Jay blushes when R asks him to clarify "foolish" and decides to ignore the question. He's not about to explain contraception to someone, let alone in public. Plus, it's silly to assume that lecture's needed at such an early stage. Not everyone is him, after all.
Noticing R's stare, Jay removes his hand and blushes even harder, this time feeling genuinely awkward for having apparently overstepped social bounds. He's having a nice, civil conversation for once and he fucks up even there. Great. He hopes R at least got that his intent was to comfort, not to unnerve, but it's incredibly hard to tell. Why is R's face so ... immobile? Some sort of selective paralysis? Why, it almost looks like he's trying to talk through rigor morti--
Oh.
It finally dawns on Jay that he's talking to a risen corpse. A very lively and oddly personable and sweet risen corpse, but a risen corpse nonetheless. Wow. That certainly is different. Jay keeps his face as friendly as possible, however, and for the most part, does not slip up. He reaches out to brush R's fringe off his forehead, the coarse texture of his hair startling him a little.
"Just ... ah, I don't know what your world is like, but wear something ironed and pressed and matching. Just ... I mean, I realise not everyone enjoys being as colourful as I am, but looking clean and like you made an effort goes a very long way, darling!"
He wonders if he should share the story of how Raimut wooed him, but decides most people aren't death cultists, even the undead, and would not appreciate skulls.
no subject
Noticing R's stare, Jay removes his hand and blushes even harder, this time feeling genuinely awkward for having apparently overstepped social bounds. He's having a nice, civil conversation for once and he fucks up even there. Great. He hopes R at least got that his intent was to comfort, not to unnerve, but it's incredibly hard to tell. Why is R's face so ... immobile? Some sort of selective paralysis? Why, it almost looks like he's trying to talk through rigor morti--
Oh.
It finally dawns on Jay that he's talking to a risen corpse. A very lively and oddly personable and sweet risen corpse, but a risen corpse nonetheless. Wow. That certainly is different. Jay keeps his face as friendly as possible, however, and for the most part, does not slip up. He reaches out to brush R's fringe off his forehead, the coarse texture of his hair startling him a little.
"Just ... ah, I don't know what your world is like, but wear something ironed and pressed and matching. Just ... I mean, I realise not everyone enjoys being as colourful as I am, but looking clean and like you made an effort goes a very long way, darling!"
He wonders if he should share the story of how Raimut wooed him, but decides most people aren't death cultists, even the undead, and would not appreciate skulls.