honey, don't feed it | closed

[aforethought]

WHO: Assorted + Various
WHAT: Catch em all
WHEN: Thedas April
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: HMU if you want one, etc.

Comments

[heirring]

She had spent the afternoon preparing for this. She'd created a list of questions over lunch, written on a piece of parchment now folded safely in her skirt's pocket. She'd done some last minute research between uselessly shuffling papers around for Salvio. She'd made a nuisance of herself down in the Inquisition's smithy for nearly a half mark, familiarizing herself with an assortment of hammers and levers and so on and begging to borrow an assortment of the smallest pieces.

What Wysteria had not been prepared for was for the person answering the door to be the vaguely familiar man from the Research office, the vicious edged of the sunburst brand painted across his forehead. The shock of it prompts her to swallow the cheery greeting that had been bubbling up onto her lips and for a moment, she pauses there awkwardly in the doorway of the neat little office and just-- fumbles around his introduction.

So in some way, the clock saves them both from prolonged mortification. Wysteria's eyes slide past Casimir to it. She promptly sharpens.

"Oh! Would you just look at it." This, bright and cheerful as she'd been intending for her intial Hello. There seems to be some restorative quality to it as well, for when she returns her attention to the man before her, the cloud of awkwardness has cleared from over her.

"I'd shake your hand, Mr Lyov, but I'm afraid I'm rather over burdened." She shifts the twin bundles under her arms - one wrapped in weathered, slightly greasy leather and the other a neat packet in a clean, pretty patterned handkerchief. "I'm Miss Poppell. Wysteria. Miss Poppell is fine. Or whatever you like is, I suppose."