WHO: Bastien (so far) + Various WHAT: Catch-all! A diplomacy mission, a Fitcherless card game, more TBD. WHEN: mumbles WHERE: Various NOTES: This might transform into an actual open post if I get my shit together fast enough.
Gela does not choke, delivering the silks to the de Maryacs. No ancient lineages are insulted. No valuable vases are knocked over. The Lady de Maryac seems particularly charmed by her curls and cheerful eyes, and when it comes time to hand over the elven artifact all of this is for, the Lord passes it into Gela's hands, rather than to the quiet partner who's been hanging around blandly in her shadow.
Once they're out of the house, Bastien sheds the blandness step by step like layers of clothing left behind on his way to swim in a river. The dull blankness in his eyes comes off first, then the stiff and proper posture, then the reserved absence of expression. By the time they reach the corner he's smiling, stuffing one hand into his pocket, and spinning on his heels to walk backwards so he can look at her.
"You were marvelous," he decides. "Nine out of ten."
Gela pauses, for a moment, to curtsey. One hand gathers her skirts and the other cradles the little, fine elven thing to her chest with care.
"Thank you!" She thinks that she's done well too. It's certainly nice to earn positive feedback after that weathering a rude questioning from that one jerk over the crystal (maybe you've heard of him); Gela is almost content to bask in the glow of Bastien's obvious approval. Almost. "What kept me from a perfect score?"
May as well take notes from the expert. She watched the way he donned that disguise, early, and remained mute in the background of her charm. It came across as stoic, quiet, believable. He's incredible at what he does. It's the way that Gela would like to be.
"My not wanting you to get too big of a head on your first outing," Bastien says. It's true. Maybe there are other, more difficult scenarios where he might have something to teach her, but for this? No notes. "You can get your big head after your tenth. That's the rule."
"After my tenth," she echoes, cheerful nonetheless, "I'll be sure to remember that."
And, continuing in that happy vein, she passes the little thing to him for his own perusal. It is very fine. Quite delicate. Gela has no idea what it is, but gathers it is worth all the fuss. "Pretty, isn't it."
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closed | gela
Gela does not choke, delivering the silks to the de Maryacs. No ancient lineages are insulted. No valuable vases are knocked over. The Lady de Maryac seems particularly charmed by her curls and cheerful eyes, and when it comes time to hand over the elven artifact all of this is for, the Lord passes it into Gela's hands, rather than to the quiet partner who's been hanging around blandly in her shadow.
Once they're out of the house, Bastien sheds the blandness step by step like layers of clothing left behind on his way to swim in a river. The dull blankness in his eyes comes off first, then the stiff and proper posture, then the reserved absence of expression. By the time they reach the corner he's smiling, stuffing one hand into his pocket, and spinning on his heels to walk backwards so he can look at her.
"You were marvelous," he decides. "Nine out of ten."
no subject
"Thank you!" She thinks that she's done well too. It's certainly nice to earn positive feedback after that weathering a rude questioning from that one jerk over the crystal (maybe you've heard of him); Gela is almost content to bask in the glow of Bastien's obvious approval. Almost. "What kept me from a perfect score?"
May as well take notes from the expert. She watched the way he donned that disguise, early, and remained mute in the background of her charm. It came across as stoic, quiet, believable. He's incredible at what he does. It's the way that Gela would like to be.
no subject
He holds his hand out, palm up.
"Can I see it?"
no subject
And, continuing in that happy vein, she passes the little thing to him for his own perusal. It is very fine. Quite delicate. Gela has no idea what it is, but gathers it is worth all the fuss. "Pretty, isn't it."