My hero, [ Lune says, with a flicker of rare playfulness.
And there’s a brief pause where she considers: is there any way the Academy might need to use her for an official concert? Could it be helpful for boosting recruitment in any way? But, no. It’s not like any of her civilian fans would go, I love Lune’s music, let’s go sign up for the expedition that’ll kill her.
Her stomach clenches. More unexpected nerves wringing her out whenever she accidentally remembers what’s lying ahead, as if it’s a giant ticking clock hovering behind her shoulder. She takes a more aggressive swig of her wine, trying to banish it, at least for this one evening. ]
You’re much better with people, [ she points out, abruptly. ] Strangers, adults, children, they all love you.
[ Lune doesn't need anyone's noble intervention, of course. She could easily (if not happily) drive them off with a look, or a word. Polite and calculated conversation, a witty jab if needed. Of course, in the most dire of cases, she's a talented mage who can just burn or freeze or zap them away.
It's why Sciel made the offer: an offer in gesture alone, as the woman she'd made it to has no need of it.
Lune has need of something, apparently, as she downs a large swig of the wine. Sciel watches this, taking a thoughtful sip of her own as she does...before joining Lune in a choice that escalates further as she downs the glass.
This is Sciel, though. So it's just another ordinary night. ]
"Strangers love me?" [ She repeats, and it draws out a good-natured, though bemused laugh. ] They can't love me, mon amie, if they don't know me. [ Sciel understands what the other woman is getting at, though, and tilts her head as she looks out over the room. ] ...I like people. I...feel energized when I'm with them, most of the time. Everyone's so different, and they all have interesting stories to tell. Sometimes you do have to scratch at the surface a little to get at the good bits, but they're always there somewhere.
[ A classic extrovert, though she knows it isn't as easy for everyone to share her perspective.
When she returns her attention to the woman at her side, her smile is...fond. Almost discerning. ]
[ Her nose crinkles a little in thought, at that description of being energised around other people. It’s never been her own experience. A very chosen select few, yes, but usually only one or two at a time; Lune didn’t mind being around Tristan or Gustave or Sciel, but it was a fairly small and limited list. (Or her siblings, but, well. That’s irrelevant now.)
But at Sciel’s question, Lune shoots a glance over, surveying the other woman over the edge of her wine. Her lips pressed thoughtfully against the rim of the drink, before she lowers it and asks, curious, ]
What?
[ She’ll wait to hear Sciel’s theory before she attempts to refute it. ]
[ She might usually opt for a joke. Either the biased, yet hyperbolic "everything" or the fondly-teasing "your sunny disposition." But right now, she catches the way that Lune looks at her with dubious interest, those sharp eyes almost softened in curiosity, and Sciel can't help but opt for the something...completely earnest. ]
Well... [ Her glass is empty but she seems to forget that for a moment as she raises it to her lips, maybe to give herself more time to get the words together, but...finding it drained, she scoffs and lowers it. ] ...And don't laugh, because it sounds a little silly, but they-...we love your light. I know — [ Sciel flaps her free hand to dismiss any initial rejection of the initial cliché. ] But I do mean it. The way you get when you're talking about something you care about, or you're curious about, or that you're frustrated with, even. [ There's a breathy laugh as she turns her eyes back to the woman at her side, head ducked slightly as she does. ] You're brilliantly bright, and those lucky enough to hear what you've got to say feel it. That passion, that intensity...it intimidates some people, sure, but that just shows how strong those feelings are. And for the rest, we get to bask in them.
[ She's probably not being perfectly articulate, but that's okay. Things like this are difficult to put to words, and though it's hardly the first time this has occurred to her, Sciel hasn't needed to make it make sense to anyone before. ]
It's the same when you're playing music. [ She continues, glancing toward the performers in the room. ] You might not be gushing about some new revelation you've had about a dusty old Expedition, but it still comes through even when you're not saying anything at all. That quiet concentration and the love you've got for it is like...lying outside in the grass on a sunny afternoon. It just warms you all the way through.
[ This has probably gone on enough. Sciel, looking perfectly unembarrassed, shrugs. ]
[ Sciel might not be embarrassed but so Lune, like a black hole, can absorb all of that embarrassment for the both of them. She can feel her cheeks and the tips of her ears heating in a blush. She wishes she could blame the wine, but it’s only been one glass, versus the squirming queasy warmth of having been so seen, and noticed, and complimented.
She’d expected something short and pithy. A quick summary, maybe. So when Sciel keeps going, and keeps going, her mild mortification grows. It’s all so lovely to hear, but she isn’t accustomed to hearing an assessment which doesn’t involve academic grades, a professional report, marks of her performance in the lab.
So she drains the rest of her drink. Obviously a little sheepish, a little thrown: ]
Alright. No, I didn’t know. Um. Thank you.
[ She clears her throat, lost for words for once, unsure how in the world she follows up on that.
[ The reaction earns Lune a huge grin in return, alongside a gentle laugh. ]
I'm going to let that...breathe a bit, and get another glass. [ She needs a refill, after all, and it gives her fellow Expeditioner a chance to shrug off of the laurels Sciel had laid on her shoulders to whatever degree she prefers. ] Anything you need? Oh — and if anyone approaches, give them the look. You know, the — [ And here she half-turns, adopting a colder, pointed look that can only be a loving exaggeration of the woman at her side. ] that one. And they'll hurry right off, I guarantee it.
