dumbshow | highly new, slightly improved open post

highly new, slightly improved open post

assorted morons

optional prompts/ideas

☆ caught in the rain meme
☆ little steps meme
☆ affectionate physical contact meme
☆ picture prompt also acceptable but link them so it's tidy
☆ AU ideas: soulmates AU, reincarnation AU, Bad End AU, canon divergent/roleswap AU, dorky college AU, crossover AU, super indulgent high fantasy AU
☆ melodrama is ultimate tier
★ SHIPPING AND FUCC:
☆ non-fluffy relationship types I'm down for: codependent, master/servant power imbalance type ships, "we're bad for each other but worse for anyone else," other things I am failing to think of tbh
☆ things I am not into: noncon (includes "dubcon"), incest, tsundere shit if your tsundere is just verbally abusive, gratuitous torture porn, you'll probably have to ask me about harder kinks and they will vary by character
☆ I don't have a kink list so pitch me an idea if u thirsty
☆ if you would prefer a locked post I can also make that happen

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[It's a rigid kind of embarrassment keeping Constantin upright at the moment; this is his city, he is the governor, he can do as he pleases within the boundaries of the law, etc— but it's still folly to be found in need of rescue by a stranger, no matter how noble or otherwise. Someone more intimately familiar with his, hmm, indiscretions - well, those fine few are acceptable losses.

Still, it's sobering in every sense but the literal one to have, now, an escort who wants to give him that kind of look and fret after his safety. Aha...]

Home. I am in urgent need of a hot bath and a comfortable bed!

[At least he hardly needs to give his address; Orsay Square has only so many manors for the wayward governor to take up residence in. Constantin straightens up and squares his shoulders, takes a deep breath and then a step forward - still upright, and with minimal wobbling to show for it. Not that he can walk all the way back home at a pace like this, so do stay close to him.]

Well then, let us be off! And let us perhaps take the long way around when we reach the square, as my night guards are sterner than they're paid to be.

[The governor they'll leave well enough alone, but the mysterious man bringing the governor back filthy and bruised, not so much.]

[Liem nods― the destination is straightforward enough, though he doesn’t relish the thought of being caught accompanying d’Orsay back home in this state. He has the feeling he could easily end up looking sorrier than the good governor should luck not be in their favour once they reach the end of their journey.

Oddly enough, however, the unexpected errand does somewhat brighten his mood. His job is usually a thankless one, done entirely in shadows or behind closed doors. It is a pleasant change of pace to do a service for someone and be deserving of genuine thanks, much less actually receive them. A rather dry smile of private amusement briefly catches hold of his features. He must really be in need of a vacation, if an evening spent trading blows with drunkards is an improvement over his usual routine.]

No matter. [He attempts to be cordial, aware that his presence has likely damaged the spirit of the young lord’s outing. Liem keeps pace with the governor easily, casting his gaze now and then at the deeper shadows along their way but not really expecting any further trouble.] It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to contend with their like. I’m more used to discretion than I am to throwing my fists, truth be told.

[It's difficult not to feel... petulant, tipsy as he is - he hardly needs to be escorted home like some invalid child! But while he's already given up on protesting, the slouch in his step as they head towards the edge of the port district betrays him anyway. The adventurous nighttime outing... is over.

At the very least, he has some interesting company. There's that much.]

And yet you ran to my rescue at a moment's notice!

[There's more than a touch of amusement in that, while he squints shamelessly at his escort. It's dark and he's had liquor and head trauma tonight, but should he recognize this man? Discretion, he says, and Constantin wonders if he means it in the way of a diplomat, like his cousin, or something more... well. Like someone who's close by dark alleys in the bad part of town for reasons besides a cheap thrill.

The mystery!! Night is improving again!!!]

When will I learn the name of my magnificent rescuer? You've already weaseled out mine, much to my chagrin. I'd say it's only fair!

