[ OPEN ] hide your love, don't be shy

[godshattering]

Who: Claude and you!
When: all throughout August and September
Where: Cadens (pre-Nocwich), the Horizon (any time), and Libertas (post-Nocwich)
What: Catch all for both months
Warnings: For anything referencing Libertas: death, violence, and war


( Open and closed starters in the comments! Also good with prose or brackets and if you'd like to plot something more specific, you can find me at indech, arboria#1862, or by PM at any time. )

Comments

[godshattering]

[ 'Pro white piecer' makes it rather difficult to restrain a smile which he's doing lest she think it's at her expense, but the gesture for him to be seated following that makes it impossible to hold back. ]

Chess is the usual name for the game, and I can't say I've ever heard pro piecer before but I'm betting it'll take over as a new name for it very soon. [ So much for not teasing her about it a small bit, though he's certain to keep his tone light, all geniality. Still, he'll take the invitation and sit down just in time for yet another surprise. The offer to learn her name in exchange for winning one of the pieces has Claude studying her carefully, unable to keep himself from wondering if she does secretly know how to play chess after all. If not, the tiniest bluff he's been given is one he can also respect. ] And that's quite the wager to go with it. It's hard not to like someone who has that level of confidence in their skills.

As for the colors...

[ Claude trails off and looks down at the standard squares with pieces to match and studies in thought. The pieces aren't back where they belong, not really, though it was a fairly good attempt to straighten them up. And really, she has a point that the pieces are far from exciting to look at. Claude reaches to tap a knight with one finger, transforming the black stone of it and all the other pieces to a dark blue one shot through here and there with lighter and darker blues not unlike agate. At the same time, the pieces out of place slide across the board back to their beginning stations.

Afterwards, he raises an eyebrow while surveying his work. The board does look better now. ]

You're right, they were a little dull before. I have to admit I sometimes miss being able to do things like that outside of the Horizon, but it's probably for the best I can't change things at random. You choose which color you'd like to change the others to for your use.

[bloomly]

( it's not that she's suspicious of him, but more that there's a curiosity for his relatively pleasant, easy-going behavior that has her gaze focused on him as he sits down. he moves like someone who is used to a battlefield, or perhaps a ballroom: someone that knows the precise ways to move their body, someone who is used to standing tall or walking tall or maybe just being tall in general. of course, compared to her, anyone is quite high in stature, but: combined with his clothes, she feels like she's starting to piece together a story for this stranger.

the distraction comes with the way he touches the board--and it shouldn't be a surprise, just as it shouldn't be anything particularly flashy, but her hands lift from the lap of her dress, pressing her palms together like it's something to marvel over. the pieces on his side flood with a beautiful blue, sliding around the squares on the board; it turns out she hadn't gotten them all back to where they belonged, but that doesn't seem to matter. ) How gorgeous...!

( what sort of color is it? the color of the deep ocean, perhaps, or a shimmering gemstone, hidden in the dust--it doesn't make her think of the sky, or the terrifying color of it, or even the blue-green shimmer of mako in the irises of those that she loved once. )

For me, then... ( carefully, her fingers pluck at one of the pieces from the corner of the board: it looks like the top of a castle, perhaps, like a tower illustrated from a storybook about princesses and terrible magicians, and as she touches it, the white flickers through with pale pink striping, curling around the piece like a ribbon. when she sets it back down on the board, the rest of her pieces follow suit; they look like candy, all wrapped up neatly in the same pink of the bow in her hair. ) Perfect! This should be fine.

( amused, her gaze flickers up to the stranger--with one hand, she gestures across the board, both casual and playful. )

I think I'll let you start. I don't want to be too much of a pro and scare you, and it's kinder for the guest to let their host take the lead. ( there's a faint smile, in case it isn't obvious that her confidence, while strong, is gentle in nature, not the sort that will get upset about being proven wrong. )

[godshattering]

[ As she picks up a piece and considers it, or maybe her options of what can be done now that the colors on the board are changing to anything but the standard ones, Claude uses it as a chance to study her as well. Her actions read as self-assurance, from sitting down to a game he's still not wholly sure she knows how to play to the (sort of) challenge that he won't get to learn her name without winning a piece first. Whether it's real or not is yet to be seen; then again, with the general range of emotions he tends to switch through as needed, it's not like he has any room to talk.

