I never thought of putting it that way... ( --comes the sudden admission, thoughtful, as though his words have some impact on her. ) That the places themselves chose us, rather than us choosing them.
( but it's true, isn't it? perhaps her way of thinking has just been backwards, in some respects; she's never really thought to call the settlements in solvunn home, and perhaps part of that is due to the fact that it always feels like she's drifting between them for jobs or tasks or whatever she can manage to do to help. if solvunn itself is the one that called her, did it do it for some sort of purpose? she's always just assumed that this place was some sort of happenstance, a mistake in the great wheel of fate that they had spun at a whim at the edge of midgar and beyond.
curious, her lips perk up into a smile; there's something contented about the thought, and she appreciates that the stranger himself is the one that brought it up to life. patiently, she waits for him to move a piece--and though she accepts his bow, it's accompanied by a playful seated curtsey, her hands gripping the edges of the skirt of her dress to fan it out as she dips her shoulders down with little movement. )
Why thank you, my lord. ( is that how royalty talks? it makes her laugh, tickled by it, before she reaches her hand to stretch across the board--and with a forlorn sigh, she picks up another pawn. rather than deposit it where it belongs, however, she lifts up one of claude's pawns as well, holding them between her knuckles; the pieces knock together. ) A terrible play on your part, though. By the rules of the Dance Duel, your piece is now mine. He broke his ankle and has to be retired to the castle.
( the bluff sounds believable enough if only because it's so ridiculous--with a shake of her head, she plops her pawn down where claude's piece had been, and she neatly sets his pawn down at the side of the table.
mischievous, her green eyes glint up at him, as though waiting for some sort of reprimand--she imagines this is absolutely not how the game is played at all, but--local rules? )
no subject
( but it's true, isn't it? perhaps her way of thinking has just been backwards, in some respects; she's never really thought to call the settlements in solvunn home, and perhaps part of that is due to the fact that it always feels like she's drifting between them for jobs or tasks or whatever she can manage to do to help. if solvunn itself is the one that called her, did it do it for some sort of purpose? she's always just assumed that this place was some sort of happenstance, a mistake in the great wheel of fate that they had spun at a whim at the edge of midgar and beyond.
curious, her lips perk up into a smile; there's something contented about the thought, and she appreciates that the stranger himself is the one that brought it up to life. patiently, she waits for him to move a piece--and though she accepts his bow, it's accompanied by a playful seated curtsey, her hands gripping the edges of the skirt of her dress to fan it out as she dips her shoulders down with little movement. )
Why thank you, my lord. ( is that how royalty talks? it makes her laugh, tickled by it, before she reaches her hand to stretch across the board--and with a forlorn sigh, she picks up another pawn. rather than deposit it where it belongs, however, she lifts up one of claude's pawns as well, holding them between her knuckles; the pieces knock together. ) A terrible play on your part, though. By the rules of the Dance Duel, your piece is now mine. He broke his ankle and has to be retired to the castle.
( the bluff sounds believable enough if only because it's so ridiculous--with a shake of her head, she plops her pawn down where claude's piece had been, and she neatly sets his pawn down at the side of the table.
mischievous, her green eyes glint up at him, as though waiting for some sort of reprimand--she imagines this is absolutely not how the game is played at all, but--local rules? )