“The rich do it with whale bones, most settle for whatevers on hand.” he said noncommittally, “Most don't go as far as to raid the local ossuary though. Caro stood there awkwardly lading out whatever deranged sangria was available in the nondescript bowls on the drinks table. He handed the cleaner of the two cups over to Emse after he had dribbled wine over the edge of his cup and knuckles pouring his own. He swapped hands and moved to wipe his hand on his clothes before spying the vibrantly dark purple and thought better. He brought the back of hand to his lips for a moment before finally spying a a cleansing cloth nearby. Sheepishly he cleaned his hands and picked his drink back up. And stared back at Esme, knowing full well where this question led.
“Can you believe that the Circle had some basic ball room dancing courses?” Strange as it its it wasn't uncommon to have mages at high end events at the behest of the upper crust. Bryne had never gone to one of these events himself but he was told that it was the uncomfortable half space between a new and interesting spectacle and being showed off like a bovine at auction. People left excited and came back quiet. Lord knows how much the circle made in kickbacks. “I know just about enough that your foot is safe. As is your dignity.” He smiled, “If you are so inclined.”
“Just a moment.” he held up a hand, open palm to Esme. “He drained his dark drink and winced as it burned just behind the bridge of his nose. It was fruity with a definite aftertaste of whatever he had been drinking in bed the last month or so. He held out his hand “If you would grant me the honor of this dance Miss Dunnik?” He put his forehead to the back of her outstretched hand and led them to the floor. Caro could hear the words of his dance instructor speaking as they began. People on the floor speak among themselves as if they're the only ones who can hear, it's your duty to pretend you heard nothing and not reference anything you did hear. Great rules for a set piece mage with no social context, but for a spy it was laughable. He stepped between the other dancers in a practiced pattern, eyes on Esme.
“Can you believe that the Circle had some basic ball room dancing courses?” Strange as it its it wasn't uncommon to have mages at high end events at the behest of the upper crust. Bryne had never gone to one of these events himself but he was told that it was the uncomfortable half space between a new and interesting spectacle and being showed off like a bovine at auction. People left excited and came back quiet. Lord knows how much the circle made in kickbacks. “I know just about enough that your foot is safe. As is your dignity.” He smiled, “If you are so inclined.”
“Just a moment.” he held up a hand, open palm to Esme. “He drained his dark drink and winced as it burned just behind the bridge of his nose. It was fruity with a definite aftertaste of whatever he had been drinking in bed the last month or so. He held out his hand “If you would grant me the honor of this dance Miss Dunnik?” He put his forehead to the back of her outstretched hand and led them to the floor. Caro could hear the words of his dance instructor speaking as they began. People on the floor speak among themselves as if they're the only ones who can hear, it's your duty to pretend you heard nothing and not reference anything you did hear. Great rules for a set piece mage with no social context, but for a spy it was laughable. He stepped between the other dancers in a practiced pattern, eyes on Esme.
02-01-2025, 02:25 PM
