05-21-2018, 01:18 AM
![[Image: jgC0ptA.png]](https://i.imgur.com/jgC0ptA.png)
Bastille looked amused at her question, peering back at her with an arched brow. What did she think she had so many foreign books for? To stare at the words and guess at their meaning? That seemed particularly useless, in his opinion. "Possum," he drawled, the word fluid and light on his tongue as he cocked his head to the side, "There's much more meaning imbedded in Classics when you read the Latin. You can't necessarily tell just how much of a sarcastic shit Ovid is until you see the word choice." A pause, and he smiled slyly at her, "Besides, Latin has many words for emotions than we do. The kind of each one tends to matter, with myth."
He didn't usually speak so freely or openly about his reading or interests with others, but he found that he didn't mind when it was Hazel. He wasn't even sure why he felt like he needed to explain his Latin abilities; it's not like he'd taught himself entirely, per se. A lot of it was inherited from Grimm -- he'd simply had to dig up the memories, teach himself to apply them, brush up on what he lacked or didn't get right away. The truth was that he was a cheater, getting many of his languages without the effort of language acquisition, but he didn't think Hazel was very interested in that part, any way.
"I can also speak German and French," he provided, as if she might blame him later for not admitting to all of his languages. A pause, and he squinted slightly. "Well, I think there's a bit of Russian in there somewhere, too, and I've dabbled in Greek, but I don't really care for them as much. I'm not quite as interested in collecting them all like Grimm is." He didn't seem to notice the foreign name or care; although he didn't seem to ever speak about who or what he was very much, Bastille wasn't actually hiding it. It just never happened to come up.
Besides, he was already being swept up in her response to being able to read. Bastille glanced sideways at her, looking away from Arion to consider her instead. There was something... soft, and quiet, something fragile about her words. Her smile in that moment was just so... sweet, in a way, and for a beat he felt at odds with it. Nothing he said should ever prompt such a tender reaction, but he stifled the urge to say as much.
"Well, I can try to teach you," he said after a moment, looking back to Arion as he ran a hand down the colt's neck. He flushed slightly, realizing he had no idea how to even teach someone else a different language -- if he fucked up and couldn't, she was going to hate him. Bastille almost wanted to take back the offer, to say he'd only let her down, but he bit his tongue and said instead, "I mean, you can speak it, so I feel like it might not be so hard."
He finally looked back to her when she gave her the colts name, and his mouth ticked upwards in amusement immediately. Of course. He wasn't sure why he thought it was typical that the horse would be named for mythology, but it seemed expected. He arched a brow at her as she continued to explain, looking even more amused, and after a beat he drawled idly, "You know you've seen my shelves, right? I know who Arion is." A pause, and then he grinned roguishly, "That, and you don't have to use the Greek names for me. I've read more than just Percy Jackson." Actually, he hadn't even read Percy Jackson, but that was besides the point.
At her question, he paused and blinked at her, caught off guard. Did she not already know it? He supposed he hadn't introduced himself, but Suite had chastised him, briefly -- by Bast, though, and he supposed that didn't immediately indicate his name. He would have figured she'd heard it in passing by now, but then again... Bast was terrible about actually offering his name, let alone his rank or anything people usually gave joiners. "Bastille," he said, and then, "Well, technically it's Bastillepaw. Starry doesn't really believe in naming traditions as much, though, and besides, I usually just go by Bast."
He didn't usually speak so freely or openly about his reading or interests with others, but he found that he didn't mind when it was Hazel. He wasn't even sure why he felt like he needed to explain his Latin abilities; it's not like he'd taught himself entirely, per se. A lot of it was inherited from Grimm -- he'd simply had to dig up the memories, teach himself to apply them, brush up on what he lacked or didn't get right away. The truth was that he was a cheater, getting many of his languages without the effort of language acquisition, but he didn't think Hazel was very interested in that part, any way.
"I can also speak German and French," he provided, as if she might blame him later for not admitting to all of his languages. A pause, and he squinted slightly. "Well, I think there's a bit of Russian in there somewhere, too, and I've dabbled in Greek, but I don't really care for them as much. I'm not quite as interested in collecting them all like Grimm is." He didn't seem to notice the foreign name or care; although he didn't seem to ever speak about who or what he was very much, Bastille wasn't actually hiding it. It just never happened to come up.
Besides, he was already being swept up in her response to being able to read. Bastille glanced sideways at her, looking away from Arion to consider her instead. There was something... soft, and quiet, something fragile about her words. Her smile in that moment was just so... sweet, in a way, and for a beat he felt at odds with it. Nothing he said should ever prompt such a tender reaction, but he stifled the urge to say as much.
"Well, I can try to teach you," he said after a moment, looking back to Arion as he ran a hand down the colt's neck. He flushed slightly, realizing he had no idea how to even teach someone else a different language -- if he fucked up and couldn't, she was going to hate him. Bastille almost wanted to take back the offer, to say he'd only let her down, but he bit his tongue and said instead, "I mean, you can speak it, so I feel like it might not be so hard."
He finally looked back to her when she gave her the colts name, and his mouth ticked upwards in amusement immediately. Of course. He wasn't sure why he thought it was typical that the horse would be named for mythology, but it seemed expected. He arched a brow at her as she continued to explain, looking even more amused, and after a beat he drawled idly, "You know you've seen my shelves, right? I know who Arion is." A pause, and then he grinned roguishly, "That, and you don't have to use the Greek names for me. I've read more than just Percy Jackson." Actually, he hadn't even read Percy Jackson, but that was besides the point.
At her question, he paused and blinked at her, caught off guard. Did she not already know it? He supposed he hadn't introduced himself, but Suite had chastised him, briefly -- by Bast, though, and he supposed that didn't immediately indicate his name. He would have figured she'd heard it in passing by now, but then again... Bast was terrible about actually offering his name, let alone his rank or anything people usually gave joiners. "Bastille," he said, and then, "Well, technically it's Bastillepaw. Starry doesn't really believe in naming traditions as much, though, and besides, I usually just go by Bast."
[align=center]![[Image: 4ySBjji.png]](https://i.imgur.com/4ySBjji.png)
the ascendants — cosmic general — tags
[div style="width:400px; margin: auto; text-align: right; font-size: 8px"]© MADI
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]