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A Trifle Bazaar; Celebratory Reopening of the Grand Bazaar
Tweet Topic Started: Feb 12 2017, 02:26 AM (417 Views)
Ternunda Hunter Feb 20 2017, 12:02 AM Post #11
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Shadow Stalker


Watching the Red Dragon was… Very nearly intoxicating. Anyone who did not have the opportunity to watch would have been hearing about it later. And anyone who did watch found themselves with wide eyes, rigid bodies, and melted minds. What could one possibly think about over the smell and sight of fire itself twisting and turning in incredibly alluring and provocative ways? If she was trying to pull Vincent in even further, she succeeded. Still, he did a wonderful job acting as more of her side piece as he moved around her, eyes cool like the ocean just washing over her moving body.

He’d seen the moment of thought on her face and felt ridiculously satisfied with it. Even more so, he was glad her eyes never left his. Despite the opportunity to perform, she chose to keep her attention on him even when she could have garnered attention from a much larger audience. The fire lit up his face in low, glowing bursts as the flame of a candle would do when it was disturbed by wind or breath. Some would look at him and decide he looked like he might have been a madman as the flickering light made his face darken in a much more intimidating way; the intensity of his look, cool as it may have been, highlighted by the firm lines accented by shadows at his jaw and brow.

As she began her slow return to him, he waited patiently. He wasn’t sure if she wanted him to rush up to her, but if that was the case she’d get no such satisfaction as he held completely still with his hand outstretched for her to take. So, whether or not she took it when she was close enough, he would either lightly take her waist or her delicate digits. Had he not been horribly aware of how he might look to her, his face would have relaxed significantly as she started to speak… But, when she requested his name again and offered the more sharp explanation, his lips curled into a small amused smile, ”I’m sure, if anything, this has proven that I can, Lady Red Dragon. But, if you need more proof, I’m glad you will be joining me for wine… Please come with me.” He’d wink quickly at her as he started to guide her away from the dance floor before pausing once they were out of immediate danger - stomping feet, flailing arms, and the like - to continue briefly, not making the effort to look at her again, ”Ah, and my name is Vincent Okìa.” He was a little frustrated at her tone, though. It was understandable why she had little patience for games regarding anonymity, but she also didn't have a reason to be anonymous. It all changed when it was either work or for the sake of safety. Surely she'd executed some mission at one point in her life that required she maintain some identity that was not her own... Or, perhaps she didn't. He wasn't certain how long she'd actually been recognized as what she was and, subsequently, famous for it.

He nodded forward once as if to confirm his own identity before stepping again, guiding her as he would a lover to some destination he took no time to tell her about. She took the chances already. He assumed she would have no problem with one more. Besides, he decided he’d just surprise her with actually having told the truth about whisking her away to some balcony with the stars and the wine. So, if Saerelith followed Vincent, he’d lead her away from the busy Bazaar, passing drunken partiers, dancers (sort of), and those trying to bargain their way into the pockets of potential patrons with product or service. He made sure to keep them relatively close to those magitech heaters up until they weren’t even available anymore, eventually escorting her through one of his favorite restaurants and up to the ceiling. Alright, not a balcony, but it was close enough.

The roof was bordered with pretty, twisted metal railing and set with an iron chair and table set with a few different candles already lit and placed in the middle with wind coverings that had floral patterns cut out. Each corner of the rooftop seating area had a large pot of flowers but the area was really only large enough for that one table of four seats to be set. Stairs did lead up to the roof to a door that locked from the outside. There was already an array of wines waiting at the table next to a rose in a slender vase: a Moscato, Chardonnay, Merlot, and Cabernet Sauvignon. This wasn't some magic trick or some crazy plan that he'd set to take a woman up to his favorite spot before the night was up... No, Vincent planned for a night alone. Only did he realize while dancing that he might have the opportunity to share his night with someone beside himself and his thoughts.

Vincent would let her go once they got to the table and pull a seat out for her… but there were no nice heaters up there and he had no jacket, unfortunately. ”Let me know if you get cold. I can get a wrap for your shoulders.” If she took the seat he’d find his way over to his own and immediately reach for his favorite: the Moscato. It'd already been opened, obviously. The cork was pushed in but only for the sake of preserving the wine as much as possible, though anyone who enjoyed wine would not leave it like that for more than a day or two. So, he'd obviously been there recently... Or been drinking. Or was partaking in someone else's wine. Who could really tell? He'd be quick to pocket a small picture by the wines, making no mention of who or what it was. ”Hopefully your tongue is kind enough to enjoy one of these four,” he said, glancing up at her as he filled his own glass about half-way.


