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by he smiles at them, and offers pleasant conversation, but rather than being his usually vibrant self he seems a bit withdrawn.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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Well, jeans kind of make me stick out around here, and I do that enough." After how many times he's been denied service around the city for being a rifter, he really doesn't want to draw more attention to himself. "But sometimes I wear them around the Gallows."

Cyril sombers up a bit at that. He really hates how much people judge others for things they can't help.

"Next time you do, if you catch me staring you'll know why."

Such is life for rifters. And elves. And Qunari. And dwarves. And mages. Basically anyone who isn't a mundane human. ...why does Thedas have to be so damn judgy?

"Noted. Let me know if my butt looks kinda shapely in it, or if it's my legs." He's got people to impress, and his ego can always use a boost. "Gotta know how to rock it, yeah?"

"You're asking me to compliment your body, Prompto? Are you prepared for that. I wouldn't want you to pass out as the blood rushes to your head to make your cheeks that find red color," Cyril replies, teasing very gently.

Oh look, he's blushing. Even though he's trying really hard not to. Damn involuntary physical reactions. "Only if it's worth complimenting. Just asking for your opinion. Really!"

Cyril openly looked Prompto over then. "Hm, trust me. You are absolutely worth complimenting."

Prompto dramatically waves his hand at him. "Oh, I bet you say that to all the boys," he teases with a laugh.

"Only the handsome ones." Though, let's be real, Cyril's definition of 'handsome' does include a lot.