[Ha, yes, well… There aren’t many aside from the city guard who will run towards the sound of a scuffle to break up the melee. Assistance would likely not have been forthcoming. Even specialized as he is in rather the opposite direction of such things, he’d feel a poor example of a civic-minded citizen were he to turn a blind eye. Liem simply shrugs in tacit agreement of his statement, not sure what, if anything, to say that wouldn’t in essence equate to “if someone’s going to get pounded, better me than you.”]

Right you are, sir. [He smiles ruefully.] I’m a poor example of a gentleman tonight. Liem Talbott, at your service.

[Liem inclines his head with exaggerated formality, though the tone of his voice betrays his awareness that their current situation is anything but. He can think of worse circumstances to make someone’s acquaintance, though not many with less grandeur.]

[Well that gets Constantin to laugh again, pitching sideways as he aims another jovial whap at his companion's shoulder and just barely stopping himself from falling over completely. Haha! A poor gentleman...]

How many tables have you flipped in public today, my most dependable Sir Talbott?

[It's been a long night. Note that he's most certainly not embarrassed about the table incident, although he really ought to be. Perhaps next time!]

I can name a handful of poorer gentlemen than you out and about tonight. Myself included! But what is a night out on the town without a healthy dollop of danger?

[He pivots on his heel, because he's definitely in a good enough state to be walking backwards and gesturing with his arms wide, to the night and his one-man audience. All of his remaining agility is being spent on this alone.]

Dull! We two may be roguish scoundrels, [let him dream] but we're hardly- ah—

[And that's Constantin, tripping backwards over a loose cobblestone.]

[Liem isn’t a large man, but he weathers a slap on the shoulder from his current companion easily enough. Most of the force seems to be directed to pitching the man very nearly onto the cobbles, causing in Liem something like a full-body twitch as he barely restrains the urge to lunge after him. Doubtless the man would prefer not to be nannied, but he’d very much prefer to bring the governor home without any further injuries if it can at all be helped.

The young man’s mirth does nonetheless find Liem in good humour, though as always he keeps his amusement contained behind a closed-lipped smile. Gods, men like him make the inquisitor feel old. Even when he was young he doesn’t think he’s ever been so carefree. Well, perhaps in brief moments―but those are long gone.]

I’m guessing at least one fewer than you, [he says, though he doubts d’Orsay asked with a burning desire for an answer.

Good humour aside, however, to say that the man’s rather animated manner of travel along the street has Liem on edge wouldn’t be an overstatement. He’s not at all surprised to see his companion misstep and pitch backwards in the midst of his grandiose maneuver, and this time he does make a lunge for him. Raised as the man’s arms are, however, he isn’t left with much to grab aside from the front of his coat, resulting in him staggering forward with the governor clutched in something akin to an extremely rough and ungraceful dip.

Gods, this really wasn't how he'd expected his night to go.]

[Constantin has enough wits about him to ready himself, mentally, maybe spiritually, for the meeting he's about to have with the ground. One second he's already imagining his head bouncing off the street like it did off the wall in the alley, and the next— ah, no? No, he's been caught. He hangs there blinking up at the night sky, like he hasn't quite comprehended what's going on.

Hmm!]

Ha! You really are my lucky charm tonight, aren't you?

[He shuffles his feet to stabilize himself, one hand gripping Liem's forearm to brace himself. It goes only slightly well at this particular angle, in this particular sort-of-dip position. He's doing what he can.]

Perhaps a proper gentleman could offer me his arm in the more traditional sense, seeing as how I am... somewhat inebriated.

[Slightly. A little. Please hold him up or he'll break all his teeth on the cobblestones.]

[It takes Liem a moment to finally gather himself and heave the both of them fully upright. Yes, archery is a demanding practice for one’s upper body, but he’s not exactly used to hauling around full-sized people, especially not men who are taller than he is. And his constitution is regrettably not the sturdiest. He struggles for a few seconds to catch his breath, wearing a somewhat harried expression as he wordlessly pats his companion on the shoulder.]