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Ariel Jun 9 2017, 06:50 PM Post #12
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The Red Dragon

Saerelith allowed him to touch her without the immediate painful consequence that usually greeted the grasp of a stranger; to say that the woman was prickly was not an understatement, but it was usually the kiss of fire rather than sharp spines that met unwanted hands. His name was Vincent Okia, and because she didn’t recognize it, she had to wonder about why he had been so reluctant to share. Was there a connotation she didn’t realize? Should she know him? If he were a criminal of some sort, surely he wouldn’t have been so foolish as to attract the attention of one of the Dragons. These thoughts consumed her while she followed his lead without protest, enabling her to sift through some of the information she had gleaned from his behavior uninterrupted.

This meant that while Vincent navigated through the bustling crowds that poured through the main thoroughfare, his partner was a silent traveling companion. It mattered little to the people they passed, for the beautiful couple drew stares regardless of intention; curiosity, awe, and jealousy inspired in equal measures. No doubt the gossip tabloids would have a thing or two to say the next morning about the appearance of a mysterious man on the arm of the Red Dragon, but Saer would have been lying to say she wouldn’t enjoy the spectacle. It was always amusing to see the peasants whipped into a frenzy over such insignificant details, like the intimate press of Vincent’s hand on her lower back or way she flashed him a knowing smile whenever their eyes met. No doubt Harlan would admonish her later if she indulged them further, and so the Red was a perfect example of a noble lady with her head held high and her shoulders back with that mask of mild intrigue settled onto her porcelain features until Vincent lead her through the restaurant.

When they had climbed the stairs to the roof and Saerelith had a chance to see the setting laid out before them, that image of perfection shattered into a look of mild alarm. Already prepared was an array of wines centered about a rose floral arrangement atop the solitary table, evidence that the suggestion of his had not been as spontaneous as she had thought. Such a thing might have thoroughly impressed anyone else, and there was a certain part of her that was quite enchanted by the romantic, candle-lit scene afforded to them by the empty rooftop. However, the woman’s instincts were rarely off their mark - though they were in this instant - and she felt hesitation born of self-preservation settle in her chest. What scheme was he playing at here? Caution couldn’t hurt.

There was a pause when he pulled the chair out for her before she took a seat, and the twist of skepticism hard to miss on her face as she crossed one leg over the other in ladylike fashion. His concern for her warmth was dismissed with the wave of one hand despite the thin material of her dress as she leaned back against her chair. “Such a practiced gentleman,” she mused when he took his own seat across from her at the table. “I imagine many women have fallen victim to your charms on this lonely balcony.” A rooftop was not quite the balcony he had promised, and so she did not miss the ample opportunity to tease him for it, though the stars did glimmer above in spectacular fashion from within the darkening blanket of the evening sky.

It didn’t occur to her that he might have been up here on his own, though she was aware that the wine cork came free far too easily for an unopened bottle. The sleight of hand he displayed almost escaped her notice, distracted as she was by the glass he poured. She couldn’t identify what he had grabbed beyond that it was small and flat; a piece of paper perhaps? Curiosity urged her to question him confrontationally, but she held onto a sense of decorum, not entirely convinced yet of his potential ulterior motives.

“Sweet wines are not among my favorites,” she admitted after a moment of deliberation, selecting instead one of the darker reds. By its label, a merlot from one of the city’s local vintners and bottled during an excellent harvest year which suited her sensibilities just fine. Following his lead, she popped free the cork and poured herself a splash of wine before lifting the glass to her lips to inhale deeply of the grape’s heady scent. A pleased sort of hum escaped her to recognize the vintage as a personal favorite; either Vincent’s choice had been lucky or he had better taste than she gave him credit for.

