"That's exactly the way to describe it, yes." And exactly how to describe his life. In between his work he weaves an adventure into the depths of magic and mayhem, into the abyss time and time again. It's left its scars, on his hands and in his mind, and Claurant runs his fingers over a few of them as he thinks.
"I went for a bit of both. It ends overall well enough, but the protagonist is forever scarred and it's obvious." Was he predicting his own fate? Perhaps. "My agent said the original ending was a touch too grim."
He inclines his head towards the empty plate, still wringing his hands about each other. "I can fetch seconds for you if you want."
Claurant chuckles with a swirl of his wine, taking a measured sip before he speaks. "Maybe later," he says, and for a split second he wonders if he should have gone there, even as a joke.
The feeling's gone near immediately. Claurant regretting things is one thing, Claurant regretting an overtly flirtatious comment is almost unheard of.
"Well, you've never told me what you do. We can't just talk about me all the time, can we?"
You underestimate Claurant's capacity to flirt with just about anyone.
"Isn't that technically a career? Freelancing?" Claurant says, wondering if he misinterpreted him. "Some people do that. Who am I to judge you, honestly?"
"Yeaaaah I think technically it's just called being a loser." He says with a snort, "Which is fine. I work in order to pay rent, not to feel fulfilled."
"I can't name many people work is truly fulfilling for, and those few people are incredibly lucky. I wouldn't feel bad about it," he says assuredly, taking another sip of his wine.
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"I went for a bit of both. It ends overall well enough, but the protagonist is forever scarred and it's obvious." Was he predicting his own fate? Perhaps. "My agent said the original ending was a touch too grim."
He inclines his head towards the empty plate, still wringing his hands about each other. "I can fetch seconds for you if you want."
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"No thanks, any more and I'll have to unbutton my pants and you probably don't want to see that."
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The feeling's gone near immediately. Claurant regretting things is one thing, Claurant regretting an overtly flirtatious comment is almost unheard of.
"Well, you've never told me what you do. We can't just talk about me all the time, can we?"
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"Do? You mean like career wise? Nothing." He says with a grimace, "I work shitty jobs when I have to."
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"Isn't that technically a career? Freelancing?" Claurant says, wondering if he misinterpreted him. "Some people do that. Who am I to judge you, honestly?"
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