Gill chuckled, snuffing the still burning fire on his arm out before anything caught fire. Fire safety when you were self immolating was really only a lesson you had to learn once or twice. "Well regardless, thank you for the message. If you have anything else you need please don't hesitate to come find me. Normally on the training grounds or the Butcher's Block when I'm in the keep."
He said with a small wave as he turned around, walking towards a...strangely understated set of small buildings. They shared much in the way of architecture with the surrounding keep, though bore little in the way of decoration.
The Butcher's Block wasn't its true name. Gillian very much doubted the three or so buildings, two being barely a story tall and more or less used as glorified storage, constituted having a name at all. It was more an informal title, granted by the more suspicious of their order, to where the various priestesses who oversaw the restoration and maintenance of Reliquaries resided. And, though not as often, were Living Reliquaries were made.
It was honestly a bit rude when he thought about it. The priestess' that oversaw his care didn't EXCLUSIVELY cut people up or work on old magical holy limbs. If they did, he'd imagine it be a fairly boring career overall. It wasn't like there was more than a handful of Living Reliquaries at any given time, and an artifact in storage probably only needed the occasional touch up anyway. "You're late." A young woman said, voice dark with agitation as she leaned on her staff, glaring daggers at Gillian.
Gillian shrugged, making to move past her without a word before her hand shot forward, grabbing the collar of his armor and pulling him to a dead stop. "You're late."
She said again, the normal warning in her tone now reaching a fever pitch. "Hilda. The trip was lovely. I missed you as well. Just counted the minutes till we were reunited."
Gill drawled, making no effort to escape. It would have been a lost cause anyway. Once Hilda had spotted him, it was pretty much a guarantee he was going to end up on a table. And, sadly, never in the fun way. Try as he might. "Thats SISTER Fristone."
She scolded as she dragged him into one of the buildings, spare furniture pushed to the side and a wide table placed at its center, a small shelf sitting beneath it with a variety of arcane tools Gill couldn't begin to understand the use of. "Disrobe. How are your arms? Did they perform adequately? Any lag in motion or discomfort?"
She asked, releasing him finally.
Gillian spared her the comment about it being traditional to buy him dinner before asking him to strip and began to doff his armor. "Damnedest thing Hilda. They fell off mid fight. Ran right off into the sunset. The captain had to fashion me new ones out of fairy dust and horse ejaculate."
He huffed as he struggled to free himself from his undershirt, his arm length making the task far more difficult than it had any right to be. "As charming as ever. Hold still."
Hilda scolding, helping him free himself. The otherwise embarrassing assistance being somewhat old hat to both of them at this point. "With an attitude such as that it is a wonder you are unwed. Lie down."
Gillian obediently followed the command, flinching as the cold wood brush against him. "I hardly think you of all people should be criticizing my sex life."
He grumbled as he felt hands brush along the overlapping plates that connected to his spine, carefully lifting each. It didn't hurt as such, but it was still too alien to ever fully get used to and he found himself forcing the instinct to flinch away from it out of his head. "Do not mistake my lack of interest in sex as inexperience in other avenues of romantic conquest. Clench your left fist."
She said, examining mechanism that Gill was deadly certain he didn't want to know about in action. She reaches into the small shelf, pulling out a thin wand with an odd green yellow crystal on its end. "My vow of abstinence shouldn't be confused for your vow of obstinance. You're lagging slightly. Which is why you shouldn't take skipping our sessions so lightly."
Gill scoffed but didn't argue. He couldn't feel the lag but if Hilda said there was lag, there was. "Skip these? And miss out on the riveting conversation? I would never."
he said as faint ghost sensations rumbled through him as the wand began its work. They sat in silence for a moment, both so the Priestess could concentrate on her task and so Gill could concentrate on not leaping from the table as the Mayonite fiddled with what he was pretty sure was the second most important part of his nervous system. "So...who was the girl you were speaking to in the court yard?"
She asks, finally putting away the dreaded wand and flicking his spines closed. "Princess' attendant. Apparently we're going to a party. Totally into me. Jealous?"
Gill chirpped, happy now that the worst of it was over and flexing his left hand once more, feeling the almost slight improvement. "That statement might bear more weight were you a woman. In more ways than one."
Hilda snipped back, moving to examine his arms. "You're attending then? I can have the formal dress for a Reliquary sent up to your room."
Gill groaned, burying his face into the grain of the table. "Mayon's Button no."
he said, Hilda reaching up and pinching his cheek painfully as reward. "Language."
She said coldly. "And its traditional. And you would look handsome in it.""I will LOOK..."
Gill rebutted, shooting the woman a pouting glare. "Like the worlds most fanciful amputated asshole.""Reon's Burning Sphincter of Might is both dignified and deserving of your respect. It is no less a Reliquary than your own."
Hilda responded, stone faced as she met Gillian's shocked and dumbfounded stare. "I...that....that is a thing? We have something like that!?"
He asked, suddenly feeling VERY grateful for his arms. "No. That was a joke and you are an idiot. You ARE wearing the formal robes. End of discussion."
She said, standing and leaving to retrieve the offending garments in question. Leaving Gillian to sink into the table and wonder if the Captain was going to have this hard a time with the news.
....And giving whatever hopes he might have had of actually impressing Alisha a summary execution.