12-28-2011, 05:34 AM
I don't know how to do that 
Sebastian chuckled warmly, taking another long drink of wine before he answered the giant. "Perhaps," he agreed breezily. "But agility and acrobatics are not the only things that count in a circus. I'm sure you could do a Strong Man act with ease," he complimented Jazper. If this imaginary circus ever appeared, perhaps the pair could even work out an act together. Such an act would probably comprise of the big black boy flinging Sebastian into the air to perform his acrobatics, which could certainly be fun.
Concordato," he agreed, raising an eyebrow with an impressed look upon his face as Jazper spoke some Italian. His accent wasn't that great, but it was perfectly understandable. Italian was a lovely language, far more flowing than the clipped pace of English. It was a shame that it wasn't more widespread. His eyes wandered surreptitiously to Jazper's muscular torso as the bulky brute spoke, distracted by all that muscle he really wanted to get a good feel of.
But he frowned as Jazper spoke of his wife, and felt a sudden mischievous hope. Perhaps Sebastian could be just the distraction he needed. The lean Italian knew he was very good at distractions.
"She threw you out because you wanted to start a pack with her?" he asked, incredulous. There had to be more to the story than that, but Sebastian didn't pry. It was none of his business, anyway. "Fenris needs to be a little more creative," Sebastian said robustly, placing his bottle of wine on the ground. Even though Jazper had drank nearly the whole bottle, he hardly seemed even tipsy. Oh well; the wine took a while to work, and it would probably take another few bottles to get someone so huge drunk.
The artisan leaned to the side and rested the back of his head in Jazper's lap, tantalisingly close to his prize. A playful smirk was on his black lips as he spoke, his voice huskier and smoother than it had once been.
"Perhaps I could provide a distraction," he offered, orange eyes darkened with lust for Jazper's powerhouse of a body. One coal-coloured hand reached up and idly traced the scars on the handsome man's chest, one claw per scar. His head tilted to the side questioningly, a smirk still on his face.
Sebastian chuckled warmly, taking another long drink of wine before he answered the giant. "Perhaps," he agreed breezily. "But agility and acrobatics are not the only things that count in a circus. I'm sure you could do a Strong Man act with ease," he complimented Jazper. If this imaginary circus ever appeared, perhaps the pair could even work out an act together. Such an act would probably comprise of the big black boy flinging Sebastian into the air to perform his acrobatics, which could certainly be fun.
Concordato," he agreed, raising an eyebrow with an impressed look upon his face as Jazper spoke some Italian. His accent wasn't that great, but it was perfectly understandable. Italian was a lovely language, far more flowing than the clipped pace of English. It was a shame that it wasn't more widespread. His eyes wandered surreptitiously to Jazper's muscular torso as the bulky brute spoke, distracted by all that muscle he really wanted to get a good feel of.
But he frowned as Jazper spoke of his wife, and felt a sudden mischievous hope. Perhaps Sebastian could be just the distraction he needed. The lean Italian knew he was very good at distractions.
"She threw you out because you wanted to start a pack with her?" he asked, incredulous. There had to be more to the story than that, but Sebastian didn't pry. It was none of his business, anyway. "Fenris needs to be a little more creative," Sebastian said robustly, placing his bottle of wine on the ground. Even though Jazper had drank nearly the whole bottle, he hardly seemed even tipsy. Oh well; the wine took a while to work, and it would probably take another few bottles to get someone so huge drunk.
The artisan leaned to the side and rested the back of his head in Jazper's lap, tantalisingly close to his prize. A playful smirk was on his black lips as he spoke, his voice huskier and smoother than it had once been.
"Perhaps I could provide a distraction," he offered, orange eyes darkened with lust for Jazper's powerhouse of a body. One coal-coloured hand reached up and idly traced the scars on the handsome man's chest, one claw per scar. His head tilted to the side questioningly, a smirk still on his face.