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"Good girl," Teren murmurs, lightly affectionate if distracted as she gets a better look at her work.
"Four," she answers after a moment, beginning to reset pins where the spacing needs adjustment, "got my work cut out for me."
"Four," she answers after a moment, beginning to reset pins where the spacing needs adjustment, "got my work cut out for me."
Edited (changing the whole tag bc this is better) 2024-12-17 20:15 (UTC)
[ the reflexive urge for correction grapples with the desire to have this conversation at a reasonable volume – ]
Thank you. I trust you quite aware of how your casting feels, have you found that at all altered for its presence?
[ enchanters have eardrums to protect ]
Thank you. I trust you quite aware of how your casting feels, have you found that at all altered for its presence?
[ enchanters have eardrums to protect ]
Vega decides she's ignoring that in favour of thinning her mouth out into a straight line but she does not disrupt the good tension of the work.
She holds herself in check for a moment and then says, voice as calm as she can get it to go, "I am a lady and not your worker. You'll address me with respect.
She holds herself in check for a moment and then says, voice as calm as she can get it to go, "I am a lady and not your worker. You'll address me with respect.
"Will I indeed," Teren answers lightly, conversationally, without looking up, "and what's it mean to me that you're a lady? For all you know, I'm a lady."
Certainly Riftwatch would benefit from their review.
[ riftwatch. like she wasn't on the fucking groupchat ]
Confidentially, of course. A detailed account attracts eyes.
[ riftwatch. like she wasn't on the fucking groupchat ]
Confidentially, of course. A detailed account attracts eyes.
"Is that right?"
Now Teren pauses, cocking her head to meet Vega's eyes squarely, just long enough to properly instill doubt. Then, as though nothing happened, she returns to her sewing.
"What's to be done, then?" she chats, "commanding your vassals from here? You don't sound Marcher."
Now Teren pauses, cocking her head to meet Vega's eyes squarely, just long enough to properly instill doubt. Then, as though nothing happened, she returns to her sewing.
"What's to be done, then?" she chats, "commanding your vassals from here? You don't sound Marcher."
It was just a drink; I’ll have time to make you something better next time.
( A horse. She knows what to carve now. It’s an offhand promise, quick and breezy, with the assumption of of course I’ll get you something again. )
Although not to be rude but— ( Astrid hesitates. She doesn’t have an anchor-shard herself so she’s fuzzy on the specifics, but: ) Don’t you, like, go crazy and die if you leave here? ‘Cos of your hand.
( A horse. She knows what to carve now. It’s an offhand promise, quick and breezy, with the assumption of of course I’ll get you something again. )
Although not to be rude but— ( Astrid hesitates. She doesn’t have an anchor-shard herself so she’s fuzzy on the specifics, but: ) Don’t you, like, go crazy and die if you leave here? ‘Cos of your hand.
Edited 2025-01-22 23:12 (UTC)
Okay.
(Strange to not know what to say, here. People don't promise to get her things let alone better things, and next time. She feels the need to fidget. She sits on her hands.)
Well — yes, apparently. But I won't have this thing in my hand forever, will I. Research is working on a way to get rid of them.
(And saying this makes Vega realise she has absolutely no idea if that is the truth.)
(Strange to not know what to say, here. People don't promise to get her things let alone better things, and next time. She feels the need to fidget. She sits on her hands.)
Well — yes, apparently. But I won't have this thing in my hand forever, will I. Research is working on a way to get rid of them.
(And saying this makes Vega realise she has absolutely no idea if that is the truth.)
"Yes." It's the rule.
Vega watches her, unblinking, held tense. She only relaxes again when Teren's eyes drift off her, back to the task at hand.
"Well, of course I don't. I'm not. I—"
And it seems to pain her, suddenly, to have to admit this. She mutters, "I don't have vassals. I wasn't supposed to come here."
Vega watches her, unblinking, held tense. She only relaxes again when Teren's eyes drift off her, back to the task at hand.
"Well, of course I don't. I'm not. I—"
And it seems to pain her, suddenly, to have to admit this. She mutters, "I don't have vassals. I wasn't supposed to come here."
My office is presently unoccupied,
[ a blessing that mobius' work is more often about the library ]
Else there's a splendid cafe in Hightown. Busy little place.
[ two distinct forms of privacy. he's interested in which she might choose. ]
[ a blessing that mobius' work is more often about the library ]
Else there's a splendid cafe in Hightown. Busy little place.
[ two distinct forms of privacy. he's interested in which she might choose. ]
"Perhaps it's of no importance, then, whether one is a lady here or not," Teren remarks, keeping her eyes fixed on her work, "what were you supposed to be doing?"
Teren's gaze flits to the griffon, but she doesn't speak or make any sudden movements, not wanting to startle either the beast or the girl in front of her.
"And why aren't you?" asked matter-of-factly. If you're going to throw a pity party, you're going to have to justify it.
"And why aren't you?" asked matter-of-factly. If you're going to throw a pity party, you're going to have to justify it.
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