Sir, you may be the death of us both. [When he finally gathers himself to speak, his words are dry.] I think we’ve established that neither of us are proper gentleman at the moment, but you speak good sense.

[He does indeed offer his arm, praying to god that the good governor won’t find a way to trip the both of them with his drunken feet. An unlikely outcome perhaps, but shepherding drunk, rowdy young politicians is not a typical item on his nightly schedule, and is turning out to be a more demanding job than previously imagined. Mostly just on his poor heart.]

I shall aim to be luckier from here.

[Good sense! Now there's something he doesn't hear every day, especially not when he's drunk and being hauled around town. He can't help but chuckle again, good-naturedly as he gratefully takes Liem's arm to lean on. Good sense...]

I'll try not to be the death of anyone. In any other circumstance I would say I owe you a drink for your help, but! Perhaps another time.

[Not that he thinks he'll ever see Sir Liem Talbott ever again, after tonight, but it's a genuine sort of offer. He's grateful and drunk enough to be emotional about it, which falling all over the place is ironically saving him from showing too much.

At least it isn't much further out of the seedier districts. Constantin insists on taking a few turns that seem like just idle wandering until it becomes clear that he's avoiding the few guards that are on watch the closer they get to the main city square. Has he done this before? Of course he has! He's usually even capable of doing it alone!

But it's a more circuitous walk than necessary, and after a while he says, softer and with less of his earlier bravado now,] I've taken up so much of your time. You really must let me make it up to you somehow.

[Owed a drink for his assistance? Liem smiles at the idea, agreeing to the possibility with a noncommittal] Perhaps. [only because he’s certain that the two of them won’t cross paths again. Or rather that should they happen to do so, the good governor won’t remember his face nor such an idle offer.

Governor d’Orsay likely will return to his soft bed and forget all the finer details of his drink-fueled adventure, and Liem will conclude his business in this part of town soon enough and have no need to frequent the districts where a thrill-seeking young aristocrat might sneak off to in the middle of the night. Hopefully the gods watch over their governor in the future and he continues to make it back home in one piece under his own power.

He’s a little surprised to hear d’Orsay speak up as they make their way closer to their destination. Perhaps he supposed that the man’s earlier offer would be the extent of his thanks. It’s as he had said earlier: to assist him without knowing his name or face could be termed noble. After the fact, it becomes very nearly an obligation. But… he supposes he was never clear about that fact.]

There’s no need. [He gestures with his free hand as he speaks, his tone light.] I’m no guard, but… my duty is still to the city. [In a manner of speaking.] This is a fine use of my time, and not―I think―even that much of it, all things considered.

[It’s just the simple truth that his time is less valuable than most other people’s. The outing itself may have been of a frivolous nature, but he could never consider his assistance this evening to be a waste. If anything, his patron may have guided his feet down that street for this exact purpose.]

[A duty to the city... Constantin shakes his head, not because he has some kind of objection to the mild suggestion that the city and the governor are nearly one and the same (he has never even considered objecting to that sort of thing), but rather—]

You are an exceedingly difficult man to thank, Sir Talbott! I could order you to let me make it up to you, as the governor. It would be a decree of unprecedented self-indulgence, and terribly embarrassing for at least one of us!

[Not him, that is. He's politely embarrassed by many things, but grossly misusing his governor privileges isn't one of them. One day he'll unpack that, but for now: please, hush and accept this.]

As your governor, I will... send you a bottle of wine. Then this frustrating habit of yours can't lift its head and argue with me about needing anything.

[See? Two birds, one stone.]

Ah…

[Oh, gods. Please do not make a decree for that purpose. Liem absolutely will be mortified enough for both of them and then some. Even being thanked by the governor in front of one person would be embarrassingly conspicuous, let alone having such a thing go through the process of being turned into a legal mandate.]

