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He raised an eyebrow in her direction. "That is what I said, yes. Is there an issue?"
Opposing Tides (Private RP with Circe)
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"You're so formal," she teased, "One would think you would strive to educate yourself on the intricacies of privateer dialect, as one would ordinarily desire to conform with one's environment." She rolled her tongue over the overly formal words, a grin steadily spreading over her lips the more she spoke. She even gave him the honor of hearing her Greek accent.
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"I will not conform to my surroundings," he said defiantly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I am and will always be myself."
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She rolled her eyes with a small, breathy laugh. "Stubborn as always, I see. I'm only saying you should try to pick up on pirate talk if you want to not stand out as much."
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"I have you to speak for me," he said, scooting a bit farther up on the bed. "I do not see the need for it."
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"I'm not always going to be glued to your side, Anthony," she reasoned, "I'm not always going to be there to be your speaker."
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"I will figure it out when I get there, then," he said, shifting the towel to a different spot on his knee. "It has worked for me so far."
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She sighed and rolled her eyes, knowing that arguing further wouldn't end with her coming out on top. "Fine, fine. But at least work on combining words, like don't, can't, I'll, need I go on?"
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He scrunched up his nose at the thought. "But it is so undignified."
His princiness was showing.
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(physics lesson on net force. We're pushing 7th graders now, ig)
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(I wish I could legally push 7th graders)
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She sighed, though the exhaled breath was combined with slight laughter. "You are, by far, the most princely person I have ever met."
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((I mean, you could))
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"Oh, you never met my brother," he said, smiling along with her. "He demanded a new horse every week and actually wore a crown. Personally, I despise the things. Very uncomfortable."
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"Unnecessarily heavy," she agreed with a nod, folding her legs so she was crosslegged, "And bejeweled. Tiaras aren't any better. I prefer headdresses. Fancy but lightweight and require no balancing act."
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"I did not particularly like anything that covered my head," he said with a shrug. He twisted around on the bead and laid his back down, his head resting next to one of her knees. "I used to wear earring, though."
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She arched a brow and, after a brief moment of hesitation, dropped a hand down to lightly brush her fingers over his hair. "I've got a collection should you want to go on a raid." She then tilted her head and regarded her inked arm. "We need.to get you some ink as well." Her lips pulled back in a smirk. "Maybe a crown."
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"I would not be against that," he admitted, his eyes closing slightly when she began playing with his hair. "And I think the holes in my ears have closed by now."
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She ducked her head, her hair falling to frame her face, and peered at his ears. "Mmmm, I think they're still there. If you have earrings long enough, the holes stay." She smiled softly and tapped his nose. "And I can arrange a crown tattoo."
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"Where should it be put, though?" he asked, scrunching is face up when she tapped his nose.
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She circled his shoulder with a finger. "Shoulder, maybe? Front or back." She was honestly surprised he was going along with the crown tattoo idea.
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"Front," he said after a moment of deliberation. "It will be easier to clean if it is in the front."
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"Alright, front it is. But you're not getting it until you're fully healed," she added with a mock stern look.
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"What do my legs have to do with a tattoo?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.
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She poked his chest in retaliation for his pouting. "I'd rather you be healed and fine before sticking a needle in your skin."
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"I don't agree with that logic," he grumbled, batting her hand away. "I cannot see the use in waiting."
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"Ha, there you go!" She grinned and poked his chest again. "You said don't. And you don't agree with anything."
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"Bah. You heathens are influencing me in a bad way," he said in a mock-grumpy attitude. "Pretty soon I will be cursing up a storm and getting drunk every night."
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She grinned, leaning over him so their faces were aligned. "Why's that such a bad thing, Prince Anthony?"
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"Hm…." he smiled back. "Not much, I suppose. Beats the alternative of a gruesome death at the hands of revolutionists."