[ 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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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. ]