I would protest, but you seem to have me outmaneuvered. [He chuckles ruefully, regarding d’Orsay with a hint of newfound wariness.] Perhaps I shouldn’t have given you my name after all.

[He still doesn’t understand the man’s persistence. He can’t remember ever being in such a position before, where someone would go out of their way simply to express their gratitude to him personally. But if he truly feels that way, it would be best to accept his offer. The idea of the governor feeling indebted to him makes Liem deeply uncomfortable.]

If you are so determined, I will humbly accept your thanks. And I suppose a bottle of wine, should you insist.

[Oh, good, his decree-dictating time is saved for practical matters. Don't worry - it's possible all he'll remember about this conversation in the morning is "wine," so it could be a nonissue! But then, he could just as likely remember every word. It's anyone's game until the sun rises.

Still; he's pleased with himself at the moment, patting Liem's arm with fond approval. Thank you, yes, very kind to listen to him.]

I do insist! It is... the least I can do, after all you've done for me tonight.

[And that's that settled in a way everyone is very happy with, just as they round a corner and the edge of the square comes into view, with the governor's manor looming opposite them, a pair of guards out front. It's hard to tell at this distance whether they're both wide awake and alert, but Constantin isn't going to risk it, steering them along the edge of the square. It's a wide open space and it's a damnably clear night, but the additional shadows provided by the buildings lining the square should make them nothing more than smudges, if the guards are even looking.

Constantin drops his voice to a whisper, or at least, mostly a whisper.] There is a trellis behind my dear cousin's residence on the far side that we must reach, and then you will be free to go about the rest of your night.

[A trellis. He's going to climb it.]

[Well, at least the governor is happy now that he’s been appeased. And… Liem supposes he’s glad of the sentiment, sort of. Even if he basically had to be threatened to accept the man’s gratitude. Expressions of heartfelt camaraderie are a bit like the warm rays of the sun―foreign and unsettling when aimed at him, pleasant for just about everyone else. In this particular instance, he’s just going to have to deal with it.

Both of their thoughts are fortunately occupied when the governor’s manor finally looms into view. Accepting d’Orsay’s lead, Liem skirts the edge of the square alongside him, his booted feet making hardly a sound along the cobbles. This clearly isn’t his companion’s first clandestine adventure, so he surely must have a reliable way to slip in and out of his home even when circumstances impair his agility. Surely.]

… A trellis? [His voice is hushed, but still has an audibly doubting quality. ] You’re… confident you can navigate it? Considering…? [“How piss-faced you got tonight” being the unspoken conclusion to this thought.]

[Is that doubt he hears? After his very competent walk back? He only tripped one time!

Simply:]

Yes.

[Although given the intoxication, being confident and being capable are two different things. He's... probably done this before, but he pauses to raise an eyebrow at Liem for his totally unfounded skepticism. Hello? He's very confident!]

It is a highly robust trellis! Why, are you going to carry me up to my chambers next? I daresay attempting that wouldn't work near as well as this little adventure has.

[Ye of little faith! He's drunk and therefore impervious to pain. Additional pain, from falling off the side of his own house.]

[Well, misgivings aside, Liem has to admit that his companion is right about one thing―even were he inclined to, he certainly wouldn’t be able to simply carry d’Orsay back inside. He’s going to have to get back up to his chambers under his own power.]

Because this adventure has gone so smoothly so far. [Muttered sarcasm isn’t the most appropriate way to address one’s governor, but it’s certainly an appropriate way to speak to a drunk who’s about to try scaling his own house. Still, his sour tone is representative of his grudging acceptance of d’Orsay’s plan. He has no real argument against it beyond “go ‘round to the front door instead,” which is quite evidently not something the governor is willing to consider.

