up into his cheeks at a dizzying pace, flushing them anew.
And he flees the fuck back outside, into the alleyway. ]
Heat creeps right back up into his cheeks at a dizzying pace, flushing them anew.
And he flees the fuck back outside, into the alleyway. ]
[ Part of him wants to shove Molly into the nearest bush and leave him there, frustration warring with embarrassment. The temptation of seeing him wear anything is awfully strong, however, and Fjord's frown wavers as he sorts through an inner debate. ]
... I've never been anywhere like that before.
[ Practically hissing under his breath so that people passing by the other end of the alley don't look their way. ]
... I've never been anywhere like that before.
[ Practically hissing under his breath so that people passing by the other end of the alley don't look their way. ]
I want to go in there with you.
[ It's more terrifying than chatting up whores and putting them on layaway, there's no 'whoops' situation to walking in there. It sends a cloud of anxiety into his brain that he isn't sure how to handle beyond pretending everything's fine and he's a tough guy who doesn't care, only he does. Toxic masculinity can get fucked, truly, he doesn't want to perpetuate that stereotype of a swaggering cowboy anymore, it's just that if he isn't that then all his defences are down and his coping mechanisms are zero.
His hands seek out Molly's. ]
I don't think I can be as open about some things as you are. [ He would rather be eaten by a dragon than accept a fake dick off someone (other than Jester's weird little statues to the Traveller). Fjord's new coping mechanism needs to be Molly. ] I ... am willing to try.
[ It's more terrifying than chatting up whores and putting them on layaway, there's no 'whoops' situation to walking in there. It sends a cloud of anxiety into his brain that he isn't sure how to handle beyond pretending everything's fine and he's a tough guy who doesn't care, only he does. Toxic masculinity can get fucked, truly, he doesn't want to perpetuate that stereotype of a swaggering cowboy anymore, it's just that if he isn't that then all his defences are down and his coping mechanisms are zero.
His hands seek out Molly's. ]
I don't think I can be as open about some things as you are. [ He would rather be eaten by a dragon than accept a fake dick off someone (other than Jester's weird little statues to the Traveller). Fjord's new coping mechanism needs to be Molly. ] I ... am willing to try.
Gods, no, I don't want to make a fuss. [ He can't watch Molly try things on in there, he'd get hard and would have to immolate on the spot. Being focused on sounds horrible. ] What if we just walk around together, you can pick anything you want and we'll get it right now.
[ However much gold he has is all Molly's, it's a small detail. ]
[ However much gold he has is all Molly's, it's a small detail. ]
[ He catches sight of what the clerk is tidying and wonders why the earth isn't opening up to end his misery. Right, focusing on Molly, that's all he has to do. ]
Red.
[ It's his favourite colour, blurting it without thinking. He has to pause a moment later as he looks up at the lingerie hanging in the shop, eyes widening at the array of choices. ]
Um, white too?
[ It's pretty, shut up. ]
Red.
[ It's his favourite colour, blurting it without thinking. He has to pause a moment later as he looks up at the lingerie hanging in the shop, eyes widening at the array of choices. ]
Um, white too?
[ It's pretty, shut up. ]
[ He still wears a little of that red cord to hold his cloak on, now giving it the stinkeye when he notices where Molly's gaze lingered. The lingerie is pretty (of course it is, everything is lewd to a fault and he's already sporting dark green ears from the thought of Molly in all of it) and the jewellery is too, he supposes, but none of the latter interests him. He veers away from clamps to pretend to inspect some relatively normal necklaces. ]
Subs ... ?
[ It takes him a second, then he dumps the necklace and hurries after Molly in case some invisible customer thinks Fjord is. Specific. In his needs.
The oils and whatnot resemble potions, unable to read more than the Common ... and, weirdly? A few in Orcish. It should be surprising, but somehow it's not: orcs fight or fuck, of course they use lube. ]
I'll be damned.
[ It takes him a second, then he dumps the necklace and hurries after Molly in case some invisible customer thinks Fjord is. Specific. In his needs.
The oils and whatnot resemble potions, unable to read more than the Common ... and, weirdly? A few in Orcish. It should be surprising, but somehow it's not: orcs fight or fuck, of course they use lube. ]
I'll be damned.
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