"Lost everything in the fire," Bull says dejectedly, affecting noble misery. He touches his bare chest lightly, as if to thank his shirts for their year of service. It's a little hammy, but he has to be, to overcome the way every merchant in the city looks at him and reads thug. He's even adjusted his accent, very slightly; speaking properly it almost sounds like he's come up from Zakhara.
"Nothing but my eyepatch and my sleeping trousers. A man of my stature, it is not easy to find new clothes. At first I thought, tomorrow I will be the laughing stock of this city, when I have nothing to wear to my important meeting. But my best friend, of many years," a gesture to Astarion like it isn't obvious that's who he means, "Told me he knew a man who could help. A man of skill, and taste, with his finger on the pulse of fashion here in Baldur's Gate." He points down at Pennygood. "You."
He'd been concerned about Bull's acting ability, but— the man commits. Astarion stares at him with a mixture of surprise and delight, impossibly amused at witnessing him turn into some genteel victim of circumstance in front of his very eyes. Well done, Bull; they might actually be able to pull off this little heist after all.
"Yes," Astarion agrees. "I believe those were my exact words."
"Oh!" Pennygood says, his misgivings about Bull's appearance dissipating now that he's been so thoroughly complimented. "Well, you came to the right place, gentleman. The selection for someone of your size—er, that is, of your generous stature—will be smaller, but I do believe I have some items in the back for you to try on."
Astarion had expected as much. He can't even guarantee that they'll find something that matches, but it'll still be better than Bull showing up shirtless. He's not going to seduce Dufay for the information. ...Or, at least, they'll call that Plan B.
"I'm sure whatever you have will do splendidly," Astarion says with a mild smile, before Pennygood scurries away to find suitable clothing for Bull to try. Once he's out of earshot, Astarion gives Bull an appraising look, obviously pleased with his performance. "Well, I didn't know you were gifted in the theatre."
Bull snorts, tosses him a glance that is more fond than it should be. "Only 'cause you don't listen when I tell you crap," he points out, no heat, all bullshit. "I can dance okay, too, but somehow I don't think we're gonna need that."
Astarion rolls his eyes, because he totally listens. Just not when things are boring, or complex, or not about him.
"Let's call ballet Plan C," he says, gracefully not mentioning what Plan B is. He pictures Bull dancing on his tippy toes, horns getting caught in some fancy chandelier. It's a very amusing image, and he chuckles.
When Pennygood returns, it's with a few articles of clothing draped over his arm. Considering that he's a dwarf and these are made for a much taller person, they drag a little on the floor despite his best efforts. "I've procured a few of our finest items," he lies; he procured a few of their biggest items and prayed that they'd fit. "Shall I show you to a dressing room?" And then, only offering out of politeness, "—Uh, I can assist if you need help getting the attire over your horns..."
"I can manage," Bull says with a wave of his hand to try and cover the flat note in his voice.
He gathers up all the fabric and follows Pennygood to whatever curtained off area they have to change in. It's not spacious. Bull throws everything to hang over the top of the curtain rod and starts to undress. Not that he has much to take off.
The first outfit is the easiest to put on; the blue shirt has no sleeves, horizontal clasps all the way up the front that he just has to force closed over the expanse of his chest. Tries on a long plum coat along with it, and a tighter pair of pants - maybe a little too tight, he can't imagine living his life in these without tearing them. The colours and embroidered patterns don't match, but constructing a nice outfit isn't his job, he's just gotta show them what the clothes look like, so he comes out and spins for Pennygood and Astarion, feeling like a dick. The next set is equally mismatched but fits a little better, a longer shirt in red and gold.
The third outfit, though, that has a white shirt that goes over the head, and there's a clear, "Aw, crap," growled from behind the curtain as Bull tries to stretch the neckline to wiggle it over his left horn and just gets it stuck on there, stretched and uncomfortable. Qunari even have a saying about this, the equivalent of "getting caught with your pants down".
Astarion, waiting not-so-patiently against the wall, stops his restless (read: bored! Bull is taking so long in there) fidgeting only at the sound of 'aw, crap'. Pennygood hears it, too, and looks vaguely alarmed. "Sir, is everything all right in there?" he asks, obviously more concerned about the state of his product than whether Bull is okay.