“Tell me something, Vincent Okia.” Saerelith asked once she had filled her own glass with the dark liquid. “What brings a man like yourself to this quiet little part of Valencia?” There was nothing quiet about this side of town during the week-long festival, and the playful note in her voice was a disguise for her uncertainty. “Surely it wasn't only the prospect of dancing with me.”
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Ternunda Hunter Jun 10 2017, 12:25 AM Post #13
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Shadow Stalker


The air was cool. Crisp. It filled Vincent’s lungs more unpleasantly than anything. It felt like his lungs were burning… But, the feeling was almost comforting. It reminded him of his training. Hundreds of nights half naked in harsh winters, snowflakes kissing his exposed flesh that felt more like stabs rather than welcoming lips. How was he to know what a kiss felt like at that age, anyway? But, seeing such a beauty just in front of him did fill his chest with a warmth he supposed he hadn’t felt for awhile. Days and weeks of him wading through people, wandering through locations and people of interest with nothing but the color grey; appropriate as a description of his attitude. But this dragoness added a dash of Red that was wonderfully, yet almost painfully unexpected. So, that picture he stuffed away took residence by his chest as he studied Saer’s changing expression… Noticing a note worth worrying about: Alarm and skepticism.

Did that mean he was blowing it? He could almost be certain. But, even if it meant he’d never see her again, he’d make it a point to have a good night. A charming smile broke out on his face at her tease, and a knowing nod followed. ”What can I say.. I might have played my choice of words up a little. Though, I think this rooftop does serve well enough for its purpose.” He paused for a moment as if to think of what sort of retort she might throw his way, quickly adding, ”Peace, relaxation, and... Solace.” His smile faded a little and even the corners of his eyes pulled down as a dark haze took his eyes before he returned to his fruity, flowery glass of wine. A sip pulled his attitude back into the positive, though. Brief as it was, anyone watching him would have noticed.

His deep blues drifted over the offered assortment of wine and he took pleasure in knowing she found one that was, indeed, suitable. So, he enjoyed the silence a little longer, aware that it would soon end. But, he could not let himself admit that it was nice to have someone sitting up there with him, rather than just him sitting in his usual quiet with no one but those below to keep him company. And, of course, the silence was interrupted before the thought was allowed to linger in his mind much longer. His eyes moved up to watch her lips as she spoke, appreciating the feminine curve of her cupid's bow and how plump her lower was. And hearing her speak his name was uncomfortably satisfying. So, he sat up and cleared his mind a little, resting his forearm on the table with the stem of his glass hanging below, ”Mmm. Just that. It’s quiet… Usually. Though, I only visit this rooftop when I am in this part of town.”

Slowly but surely, Vincent was starting to think the rooftop was a terrible idea.

Part of his response was absolutely a lie. He visited the rooftop quite often… And it wasn’t just because it was quiet. The place tugged at his heart every time he saw it. Every time he sat in the very chair he was placed in that night.. Every time he sipped from that identical year and label of wine. But, painful as the tugs were sometimes, he enjoyed them. Perhaps a bit of a masochist in that regard. But, thankfully, he was quiet enough in life that no one knew of his plight through the years, recent or long ago. So, he drifted through time because it was much more easy than the alternative. And, of course, he was concerned about that look that touched her face. The rooftop was set and she must have been suspicious of it. But, the question was would she act on those suspicions?”I hadn’t the faintest idea that you would be attending the festival. If I’m honest, I don’t often look for you, my lady. Have my eyes set on your radiant features before? Absolutely. But, I’m afraid it has always been in the middle of something.” He smiled a little, lounging back in his chair as he tried to settle, relax… Shake the thoughts from before. They were almost never constructive. ”I’m lucky we found each other tonight. My toes are especially thankful.” Vincent winked, eyes trained on her face as he hid his eagerness to see her smile.
Edited by Ternunda Hunter, Jun 10 2017, 12:35 AM.
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Ariel Jun 10 2017, 11:00 PM Post #14
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The Red Dragon

Allowing him to explain without interruption, Saerelith swirled the wine around in her glass with a gentle rocking of her wrist and regarded him with the steady gaze of a hawk over the brim. She didn’t seem bothered by the cold in her sleeveless dress, no complaint uttered, rosy though her cheeks and nose had slowly become as if evidence she was more human that she tried to let on. It might come across as the play in a dominance game to an observer, a refusal to acknowledge the discomfort in the face of a rival or just plain self unawareness. In truth, though, it was simply a weakness she felt herself above. Perhaps she had become too dependent on the fire she was capable of producing, took it for granted, or maybe she had simply never experienced real suffering at nature’s hand.

