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Who: Ginko and Foster
What: Ginko has questions and Foster has somewhat questionable answers. Also talking about the nature of happiness or something
When: early in Heartstone; let's say Day 172? also it's night
Where: Ginko and Foster's room
Warnings: Foster van Denend explaining BDSM

The thing about being friends with Ginko - or even vaguely positive acquaintances - is that the more time you spend around him, the greater the chance of him abruptly broaching potentially-strange questions about whatever happens to be on his mind. In this case, something that's been on his mind for a good while now, but... well, he's had a lot of other stuff to think about.

So now, in a relatively low-stress moment, sitting on his bed and staring at the ceiling for lack of better ideas for things to do, he turns to Foster.

"...What was that that Sans mentioned? A dominatrix?"

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Foster is stretched out on his bed, but face down, his furry arms wrapped around his pillow. The only proof he's actually awake is the occasional movement of his tail, and the way he keeps running his claws back and forth over the fabric of the bedspread--back and forth, back and forth, the physical texture a sedative for the insistent buzzing of his unquiet mind.

Until Ginko speaks.

The question doesn't process immediately--his conscious brain wasn't even on, let alone ready for language, so it's not until he remembers where Ginko must have heard the word that his incomprehension resolves itself and his head comes up, his brows creased.

"What? Really?"

Okay so apparently he said something funny. Or Foster is being Foster. Either way, Ginko scowls over at him, his ears flipping back.

"What? I think that was it, but I'm not... what is it?"

"How long have you been sitting on this?"

Foster starts laughing, pinning his pillow down beneath his heavy paws. He knows other people's memories don't work like his, but still, wasn't that weeks ago?

Yes. It was.

In that case--

He stops laughing all at once, regarding Ginko evenly.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Hey, it hasn't exactly been the only thing on my mind. There weren't a lot of chances to ask about it, either." In other words, ever since Sans said it.

"...See, I'm pretty sure I do, but you asking like that makes me less sure. I mean, I can gather that it has something to do with your whole... fixation on being insulted."

"Is that what you'd call it? A 'fixation?'"

He does... sound genuinely interested, but the lack of smile and heavy-lidded stare makes for a dispassionate stare that Ginko has to weather regardless of how he answers.

"Well... you're partially right." He smiles again, but this time it's thinner, more significant.

"Uh... yeah, it is, actually. Unless you've got a better word in mind for it." He raises his eyebrows at Foster, one ear flicking.

"'Partially', huh. So, what am I missing?"

This... is not where Foster was expecting this to go.

He very rarely gets a glimpse of how others see him... only how they want to see him, which he finds disgusting. He is even more rarely offered a chance to tell people how to see him by their own invitation.

Which--

Mmmm.

Hmmmm.

"That depends." He regards Ginko evenly--still smiling that same, superficially thin smile. "Which question do you really want the answer to?"

"...Let me guess, I can't get answers to both."

Ginko sighs and sits back on his bed, looking up thoughtfully at the ceiling. "The first one, I think. Getting kinda tired of wondering about that."

"Hahahahaha!"

Ginko, do you really think Foster is capable of having two conversations at once? He is frequently unable to have one conversation with much clarity.

But insisting on exclusivity serves more purpose than just keeping things coherent. By forcing Ginko to make a choice between his initial, guileless inquiry and his second more explicit one, Foster simultaneously forces Ginko to decide on his priorities and asserts control over the flow of information.

He also buys himself time.

Truth be told, he doesn't know.... how he wants to answer that other question. Or how much he (mis)trusts Ginko with it. There are varying degrees of honesty and dishonesty, but...

Well. That's for later!

Laughing, as much as it says on its own, isn't really an answer.

...Really.

Really.

And here he goes.

Over the course of a couple seconds, Ginko's expression shifts from confusion and alarm, to concern, to annoyance.

Then he just... waits. For him to be done.

That's fine, it's not like he just said he was tired of wondering about this or anything.

Sorry, Ginko, but you have to admit: hearing you pick pornography over personal matters is a little like seeing Foster go for the fluffy bunny instead of the jar of blood.

Anyway, he's done now, and giving this matter some serious thought.

The problem is that no one ever really explained it to him. He sort of fell ass backwards into it, as people misinterpreted him and he misinterpreted them and he found that it suited him just fine that way.

"Dominatrix..." He's pensive for another moment.

Actually.

That. Hm. He just realised something about Ginko.

He looks back up.

".... do you ever feel excited at all?"

In fairness, he has absolutely no idea what he's asking, which is why he's asking to begin with.

