open | your baddest behavior

[cozen]

WHO: Alexandrie, Bastien, Byerly, and their captive audience
WHAT: Mandatory etiquette and dance lessons
WHEN: Justinian 15, 9:45
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: See the OOC post and IC announcement for more information! If you didn't sign up, you can still participate in Parts A and D, and just handwave the other two, without needing to sign up or get an assignment. If you want to do B and C, you can find your own dance partner/seating group OOC, or you can sign up now and we'll dole out new assignments if we get enough latecomers to do so. If you signed up and are missing from the lists when you shouldn't be, I'm sorry and please tell me!

disclaimer: event less fancy than pictured

Seating Assignments
— Table One: Gwenaëlle, Iorveth, Matthias, Athessa
— Table Two: Flint, Ilias, Darras, Med Seller, Yngvi
— Table Three: Julius, Thranduil, Anders, Brienne
— Table Four: Benedict, Colin, Valentine, Six, Derrica
— Table Five: Teren, Salvio, Bartimaeus, Osana
— Table Six: Freddie, Petrana, Kain, Merrill, Silver
— Table Seven: Yseult, Cosima, Steve, Inessa
— Table Eight: Sidony, Fifi, Nell, Fingon
— Table Nine: Thor, Nathaniel H., Solas, Skadi

Dance Partners
— Cosima & Nathaniel H.
— Athessa & Anders
— Teren & Flint
— Freddie & Bartimaeus
— Yseult & Darras
— Nell & Julius
— Merrill & Colin
— Skadi & Benedict
— Gwenaëlle & Solas
— Petrana & Salvio
— Osana & the Medicine Seller
— Sidony & Matthias
— Six & Thranduil
— Brienne & Valentine
— Fifi & Steve
— Thor & Fingon
— Ilias & Iorveth

Comments

[sarcophage]

"Not with me, no, but he is here." It's that simple. Not with me pries at his ribs, and he smiles through it. Of Ilias it's all he has to hold, so he declines to crush it—though that is a ferocious urge at times. "You'd have seen him. About my height, short dark hair, and a beard," which is new, which he likes very much, "very expressive eyebrows. An elegant way about him. Looks like he'd blush if he heard a naughty word."

Leander himself looks like he's waiting for Derrica to comment on something he's made; he keeps flicking sidelong glances at her as they walk.

[tender]

"He sounds handsome," is Derrica's verdict. She sways her weight in against Leander, expression bright. "Do you want me to teach you some of the naughty words I've learned for the next time you see him?"

There's something delicate here. Derrica can feel the cracks spidering out, the same as she had when they were in Dairsmuid. It's not surprising. She had never been uprooted and sent away, but she imagines it does some damage to be parted so thoroughly from the person you care for.

At least they're alive. Derrica takes a deep breath, nipping the curl of jealousy before it can bloom.

"I should have made more effort to dance with him," she continues, before he voice dips. "Are you happy to see him?"

[sarcophage]

Comments received, processed, and favourably assessed. He hadn't noticed the tension in his own posture until it slipped loose, and now he does, with secret gratitude—and hums a laugh, low in his throat, rich and genuine.

"I am." Though their situation is infinitely more complicated, it's an accurate summation—and anyway, she needn't know the details. "You must meet him, of course. I think you'll be fond of each other." Leaning in for a momentary murmur, "And don't you worry, he knows plenty of those words himself."

[tender]

The answering smile is watery, but genuine.

"I'd like to meet him," she answers, even if it feels a little like twisting a knife in her gut to contemplate the idea of it. She hates that sensation; this jealousy is an ugly, useless, twisting thing. She tells herself she's been given back a friend, someone she'd thought was dead and gone. It's been years of having given up on seeing any of them again, and now she's back to desperately hoping for miracle upon miracle?

Foolish. She'd taught herself to put all of this aside, but Leander's presence breathes life into so many things she's been ignoring.

"What's he like?"

A question that has less to do with Ilias, and more because she wants to hear Leander describe him, likes the way Leander's voice sounds when he's speaking about this particular topic.

[sarcophage]

It's something he can sense—the jealousy, or at least the ache. The longing in the way she leans against him. Is that for him? It mustn't be—but then, they haven't heard each other's voices in a long time.

It's a novelty, to be missed this way. Guilelessly. Without fear. An intoxicating thing to be wanted, in whatever way, even if the person she thinks she wants of him doesn't really exist. (Doesn't he, though?) It's something to cultivate.

So Leander replies, "He's beautiful," and for the moment turns his head to speak near Derrica's hairline. "You'll see." While they walk, close as a pair of sweethearts, he murmurs, "Never mind the workspace for now. We could... take some time, if you want. Just to be. Would you like that?"

clunkily slaps a bow on this and calls it wrapped

[tender]

The offer comes like an echo, bouncing back all the way to Dairsmuid. They are not the same people, but her answer resolves into certainty the same way it had then, before the world had split apart into blood and screams and burned down around them.

"Yes."

Her home is not in Leander. But he is a comfort, familiar and warm in this city. His arms fit around her the way she remembers, though what does she have to whisper to him? Not of Dionisia, not anymore.

Settling into his arms is like having pulled a piece of her from ashes. He is still good at holding her, and he kisses the way he used to. There is a comfort in how tangibly present he is. She'll have to thank him for that when she's acclimated to his existence, finding him alive when she'd long since given him up for dead along with everyone else. But that's something for later, set against all other possibilities that wait for the morning.