The pieces changing over to be striped through to match a color she wears is fitting, and Claude spares a brief glance towards the ribbon in question before meeting her gaze once more. Now he can't help but raise an eyebrow whether this is a planned strategy or not. Perhaps he's just leaning too much on what he knows when it comes to figuring someone else out. ]

It is, is it? Someone once told me there's value in not making the first move. Better to not let your opponents see your plans right away, and all that. [ Or 'someone' is Claude. It's almost definitely him who said that and in reference to some of his own plans. ] You're proving your pro status with each tactic.

[ He contemplates the board then with a slight half-smile, running through a list of common strategies it's been too long since he's had a chance to use without anyone to play. Though this likely won't end up being the strictest to the letter game of chess he's ever played, Claude finds he's looking forward to that, to something decidedly different. At the end of his few seconds of pondering, he reaches to nudge a pawn forward and leans an elbow on the arm of his chair to wait for her move. ]

We've covered that I'll have to pass a test before I get to learn your name, but do I get to learn which faction you're from before then or will that be worth something else?

[ Not that he minds if it's the latter. They've got nothing but time on their hands, after all. ]

[bloomly]

Oh, so you're the sneaky type... No, I definitely get that vibe.

( it's said in such a cheerful, speculative voice that it's obvious she doesn't mean offense by it--but it is an observation, one that she makes where she's propped an elbow up on the table, now, dangerously close to the edge of the chessboard. she takes care not to bump it; as much as her gaze moves between the pieces and the man in front of her, she's not entirely sure she could recreate the positioning from memory, and there's only so far her bluffs can take her, especially a second time.

for now, she sets her chin in her hands, watching his hand move across the board. his fingers pluck at one of the front pieces: she imagines that those are like some line of defense, and honestly, in some ways, the man before her talks like someone who knows their way with military and the like. or maybe he just reads a lot of books. it's hard to say.

she considers his request with lips that press together--with a soft hum, she lifts her chin up from her palm, dances fingers across the board, and plucks one of her own little defense pieces from the front row, meeting the stranger's little defense piece head to head.

she seems to stare at them both for a moment, before nodding to herself, as if securing the place of the piece. )

...Hmm, I suppose that's fair. I'm from Solvunn. I don't think you are. ( her hands fold down into her lap, playfully demure. ) Your turn, Prince Bluepiecer.

[godshattering]

Well, it's a rather apt vibe if I do say so myself. One might even say my specialty is that sneakiness in so many ways.

[ Not that he's patting himself on the back here or anything. Or - he is just a little since that craftiness led to all kinds of small triumphs he's yet to replicate in Abraxas, so no need to make it his reputation here just yet past what could be easily dismissed as a joking tone and nothing more.

As she moves her own pawn forward to meet his, he glances down at the pieces now facing each other as if having their own conversation while they conduct theirs above it. The nod she gives the board as if wishing it well or good luck causes Claude to hide a smile to himself before she looks up. It's not very successful, mostly since it reappears at the title she bestows on him. ]

I'm royalty now, am I? [ There's more than a little amusement in his tone thanks to that being more entertaining on his end than it has any right to be, but he'll save acting formal for sometime later. Maybe. ] I haven't met many from Solvunn yet as you're right, I'm not from there. The Free Cities are who summoned me here at their whims, though more specifically I'm in Cadens. That makes us as close to neighbors as Abraxas allows for given the state of things.

[ While talking Claude continues to evaluate moves out of chess habits built up from a lifetime of playing and watching others do it. Now, however, he shifts another pawn less in any specific plan and more because it allows him to do the following that much sooner. And purely to entertain himself and with no small amount of mischief present, he'll bow as much as being seated allows him to do with all the flourish of royalty along with, ] I believe it's your turn now, my lady in pink. And perhaps you can tell me a bit about Solvunn as well, though you choose what you'd like that to be.

[bloomly]

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? )

[godshattering]

[ At what she says about the places choosing them and not the other way around, Claude shifts to studying her from the corner of his gaze despite the illusion projected of still studying the board post-quasi-bow. An interesting way to phrase that, he thinks, given that none of them chose to be here. Or so he's thought based on what he's heard; perhaps there's more to that than he knows or what he experienced himself that he's centered so much on while finding his way in the Free Cities.

