by Drusia » June 27th, 2010, 10:55 pm
"I'm open to any avenue of conversation," he admitted, wandering over to a magical cooler. "I'm engaged in some rather private research at the moment, but perhaps we can discuss what had been happening in Tsuirakushiti? I've been out of touch for some time, I fear." He opened the cooler. "Can I offer you some refreshment? Some wine, maybe? It's not up to the standards of home, but I daresay that it's better than anything else you can find in this backwater."
"Some wine would be lovely," I agree. I wait until he pours us both a glass, and hands me mine. "To homecomings," I say, holding up my glass, "However complex or delayed." He echoes me and we touch our glasses in the accustomed style. I take a drink from mine and watch to see that he does as well.
"It's quite fine," I tell him, breathing in the scent more thoroughly before taking a second drink.
"Let me see," I say thoughtfully. I begin by relating him details surrounding, but not directly touching on the ambassadorial visit. Let him think it's emotional sensitivity on my part - actually, it's because, having been on one of the dreadful things years ago, I know a thing or two about the chaos they cause. Those memories, and a healthy dose of recent news and current names related to me by Maudin and Argus over the past few weeks when the topic of Tsuirakushiti has come up (conversations I am now very glad I paid attention to) allow me to paint a fairly accurate picture of recent events there. I take care to focus on the minutia of the personal experience - after all, I wouldn't have been privy to anything particularly important.
I mention a friend in the arts and the conversation slides effortlessly to classical performance styles and their modern reinterpretations. This is a topic I became well acquainted with on my one diplomatic visit to the city, and have discussed since with Maudin having an genuine interest in it. I bring up the use of magical pyrotechnics during musical concerts - a point of occasional controversy - and two hours slip away discussing in detail the specifications and ramifications of the style, both from critical and craft standpoints.
I break from the discussion and laugh aloud. Kurou gives me a surprised look, but I shake my head, smiling.
"It just occured to me," I told him, "That only hours ago someone tried to kill me, and here I am now having a wonderfully animated discussion about the arts. It struck me as absurd, which brings to mind yet another art movement, but I think I shall leave that one to discuss tomorrow." I shake my head.
"Arsoro," I say, facing him, "Strange as this all has been, I have to say, I think I'm glad I ended up here. You are a very kind man, and somehow even in the face of everything that's happened recently you make me feel safe." I tilt my head slightly, considering him, my eyelids drifting just a hair lower. That's something I like about Tsuirakians; they don't beat around the bush like they so often do here in Vericia. I let him see that I'm attracted to him, and I let him see that I'm considering doing something about it. I'm not making the first move, but my body language is suggesting that, if you ask, I'll say yes.
"So..." I say softly, letting it hang in the air, open and inviting.
-- Drusia
OOC: I figured it was time to move the conversation along. No objections, I take it? **smug smile**