[Sampo has to make his brain switch gears from Gepard’s quixotic quest to have him recognized as a real boy in the eyes of Belobog to… what he’s doing tomorrow. Part of his plans are going to involve Gepard by necessity, since he’s the man’s on-call personal chef now, but aside from that? It would have been getting his nose back to the grindstone, finding ways to make that cash so that he can pay the rent on his safe houses and that sort of thing.]
[A little banal, maybe. If he was lucky, Nat would send him a text and ask him to do a little smuggling for her, that would liven up his life a little. But Gepard apparently wants to hang out with him or something?]
Nothing concrete, other than making your meals.
[Well, this is as good an excuse as any to take a hard pivot from the serious discussion they’d been having. Really brings down the mood, talking about how the whole city would want to run you out of town with fire and pitchforks.]
Anybody you could ask, and you want to hang around with little ol’ Figaro? [A grin, a wink.] How could I refuse? It would be a pleasure to help you relax, Captain.
[Were the good Captain the type, he might have been persuaded to really help him relax, in ways that would certainly make Gepard blush right to the roots of his blond hair. (He’d be delicious after that— but naughty Sampo, hands off the handsome man who doesn’t swing that way.)]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-05-27 04:03 am (UTC)[Sampo has to make his brain switch gears from Gepard’s quixotic quest to have him recognized as a real boy in the eyes of Belobog to… what he’s doing tomorrow. Part of his plans are going to involve Gepard by necessity, since he’s the man’s on-call personal chef now, but aside from that? It would have been getting his nose back to the grindstone, finding ways to make that cash so that he can pay the rent on his safe houses and that sort of thing.]
[A little banal, maybe. If he was lucky, Nat would send him a text and ask him to do a little smuggling for her, that would liven up his life a little. But Gepard apparently wants to hang out with him or something?]
Nothing concrete, other than making your meals.
[Well, this is as good an excuse as any to take a hard pivot from the serious discussion they’d been having. Really brings down the mood, talking about how the whole city would want to run you out of town with fire and pitchforks.]
Anybody you could ask, and you want to hang around with little ol’ Figaro? [A grin, a wink.] How could I refuse? It would be a pleasure to help you relax, Captain.
[Were the good Captain the type, he might have been persuaded to really help him relax, in ways that would certainly make Gepard blush right to the roots of his blond hair. (He’d be delicious after that— but naughty Sampo, hands off the handsome man who doesn’t swing that way.)]