[Ravus nearly chocks in his wine as Gladio reveals his inadvertent solicitation. His brain shorts out for a moment, and when it comes back online, it is unhelpfully filling in the true meaning of those messages he’d just read.]
...what...?
[He’s gone fully red, and he’s rarely struck speechless like this, so Gladio will see a rare sight. He tries to rally his dignity.]
What sort of degenerate society has shorthand for cock and not gardening? That’s absurd.
[And then there’s the implication that such a crass text worked for Gladio and that this was the reason Ravus’ more subtle hints had been subsequently ignored. Sober Ravus might have respected the efficiency of such a system, but Tipsy Ravus is aghast at the death of romance.]
You thought if I wanted you, I would send such a base message? Where is the art in that? That would be entirely devoid of seduction.
no subject
...what...?
[He’s gone fully red, and he’s rarely struck speechless like this, so Gladio will see a rare sight. He tries to rally his dignity.]
What sort of degenerate society has shorthand for cock and not gardening? That’s absurd.
[And then there’s the implication that such a crass text worked for Gladio
and that this was the reason Ravus’ more subtle hints had been subsequently ignored. Sober Ravus might have respected the efficiency of such a system, but Tipsy Ravus is aghast at the death of romance.]You thought if I wanted you, I would send such a base message? Where is the art in that? That would be entirely devoid of seduction.