Liem just sincerely hopes that he doesn’t have to try breaking the governor’s fall in the event that his (possibly only somewhat drink-induced) surplus of self-confidence proves misplaced. He’s certain it wouldn’t end well for either of them, but unfortunately there’s also zero chance that he could just watch the man plummet off the side of his house without at least attempting to catch him. Damn, he really is his own worst enemy sometimes.]

That it has! Chin up, my marvelous friend, for it could have been worse!

[Which is the rule by which Constantin judges all of his nights out on the town, for the record, but he doesn't have to share that. He does have to put a stopper on his renewed enthusiasm as they approach the side of the manor, though, and hunches over slightly like bending a little at the waist will hide him from any and all guards who come looking for the source of noise on this side of the building.

So here they go, secret stealth mission up to the trellis, which doesn't seem weathered from many a climb, but that's probably a good thing. It will hold. Constantin puts a hand on it, and steps on the lowermost climbable spot a few times to test this, then of course - he kind of poses, since he ought to look impressive before they never see each other again.

He would, again, tip his hat, but his hat is definitely lost in a gutter some distance away. It's the thought that counts.]

I'm off! Good night, and do enjoy the rest of the evening!

[He'd scurry away into the darkness above, but he's definitely too drunk for that, so he starts to climb... slowly. He thinks it looks very dashing, regardless.]

[It’s debatable how dashing he really looks, bruised and bloodied and poised to scale his garden trellis as though he were infiltrating a prison tower. He has enthusiasm though, and counts for something. He may have been beaten by thugs and lost his hat, but his spirit is most certainly not broken.

Liem keeps his ears pricked just in case the nearby guards decide to take an interest in the far side of the manor, but his eyes stay on d’Orsay as he makes to begin his climb.]

Good night, governor. [He inclines his head politely one last time, raising one hand to rest it over his chest, where his holy symbol hangs on a chain beneath his clothes. God willing, their farewell will be concluded without incident.

He watches as d’Orsay climbs slowly up the side of the manor, still intent on seeing his escort through to its final conclusion. Good as his night vision is, the trellis doesn’t so much vanish up into the gloom for him as it does simply… climb in full view up the side of the house, the same as it would during the day. There’s no need to concern the governor with that knowledge, though. It'll be impressive enough if he just makes it all the way into the house.]

[By some miracle, Constantin makes it up to the second story. It's getting from the trellis onto the balcony there that's the real challenge, and while his plan is to artfully swing one leg over and then the other and land soundly on his feet, in practice it's more like—

He drags himself up and finds himself sitting on the balcony, sways, and then stumbles when one foot gets caught as he tries to turn himself around. But he's there! He's alive! And none the worse for it, which is just as good.

He leans then over the balcony's edge, squinting in what little moonlight hits this side of the house down at his fussy companion, who has for some reason decided to stay and see him all the way up into the dark. That's a surprise - one that merits some confirmation that Constantin is in fact up here and alive, he thinks, as he doesn't suspect a thing about anyone having superb night vision.]

Well, brave sir, you have successfully returned one damsel to his palace tower! Take this handkerchief, as a token of my everlasting friendship!

[It's all for the drama, and it's one of his gloves he drops over the side of the balcony, not a handkerchief at all. His prop-based drama can be only so good at this hour, in this state.]

[Fussy is an apt descriptor for Liem as he follows the governor’s climb up the trellis, his nerves decidedly on edge despite the man’s confidence about this final step of his journey. He’s not quite fidgeting as he watches from the garden down below, but he certainly doesn’t look relaxed. Somehow, though, d’Orsay makes it all the way to the top and fumbles his way over the balcony railing onto solid ground. Only then does Liem allow himself a small sigh of relief.

Now it’s about time for him to make his exit. He’s spent half the night on this errand, but even if he’s missed his appointment, there will be other nights to attend that particular matter. He watches d’Orsay lean over the balcony’s edge, peering down at him through the thick darkness behind the manor in apparent surprise to see him still there. Hmm. Hopefully his reluctance to leave prematurely doesn’t come off as unsavoury interest―

What?]