He does not, however, appreciate his question being answered with another question. Particularly not that one, which... should he be insulted by that? He kind of feels like he should maybe be insulted. Ginko scowls at Foster, his ears flipping back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"If you had, you'd know," is Foster's cryptic response. Ginko can be insulted or confused or whatever else, it makes Foster's job a lot more daunting. He's not great with words and they both know it. He can wax poetic about some things, but how is he supposed to describe something like desire or arousal or that unique combination of excitement, physical and psychological... he has no idea how to put it into words.

But maybe.... maybe he can make it clear.

With that thought, he rises fully off his bunk, shaking some of his trailing blond coils from his face as he crosses to Ginko's half of the room. He stops at the end of the bed.

"How do you feel about... power?"

Okay, now he's just wondering even more what the hell that was supposed to mean. It's not his fault Foster's phrasing is always so weird and vague. Was he asking if Ginko has any topics he enjoys? Was it a sex thing?? He doesn't know.

Of course, Foster's next question doesn't clear much of anything up. Ginko squints at him, and his tail thumps against the bed. "I... think that it can be a problem if given to the wrong people...? What are you getting at here?"

Foster manages not to laugh this time, but it's a near miss. That tells him plenty of what he needs to know, but also really doesn't help him explain this in any way.

He has only a vague idea of how he plans to get this idea across--

Without a word, he climbs up on the bed and towards Ginko, stopping only when he's close enough to slide over the deerman's legs, and settle himself expertly over.... uh. Well.

He leans in just a couple inches from Ginko's eye, eyes lidded. Smiling.

"How about now?"

Ginko blinks and starts to open his mouth to ask what on Earth or any other world Foster is doing - then he just kind of DEPOSITS HIMSELF ON GINKO'S CROTCH and that explains almost nothing, except that this probably is a sex thing after all and Ginko has a lot of regrets. He makes a strangled, vaguely offended noise, and tries to just kind of... scoot out from under Foster.

"--I feel like you need to get off of me! I didn't ask for a damn demonstration!"

Foster obliges immediately, swinging one leg over Ginko's lap to remove himself, then goes one step further and seats himself on the edge of the bed, his legs hanging off the side.

If he's confused or annoyed by Ginko's reaction, it doesn't show in his face. He just sits at the edge, his expression unreadably mild.

He's just waiting on Ginko.

Ginko sits upright, relieved, and scoots back a bit on his bed. He presses his palms over his eyes for a moment as he thinks.

"Alright, so... it's, what, someone who drags you into sexual situations with no warning?" Is he seriously asking or just being rude? Who knows.

Foster remains seated on the edge of the bed, staring sort of neutrally at his own bunk while he waits for Ginko to recover his marbles. There's something uniquely calm and still about him.

Ginko should probably try yelling at him more often.

"It can be." Foster replies after a second's delay to process it. He isn't even going to call that wrong, because it's not. That's part of the excitement of it... or it is to him, anyway. If Ginko is being rude, Foster absolutely doesn't care. That doesn't even begin to be a metric Foster cares about--or even notices, most of the time.

"It's.... mmm. Asserting power as part of sex, I guess." He pauses, then adds:

"Sometimes in costume."

Honestly, he probably won't, because this is actually kind of weird. Sure, Foster's usual behavior can be distressing, but... so is this, maybe just because of who it's coming from.

"...Right. Okay." Well. Now he knows, he guesses, which... sheds new light on what Sans was saying, for sure. Was it worth it. "Couldn't you have just said that to begin with?"

"No," Foster replies promptly. He still doesn't look at Ginko--he's lifted his head and is staring benignly into the far wall, as though perhaps there is something in the wallpaper that makes his job clearer.

"And I probably wouldn't... know how to say it, if someone else had to ask. So please don't ask me again." He smiles--brightly, easily, and pointlessly at the wall. As though admitting his own persistent incompetence is a place of absolute comfort for him.

Actually, it is.

"...Fair enough. I won't." He sighs and leans back against the headboard of his bed, staring up at the ceiling... then he makes a face.

"Of course, now I have to live with the knowledge that Sans told you to pay him for power-based sex, but I guess I did bring that on myself."

Foster... cracks up.

Not sarcastically, either; he ends up lying back on the bed, still laughing.

Okay, so maybe he has a real sense of humour sometimes.

Ginko raises his eyebrows at Foster, partly out of surprise. He's not sure he's heard Foster genuinely laugh since Portland. If he has, it hasn't been very frequent, for sure. It's kind of a nice change.

He snorts and looks away, hiding the grin creeping over his own face. "Glad someone is enjoying this."

He gives another short laugh, but seems content to just lie on Ginko's bed for a moment, a look of something like idle peace on his face--at least for a moment. It's still not ideal; he drooled on himself a little while laughing, for example.

And then there's the next sentence that comes out of mouth.

"....I wonder if he actually has anything in his pants."