[ After getting Lune's order, if any, Sciel leaves her with a wink before maneuvering to the nearest table, where the bottles are nestled in buckets of ice. She doesn't for a moment analyse within herself why she'd gone and rambled about some of the many things she adores in Lune, because she isn't the type to do so, though there is a furtive glance back in the mage's direction as she selects between white and red (eventually opting for another red). And maybe there's a tiny voice that suggests those sorts of things are better offered up after more than just a single drink.
But, no. That little voice is in the minority, and Sciel reaffirms within herself that she is perfectly comfortable hyping her friends up at any level of sobriety. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
And there’s a brief pause where she considers: is there any way the Academy might need to use her for an official concert? Could it be helpful for boosting recruitment in any way? But, no. It’s not like any of her civilian fans would go, I love Lune’s music, let’s go sign up for the expedition that’ll kill her.
Her stomach clenches. More unexpected nerves wringing her out whenever she accidentally remembers what’s lying ahead, as if it’s a giant ticking clock hovering behind her shoulder. She takes a more aggressive swig of her wine, trying to banish it, at least for this one evening. ]
You’re much better with people, [ she points out, abruptly. ] Strangers, adults, children, they all love you.
no subject
It's why Sciel made the offer: an offer in gesture alone, as the woman she'd made it to has no need of it.
Lune has need of something, apparently, as she downs a large swig of the wine. Sciel watches this, taking a thoughtful sip of her own as she does...before joining Lune in a choice that escalates further as she downs the glass.
This is Sciel, though. So it's just another ordinary night. ]
"Strangers love me?" [ She repeats, and it draws out a good-natured, though bemused laugh. ] They can't love me, mon amie, if they don't know me. [ Sciel understands what the other woman is getting at, though, and tilts her head as she looks out over the room. ] ...I like people. I...feel energized when I'm with them, most of the time. Everyone's so different, and they all have interesting stories to tell. Sometimes you do have to scratch at the surface a little to get at the good bits, but they're always there somewhere.
[ A classic extrovert, though she knows it isn't as easy for everyone to share her perspective.
When she returns her attention to the woman at her side, her smile is...fond. Almost discerning. ]
You know what people love about you?
no subject
But at Sciel’s question, Lune shoots a glance over, surveying the other woman over the edge of her wine. Her lips pressed thoughtfully against the rim of the drink, before she lowers it and asks, curious, ]
What?
[ She’ll wait to hear Sciel’s theory before she attempts to refute it. ]
no subject
Well... [ Her glass is empty but she seems to forget that for a moment as she raises it to her lips, maybe to give herself more time to get the words together, but...finding it drained, she scoffs and lowers it. ] ...And don't laugh, because it sounds a little silly, but they-...we love your light. I know — [ Sciel flaps her free hand to dismiss any initial rejection of the initial cliché. ] But I do mean it. The way you get when you're talking about something you care about, or you're curious about, or that you're frustrated with, even. [ There's a breathy laugh as she turns her eyes back to the woman at her side, head ducked slightly as she does. ] You're brilliantly bright, and those lucky enough to hear what you've got to say feel it. That passion, that intensity...it intimidates some people, sure, but that just shows how strong those feelings are. And for the rest, we get to bask in them.
[ She's probably not being perfectly articulate, but that's okay. Things like this are difficult to put to words, and though it's hardly the first time this has occurred to her, Sciel hasn't needed to make it make sense to anyone before. ]
It's the same when you're playing music. [ She continues, glancing toward the performers in the room. ] You might not be gushing about some new revelation you've had about a dusty old Expedition, but it still comes through even when you're not saying anything at all. That quiet concentration and the love you've got for it is like...lying outside in the grass on a sunny afternoon. It just warms you all the way through.
[ This has probably gone on enough. Sciel, looking perfectly unembarrassed, shrugs. ]
Anyway...
no subject
She’d expected something short and pithy. A quick summary, maybe. So when Sciel keeps going, and keeps going, her mild mortification grows. It’s all so lovely to hear, but she isn’t accustomed to hearing an assessment which doesn’t involve academic grades, a professional report, marks of her performance in the lab.
So she drains the rest of her drink. Obviously a little sheepish, a little thrown: ]
Alright. No, I didn’t know. Um. Thank you.
[ She clears her throat, lost for words for once, unsure how in the world she follows up on that.
(Sciel used Earnestness! It’s super effective!) ]
no subject
I'm going to let that...breathe a bit, and get another glass. [ She needs a refill, after all, and it gives her fellow Expeditioner a chance to shrug off of the laurels Sciel had laid on her shoulders to whatever degree she prefers. ] Anything you need? Oh — and if anyone approaches, give them the look. You know, the — [ And here she half-turns, adopting a colder, pointed look that can only be a loving exaggeration of the woman at her side. ] that one. And they'll hurry right off, I guarantee it.
[ After getting Lune's order, if any, Sciel leaves her with a wink before maneuvering to the nearest table, where the bottles are nestled in buckets of ice. She doesn't for a moment analyse within herself why she'd gone and rambled about some of the many things she adores in Lune, because she isn't the type to do so, though there is a furtive glance back in the mage's direction as she selects between white and red (eventually opting for another red). And maybe there's a tiny voice that suggests those sorts of things are better offered up after more than just a single drink.
But, no. That little voice is in the minority, and Sciel reaffirms within herself that she is perfectly comfortable hyping her friends up at any level of sobriety. ]