“Solace?”
The Red seemed perplexed by this concept, mouthing the word a second time soundlessly before she sipped at the melot. Elements of cherry and plum had always been able to earn her favor, a fruity aroma pleasant contrast with the smokey bouquet on her tongue. A lazy smile curled the edges of her mouth at the taste, but it never touched her bright eyes that watched his distant expression darken briefly. It was so slight that had she not been paying close attention, she might have missed it, but there was no escaping her intrigue now. Something haunted the rogue. He continued on as if that melancholy had never been, but curiosity in Saer was a hound with the scent of blood.

“I consider myself lucky, too,”
she said in amiable reply absent any hint that she had caught hint of his veiled sorrow. His wink inspired the amused twitch of her lips, but at that moment a full smile never formed. After another considering sip of wine from her glass, she finally let her eyes lift from him to wander aimlessly in the cloudless sky. “I don’t much like to be alone.” There was something about her voice that made her statement seem confessional, private. “I can be dancing in the middle of a crowd and still be alone. They don’t see me, they see a title and a pretty face. They see opportunity. No one cares what happens behind the curtains.” Saer blinked and stopped abruptly, a perplexed frown taking residence on her features only fleetingly. She wasn’t quite sure why she was telling him this, but something about him made her struggle to repress the urge to say more.

Smothering her own bitterness, she fixed her attention on the burgundy liquid in her glass. “This is.. nice,” she gestured with a free hand toward the empty rooftop they shared. “Something charming about it. The candles are a nice touch.” Coquettish was the smirk that danced on painted lips when she glanced his way again, confidence a mask she wore well to keep the conversation moving. “You will have to tell me where your taste for wines come from, you’ve an excellent eye for quality.”
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Ternunda Hunter Jun 11 2017, 12:51 PM Post #15
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Vincent’s shoulders did relax a little as she agreed. Luck was a lovely lady that night.. And he was looking at her. He leaned forward a little on that arm positioned at the table, but what followed her response was something he’d not expected to see on the Red Dragon’s face nor hear in her voice. His eyes softened as he listened to her, nodding in agreement as she continued. Vincent looked down a little as she stopped… but he started, ”And those people are beggars for attention and status, my Lady. Insecure with the current positioning of their life that they would look through a woman, gorgeous and high as she may be, ignoring her need for real conversation and companionship.” He paused and gave her a knowing smile before leaning back in his chair. Perhaps his situation was not similar, but he knew what it was like to be missing or forgotten. Though, it was typically of his own doing that he was left unseen even in a room too full of people.

He brought his fruity booze to his lips before accepting those flavors in his mouth. It wasn’t often the Shadowmancer let himself drink a full glass of wine, but he was about to finish his first and pour another. Though, in the cold that night he was grateful of the warmth alcohol brought into his veins. He looked back up at her as she broke the silence, though it was obvious she needed to change the route of conversation. Welcomed enough, he was glad to let it drop and continue forward rather than stalling in the middle of the lane in a place neither of them, obviously, had any business being. Exploring feelings, especially with someone one barely knew, was terrifying.

A soft ‘Tss’ escaped the Rogue as she spoke. Amusement abound at her comment on the candles. Simple little things.. Two pale sticks of scentless wax dripping on the linen cloth that covered up the fact the table was just a few vegetable crates from the restaurant below. Vincent spent enough on his wine, too much to splurge on a table that was unnecessary, especially for a place he wished he’d stop going to all together. Even the chairs they sat on were far from nice, but they served their purpose efficiently rather than with elegance. In truth, Vincent had slowly been making the scene they were settled in less and less romantic with time. One piece of furniture here, one there, one change that took away from the feel of the place rather than added to it. He’d never be able to get rid of the scent of pasta, marinara, basil, and fresh bread from below.. But, he hoped by the time that was all he had to change he would have found a new place of intrigue, somewhere else to set his attention to. Perhaps Saerelith would be that new element in his life, but it was a thought he’d not yet had nor would he for a least a handful more meetings.