Sir, that’s not―

[Before he can even form an objection, something is already dropping off the side of the balcony towards him. Liem catches it reflexively, easily identifying a well-made but somewhat dirt-stained leather glove. He just sort of looks at it for a second, possibly considering whether to just leave it quietly in a bush for d’Orsay’s groundskeepers to return to him later.

The creak of leather and the rattling of footfalls on stone interrupts his thoughts, however. Liem glances at the corner of the manor around which curious guards will be appearing at any moment, drawn by the muffled sound of voices in the dark. Past time to be gone. Casting one final look at the governor’s balcony, he takes off into the night, glove still in hand. By the time the guards round the rear of the manor, he is nowhere to be found.]

[It's been about a week and a half, which means it's been about a week and a half since Constantin woke up with a hangover strong enough to kill God and a black eye that drove his staff insane trying to cover up with powders and paints until it faded. It's one of the bruises that hasn't faded entirely, actually, but the vaguely greenish tint to the flesh around his eye isn't so overt that he has to be covered in makeup anymore.

Which is great, because he's certainly tired of being housebound. He's usually housebound, as it turns out, because his office and meeting room are just downstairs from his chambers and being the governor is terminally boring on the best of days. It's no exaggeration to say he's spent the greater part of his week and a half - really, the greater part of his time in the city - standing by the big window in his meeting room and desperately wishing he were out on the street. It drives his staff insane, it's definitely given his cousin an ulcer or two, but honestly! It's boring!

So, today he's going out! He'd insisted, his staff had insisted back, and he marched out of the manor anyway to "do inspections."

Or visit his favorite interesting corners of the city, but who's keeping track? He's out and that's what matters. There's only a single pair of guards following him, and at a distance because of his protests that he can take care of himself - like he hadn't just turned up a week and a half ago being recently beaten and supremely hungover. He's fine!

Still, he's having a good day. He stopped for lunch, which was honestly not very good but he pretended it was anyway, and he bought a hat with a feather in it that he fawned over for five minutes, much to the surprise of the shopkeeper... These are his official inspections.

It's as he wanders past a stall with a merchant shouting about their wares that he rounds a corner and his steps stutter to a halt upon seeing a... familiar face. Or at least, there's something familiar about the man coming down the street opposite him, and it takes him a moment, but oh—!]

Sir Talbott, what a surprise! I hadn't expected to see a familiar face out here— do tell me how you've been! I've been thinking about you, after your hasty exit the last time...

[Or he has been as of just now, when the hazy, drunk memory came back to him.]

[The middle of the day is never Liem’s favourite time to be up and about. He keeps his own schedule, so most of the time he’s up by sunrise and around this time he’s returned home to take a nice midday nap. Today, however, coffee is substituted for rest so he can meet with the proprietors of a lovely bakery in the process of expanding to a second location partway across town. He’s pleased with his findings―the location seems a good one and the owner of the business a woman of both competence and integrity. It’s important to him that his investments be sound, not just profitable. Personal wealth is all well and good, but coin is the lifeblood of a civilization. He likes to know that his isn’t being diverted into its gangrenous parts.

Still, he’s definitely beginning to flag by about early-afternoon. Even his sixth cup of coffee can’t save him from the cheerful yellow sunshine that floods the street, warming his coat and finding ways to reflect into his eyes despite the wide brim of his hat. He looks tired and wan as usual as he makes his way along the busy street, contemplating finding something to eat before heading home to the dark and quiet. Preferably something that isn’t festooned with fruit and confectioner’s sugar.

A familiar voice raised in greeting stops him in his tracks. Lovely day that it is, he’s wearing sunglasses―newly repaired―beneath the shade of his hat, but even so he squints against the glare to pick out the man standing just a few doors down the road. By all the gods, it really is the governor. What is he doing here?

