Thread: Lance & Dragons [Rave X Ironic]

I'm sorry-- If you saw me walking up to you, human on top and squirrel on the bottom, you wouldn't focus on the fact that I'm a mix of things that isn't exactly common or biologically imaginable? And yet here you are, born of a dragon, and a human. Of course I'm going to focus on it-- and of course the thought of Dragons makes me want to lance them, considering most of them have burnt just about everything humans made, or could make. He huffed, ignoring the nauseating comment because he didn't want to escalate a bickering war with her. Bigger man, Jarvan. Bigger man, he told himself. He tilted his head curiously for a moment as she took his calling of her halfling insultingly, and a brow instantly tose. Your mistake was in your assumptions. When I call you halfling, Shyavana, was it? It's not an insult. I did not add a deragatory tone to my wording of it. I couldn't care less if you were one quarter horse, two quarter dragon and one quarter sea snail. I found you threatning first-- then interesting. Your mixed blood is a quality, but clearly, you haveb't experienced too many people calling you halfling in a positive manner-- Leave my finger out of it! It's pointing because it has indeed, noticed your feminine structures. I will -not- be seduced. Not that there was any indication that this is what she was aiming for. In fact, in essence, he more or less admitted finding attraction in her form. Her smirk was captivating in its own right to be fair. A mix of feral, and yet...alluring? He couldn't get hs thoughts together. Then she spoke his name and snapped him out of it, explaining how she got to be the way she is and making her conception more understandable, at least enough that he could picture it. He was about to open his mouth to mouth off again, only the history she offered him up, extended hands and all, quieted him. It didn't seem like she had the easiest of upbringings. His face showed no signs of pity, though. It was simply solemn. Almost comically insulted. As if he had an unjustified problem with how she was treated and raised. Yet again he was going to open his mouth to speak, before her pride had her spin around like the best of Demacian ballerinas, wave her tail up and walk right the fuck away. Had his veins on his forehead been visible they'd pump just then and there. Hold up you maniacal storm of a woman-- by the love of Demacia. He grunted, and walked up and around her to stand in her way like a big, shiny, golden trunk of an absurdly handsome tree. LOOK. He'd call out so she wouldn't just walk around him either. You have my...ap...apo... He wasn't used to this. He was a prince. He didn't do it often. ...Apologies, if you took my calling you a halfling as insulting. I...actually find you a little bewildering if nothing else, but if you didn't cause the mess I'm here to fix, then you're hunting the beast that did. Our paths diverge. We are called to the same cause, for different reasons. He let out a long sigh, his cold breath forming mist in the air. You weren't wrong. I'm not familiar with the area. Not as much as I should be. I'm essentially lost in the cold without much hope of succeeding. That lance that threatened to spear you, could help pierce your father's murdered, mm?...If you'd stop boring a hole in my head with your stare long enough to see my sincerity.