Lev looks intently at Hawkeye, his mouth twitching between a smile and a crooked grin hiding confusion. By him, Hawk seems to be lumping several different things into the same category. He's not quite sure where to start untangling the miscommunication, especially since it's not the layers of confusion he wants to unpeel right now.
"Nu, like, we do have the chymical arts," he says, a little defensively. "Feh, we're civilised enough, even in Galitziya! We have the apothecary's art, and the alchemist's art both. But like …" he pauses, and drums his fingers on his collarbone. "The nesher, he has nothing to do with any of that. He is merely the king of the birds. Like, the true king of the birds, not the eagle, nor the hawk." He cocks his head, and smiles coquettishly at Hawkeye. "He soars above all, and casts dark shade with his vast wings. Hawks and falcons, they're sweet and charming, but nu, they're rather like cats. A nesher is to such as a lion is to a cat."
But Hawk's next comment takes him aback. He blushes, and claps his hand over his mouth, to stifle startled giggling.
"Uhm, nu, like," he begins, stuttering, and then collapses into abashed giggles. "Um. No, no, I'm b'ney Adam, same as thee. I'm a nephil, true, but like. It's like, been long established that our Torah uses the word in a manner it is not used by the people, especially not in the modern age. But nephilim are nu, common. Everyone who's not a shoggah hatched from their hive, they're a shoggah born to another shoggah, and thus one of the nephilim. Um. I like, rather mislike the habit of distinguishing someone what looks like thee as a lovek and myself as a nephil proper. Feh. Based on mere looks!"
He bites his lip, and then his face lights up with a smile.
"Were I an angel, nu, I would not be at liberty to flirt with thee," he says, looking down, suddenly shy. "The messengers of the Heavens, they have no such free will, no such liberties. They don't get a Torah, nu? Because they don't fuck, nor do they sleep, and nor do they die. They have no need of laws, nor of consolation."
no subject
Lev looks intently at Hawkeye, his mouth twitching between a smile and a crooked grin hiding confusion. By him, Hawk seems to be lumping several different things into the same category. He's not quite sure where to start untangling the miscommunication, especially since it's not the layers of confusion he wants to unpeel right now.
"Nu, like, we do have the chymical arts," he says, a little defensively. "Feh, we're civilised enough, even in Galitziya! We have the apothecary's art, and the alchemist's art both. But like …" he pauses, and drums his fingers on his collarbone. "The nesher, he has nothing to do with any of that. He is merely the king of the birds. Like, the true king of the birds, not the eagle, nor the hawk." He cocks his head, and smiles coquettishly at Hawkeye. "He soars above all, and casts dark shade with his vast wings. Hawks and falcons, they're sweet and charming, but nu, they're rather like cats. A nesher is to such as a lion is to a cat."
But Hawk's next comment takes him aback. He blushes, and claps his hand over his mouth, to stifle startled giggling.
"Uhm, nu, like," he begins, stuttering, and then collapses into abashed giggles. "Um. No, no, I'm b'ney Adam, same as thee. I'm a nephil, true, but like. It's like, been long established that our Torah uses the word in a manner it is not used by the people, especially not in the modern age. But nephilim are nu, common. Everyone who's not a shoggah hatched from their hive, they're a shoggah born to another shoggah, and thus one of the nephilim. Um. I like, rather mislike the habit of distinguishing someone what looks like thee as a lovek and myself as a nephil proper. Feh. Based on mere looks!"
He bites his lip, and then his face lights up with a smile.
"Were I an angel, nu, I would not be at liberty to flirt with thee," he says, looking down, suddenly shy. "The messengers of the Heavens, they have no such free will, no such liberties. They don't get a Torah, nu? Because they don't fuck, nor do they sleep, and nor do they die. They have no need of laws, nor of consolation."