”Mmm, my taste is learned from others throughout the years, I suppose. Certainly less impressive that I did not come to my senses on my own, but I’m not afraid to admit I must learn -- sometimes the hard way.” Of course, his taste did come predominantly from one figure more than the others. And, in truth, the table was set for their pallet rather than his, save the Moscato. Until that question, he’d not yet come to the realization that Saerelith’s was almost identical. ”I suppose the winery just outside Valencia does a fine enough job… But, I can not buy Moscato from her. She’s only toying with white wine currently.. And it’s terrible.”

He pulled the cork off the bottle of white before pouring himself another helping that, in the size of those glasses, was probably meant for two or three. However, before he even took a sip of it, he stood, pulled off his jacket, and draped it around the Red Dragon’s bare shoulders. As adorable as it was watching her ignore it like the cold was a thing she never had to struggle with, he wouldn’t allow it. Though, watching her little nose brighten was disgustingly sweet, almost as much as his Moscato. ”I will be right back,” was all he offered to the woman before he disappeared through the door and down the stairs leading to the restaurant.

Vincent tried to eat when he was hungry, glad he didn’t have to wait until he was allowed to do so. If he had any choice in the matter, he’d always have control over his habits and his needs. Training made him weary of foregoing control to anyone. So, he intended to answer his stomach’s call; low rumbles and quiet complaints. Lucky for him and Saerelith, this restaurant had wonderful pasta and always put enough garlic in their sauce. He ordered two plates with a salad and a half loaf of bread. Plenty for a table of four, let alone two.

Balancing the plates on one arm while the bowl of salad and plate of bread settled between his side and left elbow, he climbed the steps back up and carefully pushed the access door to the roof open with his hip. The plates clinked quietly while he set the table, his white dress shirt, that was perhaps a smidge too tight around muscled arms and chest, practically glowed in the moonlight. He flashed a smile down at her under those bushy brown curls, his face half-covered in a shadow with his back facing the moon, ”Dinner is served. It’d be a shame if you hate pasta. But, I did bring salad.” So long as she didn’t protest, he’d sit, pull out his cloth napkin, and break off bread for the two of them.
Edited by Ternunda Hunter, Jun 11 2017, 12:55 PM.
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Ariel Jun 16 2017, 01:25 AM Post #16
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The Red Dragon

Grateful for his willingness to acquiesce to a less threatening topic of conversation, Saerelith chuckled politely at his flattering compliments. He was not the first to say such things, but whether he would be able to live up to the implied suggestion was something only time would tell. “With a silver tongue like that, I'm not likely to be left wanting by you, am I?” The question was not entirely rhetorical, of course, given the flirty nature of its delivery accompanied with a sly little smile. She emptied her own glass of deep red wine, savoring the taste like it was a rare delicacy she didn't often have time to experience.

Despite the meager surroundings assembled on the rooftop, Saer didn't feel as if it were particularly lacking. She had grown up in lavish accommodations and still had access to more wealth than she rightly knew what to do with, but it didn't mean she had no appreciation for the small things. It was a private setting, quaint and humble with its wooden crates and rickety chairs. The appetizing smells that rose from the restaurant below were a pleasant aroma she certainly didn’t mind. She hadn't been lying when she said it was nice, for there was something to be said for simplicity. Her life was full of complex issues of one kind or another; sharing the space with Vincent felt comfortable, even if she didn't really know the man.

By standing abruptly and beginning to remove his coat without warning, the strikingly handsome man was cause for a curious and confused wrinkling of the Red’s tapered brows. It was only once he strode to her side and draped the warmth about her shoulders did she realize what he was up to. Saer paused for half a beat as if deciding what to do. He'd realized the chill was getting to her without a word of complaint, this made him surprisingly observant. She looked at him as if with new eyes, pulling together the split front of his jacket so that it more thoroughly wrapped around her. Before she could offer a word of thanks, Vincent excused himself and left her alone on with her thoughts on the roof. What a strange man; Saer stared consideringly at the doorway he had disappeared through.

When he returned bearing two armloads of food, she couldn't help but gape. That was definitely not what she had expected, but as he delivered the feast to the crate-table before her, Saer’s stomach rumbled with a hunger she hadn't even realized was there. “This is-- wow,” she struggled for the right words, but by the broad, genuine smile that brightened her face, it wasn't for negative reasons. “It looks so good… I can't remember the last time I had pasta. I could request it, of course, but the kitchens usually handle the meal planning. Easier to let them handle it than fight with the head chef, believe me.”

