Cywyllog (
cywyllog) wrote in
milliways_bar2005-12-24 01:56 pm
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Miserable Welsh princess still inna main bar. She has, however, managed to move from the bar itself to a couch. Stairs, on the other hand, are out of the question.
She's either very hungover, or still drunk. Cywyllog doesn't really know, but she's not freezing anymore, so that's progress. Bother at will.
She's either very hungover, or still drunk. Cywyllog doesn't really know, but she's not freezing anymore, so that's progress. Bother at will.
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And really, shouldn't Cywyllog be at the top of that list?
"Madame?" He kneels in front of the couch to better look at her. It seems being forced to discuss his own issues has helped on some level.
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"Good morning. It is morning, yes?"
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"You smell like alcohol."
No the better time to get started.
"No. -Someone else." He mutters almost immediately, shaking his head again.
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"I drank wine." Because the alcohol part, she does understand.
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"Was there some reason, besides holiday celebration?" Yes, he is that naive, or at least self centered enough not to notice other peoples angst when he's got his own.
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"An entire cask, from the smell and look of things." He may be exaggerating, yes.
But he cannot really help the senses being better now.
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"I should have stayed outside."
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"And yes, it was very cold. There was a storm, too. I think I left my cloak where I was sitting on it." She sighs. "I will have to go get it later."
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He'd prefer to get drunk with Satan, clearly.
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He stands again and turns away, because he can't, wont bring himself to consider it until he must.
"Then perhaps that is a problem you should deal with. It is not wise."
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And as if to prove that point, he walks away.
May not be able to protect her, but if he avoids her, he wont be the one to break her.
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"There is nothing I need protection from."
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"Merry Christmas, Lady Cywyllog."
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"What is it?"
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"It is a Christmas present. And it is traditional for the person it is given to to find out what it is by opening it."
The package contains herbs and spices from her native world and country, as well as a candle infused with some of them. The final piece is a simply wrought rose of iron, a brooch, the kind of gift that courtiers of a certain station mioght give to someone of a higher station.
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"It is very beautiful. Why would you give this to me?"
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"I am new to this place and have met many here, but there are few who are from similar cultures as I. Even with the lack of overt magic in yours, your time and space is close to my own, so I wanted to show you are appreciated. One of those I know here told me of his holiday and so I decicded that this was a good way to express it."
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She smiles again, apologetcially. "I do not have anything to offer in return."
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"As it was explained to me, there needs not be an exchange. It is merely the joy one gains in giving. Such things are good, I think. I like this holiday."
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"Bar has several books on it, if you are curious. I hope that your day is filled with a sense of peace, Milady. By your leave."
He bows his head and prepares to go.
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