[ 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. ]
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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. ]