I didn't say it was heavier than all armor. I said it was heavier than my armor.
[ Sometimes it's good to be technically correct when that's the most useful variety of it to be annoying. He pairs it with a grin for good measure and one last swoosh of the skirt by running a hand along it quickly just to show off the heft of it. Again. Claude's not going to argue that too much farther since Hilda has a valid point about how this dress probably weighs as much as the boots and greaves of his homeland's armor combined.
Besides, Hilda takes a seat to shake her hair out and that's far more pressing as he comes to stand behind her. A glance at the table nearby reveals none of them had left anything out which would've been entirely too helpful, and while he could easily step away to dig one out of his luggage there's something else here that'll work perfectly in the meantime. Claude reaches forward to comb his fingers through her hair working from the top to the ends, moving slowly to undo any tangles without snagging them in the process and possibly with more than a little appreciation. He has always enjoyed any chances he'd had for his hands to end up in her hair like this. ]
Awfully bold of you to assume I'm not going to tie your hair into knots for betraying me by putting me into this torture device I'm wearing.
[ Claude glances into the mirror to meet Hilda's gaze with a smirk if she's looking, purely for effect since they (hopefully) both know he's going to do no such thing regardless of offering to braid it now or not. Even while speaking, that he sections off part of her hair to start a medium sized braid with hair meant to be pulled back from her face and to overlay and wind into a larger braid with the rest tells on his actual plans all the same. ]
Then again, that's probably more like what Lorenz thinks I'd do if he allowed anyone to touch his hair. A braid would've been an improvement over what it was like at school, though that's not saying much since anything would've been better.
no subject
[ Sometimes it's good to be technically correct when that's the most useful variety of it to be annoying. He pairs it with a grin for good measure and one last swoosh of the skirt by running a hand along it quickly just to show off the heft of it. Again. Claude's not going to argue that too much farther since Hilda has a valid point about how this dress probably weighs as much as the boots and greaves of his homeland's armor combined.
Besides, Hilda takes a seat to shake her hair out and that's far more pressing as he comes to stand behind her. A glance at the table nearby reveals none of them had left anything out which would've been entirely too helpful, and while he could easily step away to dig one out of his luggage there's something else here that'll work perfectly in the meantime. Claude reaches forward to comb his fingers through her hair working from the top to the ends, moving slowly to undo any tangles without snagging them in the process and possibly with more than a little appreciation. He has always enjoyed any chances he'd had for his hands to end up in her hair like this. ]
Awfully bold of you to assume I'm not going to tie your hair into knots for betraying me by putting me into this torture device I'm wearing.
[ Claude glances into the mirror to meet Hilda's gaze with a smirk if she's looking, purely for effect since they (hopefully) both know he's going to do no such thing regardless of offering to braid it now or not. Even while speaking, that he sections off part of her hair to start a medium sized braid with hair meant to be pulled back from her face and to overlay and wind into a larger braid with the rest tells on his actual plans all the same. ]
Then again, that's probably more like what Lorenz thinks I'd do if he allowed anyone to touch his hair. A braid would've been an improvement over what it was like at school, though that's not saying much since anything would've been better.