Her eyes lingered on him a little longer than would have been appropriate for a simple glance, traced the outline of his features in the shade of the moon and roamed over the muscular silhouette made luminous in the ethereal light. She wondered what work he did that would maintain such a cut figure, deciding then to work the question into later conversation. “I should thank you,” Saerelith told him, readjusting her seat to scoot it closer to his as he split the bread into sections for each of them. “When you said drinks beneath the stars, I thought you were full of hot air. But I'm impressed, you came through after all and with dinner as an added bonus.”

She lifted a fork from the table and plunged it into one of the pasta dishes, spinning it until it had gathered a spool of saucy noodles. “I think I might be a little bit in your debt for a lovely evening, Master Okia.”
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Ternunda Hunter Jun 16 2017, 03:01 AM Post #17
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Vincent was nothing short of ecstatic at the sight of her full smile. An expression he’d been hunting for the entirety of the night, ever since their dance at least. Grabbing for it with sly lines and smooth winks. Funny that all it took was some decent food. As he set the table he responded to her, ”Mmm. I’m not picky, but I don’t think I’d be happy to let someone choose my meal for me. I suppose I’m stubborn.” He winked as he looked up at her before finishing the table, bread, and taking his seat. Of course he noticed her eyes roaming his torso. Though, there wasn’t a moment he didn’t enjoy it, either. He loved to feel those fiery eyes, but he knew it would only be fleeting. As he sat, he looked up at her, smiling on his own at her proximity.


Perhaps the night wasn’t intended to be her’s but she stole it from him like the most greedy dragon. In that night, she could have every one of the stars; pluck those sterling orbs right out of the sky if she wanted to. And if she asked him to do it he would reign them in with a net without hesitation. Though, he’d never been so glad to have something taken. Never had Vincent been so willing to relinquish his plans and change them to include something or someone else.

He used his bread in his left and spun the pasta against it in his right before taking a bite. He took that opportunity to consider her words. An amused huff of air pushed out of his nose before he washed the pasta down with a sip of Moscato. The sauce was fantastic. Meaty. Loaded with garlic, salt, and plenty of basil. The pasta was freshly made -- none of those dried strands meant to last years. And the bread. For the love of the Last God, that bread was incredible. Soft, warm, toasted, and packed full of flavor. He offered her a little nod before taking another sip of wine to finish, ”I’m afraid I’d be terribly disappointed in myself if I didn’t deliver.” He almost continued, “If I’m anything, I’m honest.” But that would have been a lie and he was certain she’d be able to see through it, even as good an actor as he was.

But did she owe him? Hmm. Vincent sighed a little and leaned back in his chair, giving her a considering look as he held the glass of wine close to his face. ”Do you really think you owe me? I don’t think I’ll accept anything other than another night in your company, if that seems fair enough to you.” Another sip down, his eyes connected with her’s as he watched the Red Dragon eat. ”Still, I chose to spend the night with you because I wanted to. Not intending to win anything other than your presence in mine. Drinking my wine. Wearing my jacket.”

To be fair, the man didn’t drink as much as he was very often. He was already starting to feel a rush head straight for the crown of his head, a little worried it was beginning to loosen his lips. He must have already had at least three glasses of wine.. Working on his next three. The bottle was finished, standing tall with the cork discarded somewhere on the floor, and he was very nearly regretting it. But the warm, tingly buzz was only making him more warm absent his jacket… And it only made Saerileth glow even brighter before him. Even in his mild intoxication there was no question that he meant everything in he said. In fact, his face was as straight as it was when they were dancing to that song.. And his eyes were still set on her own, soaking in the light they produced like a shadow that wanted nothing more than to consume it all.
Edited by Ternunda Hunter, Jun 16 2017, 03:01 AM.
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Ariel Jun 16 2017, 03:47 AM Post #18
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The Red Dragon

“Stubborn? You?” She sounded astonished, but it carried a little too much tonal lilt to be anything other than playful banter. “My word, I would never have guessed just what makes you dig your heels in. You might reconsider your aversion to pre-selected meals if you dine in the Keep. Though there isn't much pasta very often, the chef makes a spiced wine in-house which you absolutely can't afford to miss.”