Ginko makes a noise like his ribs are being crushed and presses his hands over his face.

"If he does, I don't want to know about it. In fact, I don't want to think about the possibility that he might."

Foster, however, is thinking about it. He can't not, now that it's occurred to him--the intrusive thought train started as a harmless idea and now he's picturing it, a humanoid, fleshy dick and balls, just... floating, somehow, right in front of Sans' bleached-white pelvic bone.

"If he... if he doesn't, then does he wear underwear?" Mind that Foster doesn't wear underwear, which is a bit of trivia Ginko might or might not remember from Portland, but this is irrelevant to the question at hand. He sits up, and looks at Ginko like he's genuinely troubled about this.

Edited 2017-10-27 01:47 (UTC)

Please never describe that to Ginko. Ginko, who, upon hearing that, rolls onto his side, away from Foster, his hands still over his face.

"I have absolutely no idea, and I don't plan to think about it. Maybe you should ask him. And not me."

Foster stares at Ginko for just a moment, upside-down. Then the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile--clearly insincere.

"I could ring him up on the radio," he offers. And before Ginko can protest, he rolls off the bed and onto his feet to retrieve one.

In fairness, Ginko absolutely should have anticipated this. Somehow having failed at that, though, he makes a strangled noise and jumps to grab the nearest radio before Foster can - which would probably go better if he hadn't been lying on his bed to start with.

"I didn't-- oof!"

Yep, he's on the floor now.

Foster, on the other hand, went into motion with his plan already in mind. True, his radio is on his own bunk, mashed down between the pillow and headboard where he'd previously 'lost' it. But Ginko's is out in plain sight.

Foster makes a beeline for it while Ginko's face becomes better acquainted with the floor, even stepping neatly over the prone deer man on his way there.

He snags the radio with his long claws and begins to fiddle with the dial.

He's got a tight, almost smug smile on his face as he tunes through the channels.

Dammit that did not go as planned at all. Ginko pushes himself to his feet and makes a grab for his radio. "Cut that out! You can ask him when I'm not around to hear it!"

Too late.

Foster raises a paw, effectively cuing Ginko to silence as he presses the radio to one stiff, furred blond ear. Like a cell phone, basically--Ginko remembers those from Portland, right?

"Sans." There's no trace of laugh in his voice, incredibly; as a matter of fact, he's not even smiling. His eyes are lidded in that tired, jaded way Ginko's used to seeing, his tone flat.

"Question. Do you wear underpants?" He's starts to back away from Ginko, making very specific eye contact.

"I'm...!" The back of his legs collide with the bed and he goes down, his tone suddenly abrupt as he falls over backwards.

"Asking for Ginko!"

Oh goddammit apparently he's too late to stop THIS shit from happening. Ginko braces a knee on the bed next to Foster so he can keep grabbing for the radio.

"--No he isn't!"

Sans is lying on his bed waiting to go out patrolling again when he gets the message, just chilling. He blinks once, and then very slowly and lazily brings the radio to his mouth, resulting in a long delay. You hear the crackle of static far in advance of his actual words. He smirks ever so slightly.

"Nah," he says.

Sans will be able to hear Foster laughing--not the kind of jarring, callous laughter or mocking reflex he's usually prone to, but actual laughter.

"Oh, good!" he exclaims brightly, wiping spittle from his own chin as he angles himself to keep Ginko from grabbing the radio from him. As though that isn't ominous or absurd.

Okay so this is basically Ginko's personal hell. He makes another grab for the radio. "--Why is that good? Why do you even care! Sans, why would you tell him that?!"

"Uh," Sans drawls, intentionally long. "Why not?

"Because that isn't information that Foster of all people needs!"

Foster doesn't look especially offended. He just looks back at Ginko, sliding off the bed to land gracelessly on the floor--and out of Ginko's reach.

"What do you think I'm going to do with that information?" he asks, his tone candid.

Don't worry, Ginko. There's no trick to this question. He just wants to know!

"Uh. Okay. What's he gunna do with those hot deets?" Sans asks, his voice still a lazy drawl. "Use my lack of underpants to match my lack of penis and butt against me?"

"Don't put your human butt baggage on me, Ginko."

"I don't know what he's going to do, but I don't trust him. And I don't have any human butt baggage!"

He doesn't actually get off the bed, just tries to keep reaching for the radio from there.

Edited 2017-11-02 03:39 (UTC)

"You're the only one with human butt baggage." Foster is having a much easier time keeping the radio away from Ginko now. "And the only one with underwear."

He cradles the radio between his shoulder and ear, adding, "He wears briefs. Now it's even."

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TW: suggestive content coming (won't get nsfw, though, it's just for laffs)

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Here it is. The tag I warned you for.

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