Well, he’s been spotted now. Raising a hand in greeting, he crosses the remaining distance between them so he can say hello without needing to shout over the surrounding foot-traffic.]

Good afternoon, governor. Indeed, an unexpected pleasure.

[He wasn’t expecting to see d’Orsay again for at least another few weeks, when the whims of bureaucracy dictated he could finally meet him for a few brief moments. Really he doesn’t need more than a second to return the man’s “lost” item, but the staff were adamant; no one sees the governor without an appointment.]

I hope I haven't aggrieved you. I wouldn't like you to think I was in haste specifically to rid myself of your company.

[Ah— so formal! Constantin glances over his shoulder, but his guards are still just out of earshot - lucky! Imagine if he had to act like they'd never met to avoid guard gossip. Not that he will, ultimately, not really - but the thought counts.

So he turns fully to Liem and moves to put a hand on his shoulder and turn him back around the way he just came. Walk with him, specifically away from the people following him around.]

If you want the truth, my dear friend, I doubt I was thinking much at all! But what good fortune that we should meet while out and about like this! You weren't bothered on your way out of my courtyard, I hope.

[The most important thing to take away from this is one thing in particular: the governor is, in fact, always like this. Being drunk just adds to his disorderly conduct, not the bravado.]

Ah!— Did you enjoy the wine? I did have to take a wild swing at what might please your palate...

[It’ll be a cold day in hell before Liem greets any city official without at least some degree of formality― especially out on the street. What is he, a cultureless barbarian? Also, he wasn’t expecting to see the governor just now (or ever, really) and formality is his fallback when he doesn’t know what the hell is going on. Such as right now, as d’Orsay puts a hand on his shoulder and turns him back around so the two of them are now walking side-by-side down the street, back the way he had come. Hmm. Okay. This certainly is what’s happening now.]

Ah… Not at all. Actually, I’d say the rest of my night was uneventful compared to the events preceding it.

[As always on sunny days, his peripheral vision is for shit and he has to turn his head fully to glance at his companion without just catching nothing but glare. He looks a fair sight better than on their initial meeting, though his personality is none diminished. That’s good to see―he went to all that trouble to ensure his safe return home, after all.

And yes, about the wine…]

Truthfully, I haven’t had the occasion to dip into it. [He seems only slightly abashed to admit this.] It, ah, seems a lovely vintage, though. Thank you.

[He’s not scorning the gift, of course! But it’s been scarcely more than a week, and he doesn’t often drink alone. Or at all, actually. Perhaps he’ll get around to sampling it the next time there's a festival.]

Edited 2019-11-13 03:19 (UTC)

[A week alone is enough to try the wine! Constantin is not so much shocked as mildly surprised, but he still puts his free hand over his heart just a touch dramatically, like he can't believe his ears.]

My heart came so close to breaking I can hardly stand it— Sir Talbott, please promise me you'll enjoy my gift sooner rather than later! Even if you hate every drop of it in the end.

[Never before has "Sir" sounded so much like "oh you." He can't help himself, and the issue of the wine going untouched will... well, he's just fragile enough to insist, even if he does it like this.

Either way, it is a lovely day, and if his guards have wondered about the man their esteemed governor has decided is his new favored companion, they've stood back and kept their mouths rightfully shut about it. Constantin has no destination in mind - perhaps he'll pick a shop at random and steer them inside soon enough, but not yet - and for a moment he's content to walk along the cobblestone street and enjoy the way the sunshine seems to wipe away the dust and grime that naturally settles over any city's less affluent districts. Even the alley he banged his head against must look a little better in the sunlight. Truly, it is a wonderful day.

That said. After that nice day appreciation moment, he clears his throat, a touch sheepishly. That said...]

Did I... throw a glove at you, the last time we were together?

[Did that really happen? He's honestly not sure.]

highly new, slightly improved open post

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i realized i can just start scene 2 here so here it is: scene 2!!!!

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