As Vincent spoke of what payment he would accept in lieu of her debt, she couldn't resist another flash of a smile as his reward, brief and more controlled though it was. It was gratifying to know he enjoyed her company and wanted more of it, something she was beginning to realize was a mutual feeling between them. He wasn't a bore like the sycophants she was accustomed to dealing with, and his confidence around her did not go without notice. Where so many were like pups licking at her boots for attention, he was a cool glass of individuality by comparison. It didn't hurt that the man was painfully attractive, but she did her best to avoid being entirely too forward with her stares, watching him whenever she thought he might not notice. As it turned out, that wasn't often as frequently when she cast her amber eyes his way, the ocean of his gaze was there to meet her fire.

“It is safe to say you succeeded in that mission,” Saer laughed quietly as she talked, the peachy color on her cheeks returning despite the warmth of his jacket around her shoulders. There was something about the way he looked at her, predatory but free of malice, intense without scrutiny. Something dark she couldn't identify, and she was inwardly surprised by the thrill she felt under his eyes. She enjoyed the way he watched her, enjoyed the unfamiliar security of wearing his clothes and the pleasantly musky scent it carried that could only have been his.

“If you will accept my company as payment, then consider it settled. I must confess, I didn't go in search of you. I wasn't looking for anyone earlier this evening; there is something... freeing about being in lost in a crowd, one among many.” As if realizing the elaborate dress she wore was contradictory to her explanation, she continued hastily. “But it's hard to do that when you're me. So,” Saer drew aside his jacket to gesture toward the flame-colored gown that accentuated the appealing slopes of feminine curves with its detailed beadwork. She wanted him to see. “I make the most of it.”

Belatedly, she glanced to the hand that had been spinning a fork full of pasta this entire time and blinked as though only now realizing she hadn't taken a bite. A half-laugh escaped her lips before she popped the morsel into her mouth, and the subtle moan that followed seemed entirely involuntary with her lidded expression. “I'm going to recommend the head of staff outsource to the chef downstairs. Last God, that's incredible!” There it was again, that infectious grin which never seemed to last long enough as she went for another bite. “I can't believe I've never visited this place before. Pour me another of that merlot, would you?" She gestured with a nod to her empty glass.
Edited by Ariel, Jun 16 2017, 02:16 PM.
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Ternunda Hunter Jun 16 2017, 02:47 PM Post #19
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Finally, a bite of his lower lip. Vincent leaned forward a little at her first remark, resting both elbows on his knees as he closed the gap between them effortlessly. His deep blues narrowed at her as if he was trying to determine if she was teasing, though her tone only did prove it. ”Never would have guessed? So, have you guessed already, Red Dragon? I’m curious what you’ve concluded.” He ignored what seemed like an invitation to the Keep. A place he wouldn’t go lest he was ordered for work. It was always too full.. Too busy.. Too uptight, though he hated to admit he would have to be there the next day. He detested the types of conversation that floated overhead in the high ceilings. Sly games lead by nobility in effort to only see themselves higher rather than genuine. Though, who was he to completely denounce nobility? He knew where he came from, even if he could hardly remember whom anymore.

Still, in being so close to her, he did get to witness her cheeks stain red.. And it only fueled the man’s confidence. It didn’t go unnoticed that, despite having readily plunged her fork into that mound of pasta, she’d yet to actually take a bite. He smiled as she accepted his request, and allowed his eyes to follow her motioning hands, drinking in the sight of such an exotic creature. Every curve… Every way that delicate fabric draped across her body. Though, in that moment he certainly wished he held out on the jacket so he could appreciate her freely. But, Vincent had to practice discipline and pull away from her after that, returning to his pasta and salad. Tearing his eyes away from her was like ripping of a bandage where the skin had grown with it attached rather than on its own. Pulling the wound open again only to have to let it heal back over. He knew, though, that the ache would be soothed again, soon. He’d get an opportunity to see her, even after the night was over. So bolstering his attitude, as loose as it had become with booze, was that much more easy.

