#milafaithful

[ninisdance]

@milafaithful sent: [ sequester ] "I've thought about growing my hair out," silque muses, adjusting her hairpins with a hand mirror, "but then I realized, wait, I don't have a veil that's nearly long enough, haha! would you mind telling me where I could possibly find one like yours?" the question is asked in gentle tones, and silque slides her gaze over to the other girl, eyes crinkling at the corners. she had looked so radiant spinning about the ballroom floor, and she is just as beautiful here, now, away from all the chaos. it would be remiss to refrain from asking. silque smiles, offering a tulip in teasing exchange for the answer.

Ninian has surmised some rooms are not meant to be used, but in her time of need she doesn’t care. There — a door with a padlock. She slips into the room as quietly as she can. Mercifully, it works: The scout loses track of her, or else finds someone else to hound. Either way, she breathes a sigh... only for the door to open again.

A stranger joins her, though one who isn’t a threat; and so Ninian goes about setting her appearance to rights after her flight, making a deliberate effort not to glance at the other as she does much the same...

— Oh. So much for that.

“ ... Ah... ” is the most Ninian can muster, taken aback by the question — the interest — alone, never mind the offered tulip. “ I... I fear I couldn’t say... I brought my veil with me from overseas. ”

She smiles apologetically, all the more so because she brought the veil from another world entirely, before chancing a glance at the tulip — for, yes, it is held out still. The woman’s mind hasn’t changed.

Blushing, she looks at the stranger’s smile (much too genuine, crinkling the corners of her eyes and all) then lets her gaze fall again, half-considering simply heading for the door. That would be awfully rude even if she didn’t think she saw that smile back on the dance floor, though, and so —

Ninian gulps and steps forward to take the tulip at last, all too gingerly.

“ I... Ah... Thank you. Here, please do take one of my orchids yourself... ”

[astrasword]

@milafaithful sent: [ sample ] "Excuse me, professor… um…?" A single night is not nearly enough time to learn everyone's names, but Silque hopes a gesture of goodwill is enough to smooth things over. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I don't think these candies are made with mint at all. Perhaps there's been a switch-up somewhere?" Indeed, the treat in her mouth dissolves on the tongue like flour, with a bitter aftertaste vaguely reminiscent of Duma Moss. "They are still quite delicious, though!" Silque says sincerely, holding a tulip and the box of candies out in offering.

“Ayra,” she supplies promptly, giving the speaker an once-over and recognizing her as the newest student to join the Lions. “I was thinking the same... Silque, yes?”

The girl is straightforward enough, as well as considerate given that she went out of her way to warn Ayra... Although she also strikes the swordmaster as naïve.

“A switch-up. Optimistic, aren’t you? This is a prank, is what it is.”

Naïve, and odd. To think, she went out of her way to give a warning only to hold out the very thing she warned against. A brow lifts, but after a moment Ayra shrugs and takes her tulip at least.

“Thank you.” While speaking, she slips a lily into the girl’s hand. “Keep the candies, though. I would tell you to share with your classmates, but —” her lips curl upwards in the barest of smirks, “— they might not appreciate that very much.”

[aimlessarchery]

"oh, hello! if it isn't sir python!" silque offers the man a warm smile and drops into a shallow bow. "do you happen to be working hard, or hardly working, I wonder?"

not that he seems to be working at all; he's cleaned up far more nicely than she had ever seen him. and so she lifts her chin, scanning the room curiously with wide eyes---until she spots another familiar knight, in the same greens as the flower pinned to python's lapel.

"…ah, I see. so nothing's really changed, hmm?" she teases, bringing a hand up to cover her giggle.

Python follows Silque’s line of sight, though he can take a guess as to what she’s seen. His own eyes have drifted over to passively keep track of his old friend whenever they separate, same as usual.

“Same old, same old. As long as I’ve got that one working himself to death, it’s not like there’s much left for me to pick up after.”

He sighs, slumping forward like he’s been burdened with a heavy weight.

“Guess I’ll have to send a letter to the militia to let ‘em know we’ve lost a star healer up in the north. I’ll bet the monastery’s glad to have ya, though.” His slouch shifts, half-shielding his mouth from wandering eyes with an open palm as he continues, “If you thought the drama back home was rough, just wait ‘til you see some of the crap the highborns and weirdos get up to out here.”

(Those words are usually synonyms in his book, but he can't confirm that every weirdo he's dealt with has been a blueblood.)