► Prelude, Part II: “Prospect”
“Where words leave off, music begins.”
― Heinrich Heine
"By the Star, what du yu mean?" the Viera asked, swiveling on her heel as she turned from the open window and the admiration of busy Thavnarian streets below.
The breeze rolled in, bringing with it the exotic spices of the freshly baked goods from stall a mere jaunt from the from door of the apartment; forcing one's mouth to water at the promise of localized delicacies. Fejn licked her lips absently, arms folding over the growl of her stomach; loud enough to be audible.
"Not that I don't think yu would be lucky tu have me accompany yu, but tu Eorzea....? Yu swore you’d not return. Why the sudden change of heart?"
"You can't deny the idea its charms.” Dariustel replied, assertive, from the far side of the room, drawing himself upward from tattered pillows once pristine. “Eorzea is the home of adventure and I know it calls to your adventurous heart. I'm certain of it.” He continued. “There is history and beauty and people unlike any you've ever seen just about every corner. Eorzea is your muse, the land of enchantment, and I am certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that it will take you and it will not let go. As it has enchanted the heart of every bard and traveler to have touched its fertile soils."
A brief silence of several beats followed as the elezen rose single digit with sheepish proclamation. "Also... I already sold the apartment," he gulped, long fingers flicking outward in gesture of room. "And I'm not going to be able to take that back."
Quietly, the woman clucked a tsk’d note responsive to the Wildwood’s incorrigible nature; briskly drowned out by the sound of helpless laughter and the slow shake of her head. The amused gesture causing the tumble of peach-glamored locks to tumble over her shoulder and gently kiss upon the curve of rounded rear; the shapely curve of her rump thusly coming to rest against the window sill and offer flash of cheeks exposed by bodysuit to the streets below.
"It is true," she acknowledged, clicking the tip of her tongue against the back of ivory teeth. A long, claw-like nail scraped along plump lower lip in downward trajectory of idle chin scratch.
"Long I have wished tu see these lands for myself...." The Viera's head swiveled, turning to glance over slender shoulder to absently observe the street below anew; a small smile painted delicately upon sultry lips.
"I question, though, just how the man intends tu pay for such a voyage... though perhaps less of a mystery now. You've sold? My, my."
Dariustel approaches confidently, embraces her with one arm and guides her vision with the other in sweeping gesture, meaning for her to see past the drab walls of the cramped space he'd called his home. With it, the Viera’s attention is drawn from the streets - away from the bustling bodies below, the exotic food and new found smells, unto the promises offered by the elezen's emerald eyes.
"We play well together.” He stated, looking over her leporine countenance with smile. “We didn't get this one, but we can get others. Eorzea is bustling with venues now. They've an adventurer's guild you see, where any yahoo can earn a bit of coin and start a business of their own. They're everywhere. Rules are more lax. It's not like here. We won't want for coin, but more importantly, we won't want for adventure. For the fire that makes life worth living," he made a fist with his left as he spoke, gesturing passionately for the idea.
"For a thousand-years, the men and women of Ishgard fought an unwinnable war. Not for coin or glory but honor. Honor and piety they held above all other virtues."
Dariustel could see them on the drab wall like moving paintings, a legion of dragoons, spears aimed high as a fire-belching dragon dives through the air. His sweeping gesture widens her gaze to possibility, to adventure and exploration; to sights unseen and unheard save the stories told of the land beyond.
"Or the nation that helped them overcome this unwinnable, thousand-year war that values nothing but, coin and glory. A jewel in the desert like your very own Desert Sapphire. Gleaming domes shining in the harsh Thanalan sun," his imagination saw the city of Ul'dah rise and overshadow the fighting dragoons; directing her minds eye through their imaginary frolick. Wistfully, the Dalmascan found herself caught up in the romanticized notion of adventurous lifestyle, despite the feat being a relatively easy one. "The songs write themselves. Adventure beckons!”
Dariustel smiled wide. “Or what of Lominsa, Limsa Lominsa, a city-state led by perhaps the greatest explorer of our times, the inmitable Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn - famed discoverer of the Old World. That's where popotos are from," he moans and shakes his head at the imagined taste, appealing now so unfairly to her empty stomach.
"As far as paying," he shrugged languidly. "This place wasn't worth much but its enough to get us on a boat, and some lodging once we're there. At least for some time until we've established ourselves. You need only say yes."
The woman’s heart skipped a beat for the scenes played out in the depths of imagination, of the tales that would come to pass as effortlessly as it might be to utter a simple, three-lettered word that could make it all possible. Slender fingers reached briefly for the vision of mind's eye; curling only into nothingness as the manifested dream vanished before her eyes; pink quartz that sparkled with the desires of a wanderlusting heart.
Slowly, her gaze drifted from the path laid out before her and onto the minstrel anew; one long leg lifting from it's position on the floor with enough flexibility to place her strangely arched foot upon his stomach. It was bare, contrasting to the other that somehow remained heeled in placement on worn rug beneath. Gently, and in a manner most teasing, she slowly pushed him back upon his heel; wriggling clawed toes playfully.
"You'll have tu find my other heel first," the Viera smirked, increasing the distance between them as her foot crawled upward to exposed chest; allowing almond-shaped eyes to travel down leg’s length in pair of sultry smile offered unto he.
"Then, we make ready tu leave."
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