faderift | (no subject)

WHO: Cyril and OPEN
WHAT: The first time that Cyril has opened his stall for a long time but he seems distracted rather than engaging others the way he usually does.
WHEN: A week or so after Sina's death
WHERE: The Gallows - Specifically Cyril's stall at the Gallows.
NOTES: This might eventually result in some discussions of grief and parental death. Close CR might get him to talk a bit about what happened in Pel's nightmare too so all of those warnings may apply.

It has been nearly a month since Cyril has been at his stall. First business with the Inquisition had pulled him away, then a shortage of supplies, then Sina's death and everything surrounding it. Finally, though, he has some wares out to be bought by any who are interested.

There are some basic traps, spring loaded traps, and then, as always, his puzzle boxes. The different items are organized carefully on the table and displayed for any who happen by. Usually, Cyril would be playing with one of the boxes to show how they work, or engaging with those who paused at the stall.

Now, though, he focuses on a sketch he's working on. When someone comes by he smiles at them, and offers pleasant conversation, but rather than being his usually vibrant self he seems a bit withdrawn. He sits by the stall and works on drawing the shape of a woman's face.

If anyone manages to catch what he's working on, they may notice that she resembles him. Or rather, that he resembles her. He had inherited most of his looks from her after all.

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"Oh well, you know. Got to do something useful around here, don't I?" He tipped his head up, before he nodded at the drawing. "You should get that framed. Put it in your beautiful room. So you have a good memory of her to hold onto."

"I'm not sure that I will," Cyril admitted after a moment. "I know it's probably unusual, but I was fine not remembering her. Knowing what she looks like... It's strange. I was drawing her mostly out of obligation, if I'm honest."

He considered the drawing for a moment. "I'd rather draw a picture of you..."

Adasse tipped his chin up at Cyril, his memory flashing to a picture that Sorrel had sketched of him, not too long ago. His lips curve at the edge.

"One condition. You do two drawings of me. One for yourself, and one to share."

"Can I make the one for me in a sexy pose?" Cyril asked, slipping into flirting very easily.

Now that pulls a laugh out of him. "If you must. Although I have to tell you, I've got nothing on pretty naked Orlesian men who make all those statues with the muscles and such." He kissed Cyril's hand gallantly, dark eyes flashing laughter.

Cyril chuckles softly. "Mm, sometimes I want something a bit closer to home than Orlesians though. And you're perfect."

"All right, where would you like me?" He stands, hooking his thumbs into his sash, dark eyes alight with mischief. "Lounging on the shore? Posing with sword and shield? Perhaps doing that half-naked statue thing where I've got an arrow stuck out of me?"

Cyril laughs at the idea. "Or we could go somewhere more private?" he suggests.

"Well I never say no to that -- but I want to make sure? Are you okay, or do you need to talk more about this?" He gives Cyril a level look. "I don't want you thinking you got to take me to bed for me to be your friend."

"I don't think that at all, dear one," Cyril said sincerely. "I think that I could use a distraction, and you are a good friend with or without coming to my bed."

"Good. I am glad to hear this." He kissed Cyril's hands again, "Then come on. Let's go and get yourself distracted."

Cyril chuckled softly. "Help me pack up first, will you? The anticipation will only make the act all the sweeter." He then turns to focus on getting his items secure so they can take them with them when they disappear somewhere more private.

"Oh the things you say." Adasse teased, as he stood up straight, looking around. "What am I grabbing here?"

"The puzzle boxes are the safest to move. If you see one you like, you can have it too," Cyril offers with a smile as he carefully packs up some of the more dangerous traps.

"Really? Excellent! Thanks, beautiful." He gave him a sunny grin, before he went to pocket the most difficult one, and then neatly began to pack the rest.

Once everything is put away they can head to Cyril's room in Sam and Kirk's place. "I'm not taking you from something am I? I didn't even ask..."

"Nah, I came to see you specifically." Adasse gave him a brilliant grin, before he shrugged and stood up straight, box carried in his arms. "So, off we go to distract you."

"Distractions are fun," Cyril agrees before they focus on getting back to the house. Adasse has been there before, of course, so it's a pretty easy trip. Once they're in the house, Cyril leads the way to his room so they can drop off his things.

"Did you want something to eat? I mean, other than me."

He laughs at the comment, before he thinks about it for a moment. "If you have bread and some spare jam, I wouldn't say no. Rather fond of jam sandwiches, I am."

"Lets see if we have any jam left," Cyril says, smiling. He leads the way to the kitchen and thankfully finds some jam and bread.

"I have to say, I'm not too surprised you like jam. You do seem the type to enjoy sweetness."

"I am a man who enjoys sweetness in all its forms." He beamed in turn, going to pull himself up on the table, letting his long legs dangle.

"I can see," Cyril replies as he starts to make the sandwiches. "You do have impeccable taste."

"Well naturally. Look in the mirror and you'll know that well enough." Adasse grinned easily at him, looking around the kitchen, "This is a real home, isn't it?"

"Yes. It belongs to Sam and Kirk. I just settled into their spare room."