milliways_bar | (no subject)

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delia of eldorne

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[Delia is curled up in a booth, with a bottle of wine, sulking about the tab issue. Only, Eldornes Do Not Sulk, so maybe she's 'brooding'. Although, that isn't a very feminine word, so maybe...]

[Delia is Sulking, and trying to wrestle with her noble's pride at the same time. It's not really working, as Eldorne pride is both canonical and a bitch to deal with. But, to her credit, she is trying.]

[ooc: mun is doing uni work, so replies will be somewhat slow]

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[she glances at him]

"My soul is indentured to the management of Hell, for the duration of my time here in Milliways."

[her green eyes widen]

Is...is that wise?

"I read the contract extremely carefully." He seems unfazed by the possibilty that he might have done something REALLY REALLY STUPID, although his mun is entirely convinced he is stark, staring, mad.

Even the small print?

"Even the small print," he nods. "Every word. I am guaranteed the return of my soul, untarnished, upon the occasion of my exit from the Bar."

[she still looks worried.]

"I can take care of my brother, should he need or allow me to, and thee, and the Lady Josiane, should she be in need of aid." He shrugs. "There is lettle else of import."

Josiane...same boat as I, though not as a large a table. [she hesitates, and then leans forward to kiss him lightly]

Thank you.

The kiss is returned with a perhaps suprising degree of affection - not passion, or pawing, but sweetness. It would seem the loss of his soul has not taken everything away. "Thou art most welcome.

[she moves back, then, just a litle bit]

[she smiles at him again, and bites her bottom lip]

He smiles back, and nods. "See? I am the same Valentine."

And that's a good thing.

He smiles. "I am glad that you think so."

[he just gets a grin at that]

"Thou art an evil, heartless wench, Delia." His answring grin takes any sting out of the words that might have been missed by his bantering tone.

Ah, but of course!

"But art so beautiful, that I forgive thee."

Mmmmm [she smiles]

"You know it's true," he doesn't quite leer. But he comes close. It would appear that his scruples disappeared along with his soul, for he would never have spoken in such a fashion to a lady before.

Normally I am called 'lovely', not beautiful.

"That also," he agrees.

So, what about you? What are your normal compliaments?

He muses for a moment. "People rarely compliment me."

Well. That's a shame.