"Nothing to worry about, I'm sure—" Astarion says, rudely peeking behind the curtain without even warning Bull or asking if he's decent. Look, Bull's clearly not shy; he walks around with his tits fully out. At the sight of him, shirt caught on those fearsome horns of his, Astarion barks a laugh.
"Gentlemen?" Pennygood asks, clearly growing more worried about his precious clothing. You break it with your giant horns, you buy it is not an official rule here, but he thinks surely it would hold up, right...? "Is there a problem?"
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"Nothing but my eyepatch and my sleeping trousers. A man of my stature, it is not easy to find new clothes. At first I thought, tomorrow I will be the laughing stock of this city, when I have nothing to wear to my important meeting. But my best friend, of many years," a gesture to Astarion like it isn't obvious that's who he means, "Told me he knew a man who could help. A man of skill, and taste, with his finger on the pulse of fashion here in Baldur's Gate." He points down at Pennygood. "You."
no subject
"Yes," Astarion agrees. "I believe those were my exact words."
"Oh!" Pennygood says, his misgivings about Bull's appearance dissipating now that he's been so thoroughly complimented. "Well, you came to the right place, gentleman. The selection for someone of your size—er, that is, of your generous stature—will be smaller, but I do believe I have some items in the back for you to try on."
Astarion had expected as much. He can't even guarantee that they'll find something that matches, but it'll still be better than Bull showing up shirtless. He's not going to seduce Dufay for the information. ...Or, at least, they'll call that Plan B.
"I'm sure whatever you have will do splendidly," Astarion says with a mild smile, before Pennygood scurries away to find suitable clothing for Bull to try. Once he's out of earshot, Astarion gives Bull an appraising look, obviously pleased with his performance. "Well, I didn't know you were gifted in the theatre."
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"Let's call ballet Plan C," he says, gracefully not mentioning what Plan B is. He pictures Bull dancing on his tippy toes, horns getting caught in some fancy chandelier. It's a very amusing image, and he chuckles.
When Pennygood returns, it's with a few articles of clothing draped over his arm. Considering that he's a dwarf and these are made for a much taller person, they drag a little on the floor despite his best efforts. "I've procured a few of our finest items," he lies; he procured a few of their biggest items and prayed that they'd fit. "Shall I show you to a dressing room?" And then, only offering out of politeness, "—Uh, I can assist if you need help getting the attire over your horns..."
no subject
He gathers up all the fabric and follows Pennygood to whatever curtained off area they have to change in. It's not spacious. Bull throws everything to hang over the top of the curtain rod and starts to undress. Not that he has much to take off.
The first outfit is the easiest to put on; the blue shirt has no sleeves, horizontal clasps all the way up the front that he just has to force closed over the expanse of his chest. Tries on a long plum coat along with it, and a tighter pair of pants - maybe a little too tight, he can't imagine living his life in these without tearing them. The colours and embroidered patterns don't match, but constructing a nice outfit isn't his job, he's just gotta show them what the clothes look like, so he comes out and spins for Pennygood and Astarion, feeling like a dick. The next set is equally mismatched but fits a little better, a longer shirt in red and gold.
The third outfit, though, that has a white shirt that goes over the head, and there's a clear, "Aw, crap," growled from behind the curtain as Bull tries to stretch the neckline to wiggle it over his left horn and just gets it stuck on there, stretched and uncomfortable. Qunari even have a saying about this, the equivalent of "getting caught with your pants down".
no subject
"Nothing to worry about, I'm sure—" Astarion says, rudely peeking behind the curtain without even warning Bull or asking if he's decent. Look, Bull's clearly not shy; he walks around with his tits fully out. At the sight of him, shirt caught on those fearsome horns of his, Astarion barks a laugh.
"Gentlemen?" Pennygood asks, clearly growing more worried about his precious clothing. You break it with your giant horns, you buy it is not an official rule here, but he thinks surely it would hold up, right...? "Is there a problem?"