[ Kim is the same as he always is as Astarion washes up, stalwart, stoic, pragmatic. In this, he's just allowing Astarion the luxury of at least pretending he's alone, allowing himself in turn to recede into his own head, going through the checklist of things they have to try, going through every little everyday task that he's going to have to sort out while handcuffed to a stranger. It's fortunate that neither himself nor Astarion seem to be particularly shackled by the bonds of modesty, especially with Astarion's reflexive flirtatiousness (a clear affectation, and not one the man seems to disguise), and that they are both men. Sexual desire aside, he can imagine any woman shackled to him would have greater compunctions with the way things are going. ]
Ah. Yes. [ He puts his glasses back on, his eyes magnified by the thick lenses, and blinks a couple times as Astarion's form comes back into clarity. He pinches at the fabric as instructed, smoothing out the flaps of fabric between his fingers. ] I suppose that's better than having it flapping about. [ He gives a sniff. ] And you don't smell like blood anymore, so that's an improvement.
[ There's still the faint scent of it, a coppery tang that smacks against his soft palate, caught in the gentle steam of hot water, but it's not nearly as objectionable. It does mean he's caught in wondering about whose blood it was, but perhaps he'll discover that later.
Once Astarion's through, he deigns to leave his own sleeping shirt on (an oversized t-shirt; not respectable, but it will do), but fumbles one-handed into undergarments and a pair of trousers, not bothering to tell Astarion to look away despite his relative nudity. There's not much to look at anyway, just a pair of knobby legs taut with stringy muscle, only his shins faintly dusted with hair. ]
My vehicle came here not long ago. We'll take that anywhere we need to go. It'll beat the hell out of walking like this. You can call anyone you need to call on the way, if you need to let them know you're okay.
[ Kim hasn't called anyone to discuss his unfortunate situation and doesn't intend to, but perhaps Astarion is more sociable than him. ]
no subject
Ah. Yes. [ He puts his glasses back on, his eyes magnified by the thick lenses, and blinks a couple times as Astarion's form comes back into clarity. He pinches at the fabric as instructed, smoothing out the flaps of fabric between his fingers. ] I suppose that's better than having it flapping about. [ He gives a sniff. ] And you don't smell like blood anymore, so that's an improvement.
[ There's still the faint scent of it, a coppery tang that smacks against his soft palate, caught in the gentle steam of hot water, but it's not nearly as objectionable. It does mean he's caught in wondering about whose blood it was, but perhaps he'll discover that later.
Once Astarion's through, he deigns to leave his own sleeping shirt on (an oversized t-shirt; not respectable, but it will do), but fumbles one-handed into undergarments and a pair of trousers, not bothering to tell Astarion to look away despite his relative nudity. There's not much to look at anyway, just a pair of knobby legs taut with stringy muscle, only his shins faintly dusted with hair. ]
My vehicle came here not long ago. We'll take that anywhere we need to go. It'll beat the hell out of walking like this. You can call anyone you need to call on the way, if you need to let them know you're okay.
[ Kim hasn't called anyone to discuss his unfortunate situation and doesn't intend to, but perhaps Astarion is more sociable than him. ]