What he could only assume were nerves spurring her little laugh made him smile again before he took another bite, freeing her from his eyes at long last for what he expected would be many minutes. Despite having nearly finished a whole bottle of wine on his own, he was suddenly realizing how hungry he was. But, at her request her offered a soft, ”Mmm,” before pulling on the bottle of burgundy and pouring her another healthy glass. Resuming his attack on the plate before him he would gladly settle in silence for a few minutes, if she allowed, before considering, washing down the pasta with a sip of his wine, and glancing over at her as he wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin. ”Have you had many partners?” He paused as if much more slowly than he normally would have, he came to realize what his question, lacking supplement, seemed to mean. Quickly, he added, ”For dancing. Have you had many partners to dance with you didn’t feel hindered by?” He remembered, for a moment, how it felt to have her in his arms, gliding around the less capable couples as the music continued to charge them forward. Every crest of the song seemed much more dramatic as he reflected on them. Much more impactful… Or were those true? He hoped it was… Because those memories were incredible, sans the fuzz in his head making it harder to multitask.
Edited by Ternunda Hunter, Jun 16 2017, 02:49 PM.
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Ariel Jun 16 2017, 04:13 PM Post #20
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Saerelith’s breath caught in her chest to see his teeth grace his lower lip, taken aback momentarily by the effect such a simple expression had. It softened the chiseled lines of his face much like his winning smile, but there was something new in that dark, piercing gaze when he leaned forward to address her with a question that made the proverbially dormant butterflies in her stomach flutter. She felt pinned to her seat by his stare while it remained on her, and the gentle furrowing of her brow was evidence of the confusion his query had drawn out. “About you, I imagine you mean? Have I worked out your mystery?” And it was a mystery, the odd combination of his skill sets and attributes. His attention for detail was of significant interest, and despite amicable behavior, there were a handful of suspicious elements she had already begun piecing together. He was a jigsaw puzzle without the added benefit of knowing what portrait you were compiling beforehand. “You do pose quite the dilemma for me, Vincent.”

She hadn’t yet answered his question, and the choice was purposeful. Radiant eyes remained fixed upon him even when he turned back to his meal. Odd indeed was the empty, bereft sensation that followed the absence of his bottomless gaze, as though the fire he stirred within her sputtered without oxygen when he looked away. Why did she suddenly long for his attention when deprived of it? “There doesn’t seem to be much that gets past you, and that can’t be said for everyone. You remind me of someone I work with in that regard, always focused on the task at hand. Even if that task is seeing to my needs.” Soft was the smirk that played upon her painted lips, his reward for the wine that he filled her glass with and the jacket he had loaned her. She would be reluctant to give it back at the end of the night, no doubt.

Stalling rather obviously for time to think, she collected the wineglass and brought it to her lips for a long draw. Just who was he? She wasn’t yet sure, but she no longer wondered whether he was a threat to her. In fact, the more tidbits the gleaned from their conversation, the more about him she wanted to know. A merchant, perhaps? It would have explained his tongue for good wines and his knack for witty conversation, but not the muscles which stretched the fabric he wore a tad too much to be subtle. A soldier, perhaps? She rubbed her thumb against the cool surface of her cup, resisting the urge to touch him as it flitted through her mind. “I like your company, I think. But as to your profession, I’m afraid you have me at a loss. You should be proud of yourself, not many can leave me curious.”

His next question made the drink seize in her throat with a sputtering cough, bright eyes wide with the implication his words carried, intentional or not, until he quickly elaborated on what he actually meant. “Excuse me?” Without the benefit of context, the impropriety had flushed her high cheekbones with rosy color and had he not continued, the warning tone of her voice was enough to convey outrage was ready right behind the corner. As it was, she felt mildly embarrassed by the assumption when he had finished the sentence, her gaze darting away from him for the first time in a few minutes. “Oh.”

It took another few seconds before she had composed herself, slugging down the last of that glass’s contents before reaching to pour herself another. “No,” Saerelith said finally. “Not many. There are quite a few skilled dancers in the city, but it’s rare the man that can keep up with me. I’ve spent my life practicing and performing before I became what I am, I’ve always loved to dance.” She smiled in spite of herself at a fond memory from her childhood, of the theater she adored which had long since been demolished to make way for other establishments in the decades that followed. It made her feel ancient to think about, though one-hundred-and-four wasn’t a terribly old age by Ascendant standards. “You were a treat tonight, you moved with me rather than in opposition. You took the lead. It’s not common that I have the pleasure of following in the footsteps of a competent partner - and don't have to ice my feet afterward. I appreciate that.”
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