[ There's a kindred spirit to be found in Byerly. Likewise, disinherited; likewise, of ill repute, though repute far worse than hers. Which really isn't fair. He's not done such wicked things, really; the problem really is that she's got that charming face, while his is lean and classically untrustworthy. Ah, well.
He sits down across from her, long legs crossed, head tilted rakishly, and commands her - ]
Pour me a glass, cuz.
[ And he presents that glass, mostly empty from his prior round. It's white wine lingering at the bottom of this cup, and she's pouring red - but it's swill regardless, so what does it matter? ]
no subject
He sits down across from her, long legs crossed, head tilted rakishly, and commands her - ]
Pour me a glass, cuz.
[ And he presents that glass, mostly empty from his prior round. It's white wine lingering at the bottom of this cup, and she's pouring red - but it's swill regardless, so what does it matter? ]