A familiar enough feeling to go through again, not having much idea or in this case, zero, of where he's going or what he'll find. This time he'd been prepared after arriving and that there were others there who knew exactly what it felt like helped immensely. It seems each faction is different, however, so Solvunn could be something else entirely. He'll have to set that line of thought aside for now as her laugh causes a genuine smile to appear on his face despite his usual rules of filtering reactions through something (or multiple somethings) else, and so does the casual rewriting of chess rules and his pawn meeting a quick end before being swept away.

This is probably a good sign it's not for the best to get mired down in too many thoughts hardly given a chance to begin. ]

That's unfortunate, because I hear as part of the duels there is an actual dance they're all invited to later. Some sort of ball or something close to it - very formal and well-regarded - but maybe there'll be a chair he can sit in to not be left out. [ Claude shrugs with his hands turned up towards the sky as if to say, how unfortunate, as he sits up from slouching back in his chair. ] Though if that's the case, it'd probably also be a kindness to make sure he has some company. Wouldn't want him to feel left out all by his lonesome since that can make it difficult to properly enjoy a party.

[ He is, shamelessly, immediately going to copy her move by bringing a pawn forward to capture hers. But true to his words, Claude places it next to his captured piece much as two wallflowers on the edge of a ballroom floor might stick together. There is something else important to mention, since - ]

I'll leave it up to you to decide whether that earns me getting to know your name, what with copying your pro piecer strategies but I have to say I've always liked collecting chess moves I admire. And if it's not enough, then maybe it can be swapped out for telling me about Solvunn instead. Only whatever you'd like to say about it, that is.

[bloomly]

( it shouldn’t surprise her that he seeks to copy her move—especially since she’s almost positive it’s not even a proper move, not even something standard to the game. her hands sit in her lap, poised on her thighs, and she stares at the board, then at the two pieces, as though trying to puzzle out a way to save her own; but it is what it is, and their two pawns sit on the sidelines now, the perfect company for two wallflowers hoping to pass an evening by observation only. so she does the only thing she can do: and laughs, wrinkling her nose slightly as she shakes her head. )

What a marvelous play. I should have prepared for it!

( her lips press out, as though half-disappointed with herself, but a deal is a deal, and before she can lift her hands to inquire about moving another piece, she decides to relent by the terms of their deal. )

But, I guess you’re just as pro as me, huh? Just remember that names have power, your lordship, or whatever I should call you. ( she’s beaming a little, as she lifts up one arm. ) My name is Aerith. Last name, Gainsborough. It’s okay to just call me Aerith, though.

( her hand stretches out across the length of the board: she’s holding it patiently over his pieces, her slender fingers pressed together to offer him a handshake. it isn’t the sort that might be done at the end of a game, as though conceding the victory, but more that it seems polite to introduce herself with proper manners, instead of continuing on with her next play, first. )

Since I won a piece, too, you have to return the favor, right? Or should we just use royal names instead? I kind of like that.

[godshattering]

No Lady Gainsborough as a title, then?

[ He's teasing, ever so slightly, all based upon what feels like a polite insistence that first names are more than acceptable. Something which suits him fine considering even made up titles can be unwieldy after a while, and the lack of formality and all its guidelines here has been a welcome change for him. Still, Claude leans forward in his chair to grasp her hand in a firm handshake with a smile. ]

Regardless, you're right that fair's fair - even more so because you won your piece outright whereas I merely borrowed your method to ensure I'd get to know your name. Which is, perhaps, not the best demonstration of fairness on my end. [ As he lets go of Aerith's hand he lifts one shoulder in a vague shrug, unrepentant about that copying as a method to get them to here. ] I'm Claude von Riegan. It's very nice to meet you, Aerith.

[ Claude turns in his seat then like he's recalled something abruptly, as if it isn't just the Horizon's malleable nature at work when he reaches for the tea tray at the edge of the table their chessboard rests on. Somewhere, he thinks wryly, he can hear his mother admonishing him in an echo of lectures from ages ago. There's a chance to make up for it now with offering her something to drink with her choice of Fodlan's teas waiting in the different compartments inside the box. ]

You'll have to forgive me for not offering any tea sooner as I may have been a little too distracted by having someone to finally play chess with to think of it right away. This is all assuming you also drink tea, but you're also welcome to have something else if you'd prefer.