pawnstorm | (CLOSED) it's a war dance

Who: Sion Astal & Aisha Clanclan
When: 06/05
Where: Caissa Center Plaza
What: Have a Drink! and related shennanigans.
Rating: PG?!

[ He'd taken her by the hand when word of the festival reached his ears, hardly needing Jaunne Cinna's request to offer the Lady a King's escort to the central plaza of the capital where the fair citizens of Caissa were sure to have congregated in celebration. Where he had once shied away from such things—how he had stood, distant and removed, when the color and merriment of First Bloom had decorated the city streets!—he is now only at play, light of heart and carefree as a summer's breeze which would carry all troubles up, up and away into the aether.

The aether which Sion seems to be considering intently now, for how he sorely wished for his wings here, in this moment...! ]

My Lady Aisha— [ His voice is (theatrically!) grave, his golden eyes falling shut for an instant when all seems to go still, and he can keenly feel the warmth of sunlight upon his face; the wind tousling his hair. ] —had I but known we would meet with our end in such a way, I would have insisted that we both bring a spare change of uniform.

[ Corralled at the fountain at the center of the plaza, they stand back to back, surrounded by a ring of water-gun toting robots and revelers. But even if there is only one future which might come to pass (and that is a thoroughly soaked-through, thoroughly sodden future!), Sion will rise to it, beckoning it forth with a beautiful, willful smile.

And it is this smile which is turned to Aisha as he glances back, over his shoulder, catching her eyes: ]

Then... shall we go out with a splash?

[ Perhaps they are not done just yet. There's a glint to his eye, and one last card up his (addmittedly already quite damp!) sleeve. ]

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Right now, Lady Aisha, what I am is heartened, free of doubt— [ And perhaps something close to being free, as well. ] —and more content than anyone has a right to be, especially when donning waterlogged clothes.

[ The melancholy is gone from his smile, then, and playfully, he brushes back a strand of the Lady's hair which threatens to fall and cling to her face in its thoroughly saturated state.

Thank you, he needn't say again, for the sentiment somehow resonates through their link of mana exchange. ]

Truly, though, you are most impressive. A wonder, for that to have been your very first spell.

[ A levitation which had taken even his breath away, despite how often he took to the skies with gold gilding his shoulders and wings of light at his back.

Teeeeasing: ] Why, have you been practicing without me all this while?

[She watches him dip in that moment, the sadness palpable in his expression, yet alone his mana. Wondering why was a natural response, but she figures it's not any of her business at the moment. Maybe a royalty thing... or just a Sion thing, who knew?

The moment passes, as moments do.]

We should have brought a change of clothes, now that I think about it. But as long as you're good Aisha's fine.

[More than, considering the praise. Aisha nuzzles into his skin before answering, pouting at the teasing tone. Just because she likes him doesn't mean he can think she's soft.]

If I'd known it was that cool Aisha would have learned it a long time ago. And maybe I have! A lady has to have her secrets, riiight?

[As if she wouldn't tell him if he asked.]

[ Lady Aisha? Soft? As surely as she is nestled against him, her breath warm against his skin as she huffs and pouts, Sion knows that Aisha is the farthest from such a thing. Tenacious as she is, he cannot imagine that she has not wholly given herself to the pursuit of becoming stronger—be it through the practice of magic or otherwise!—and as he had written to her in days past, he is quite sure that nothing is beyond her reach.

She's lifted him today, in more ways than one, and it is that very strength which will one day move mountains, and perhaps even the heavens above. ]

They are a Lady's greatest weapon, or so I am told. [ Secrets. A Lady's weapon and a King's curse. ] And you wield them aptly, holding them high overhead with maybes and might haves.

[ A hum upon his lips, he glances to her (coquettishly, though he fails to realize it), his body thrumming with their mana bonds, their closeness setting him at ease. This is a link forged without worry or care, a manifestation of happiness, and Sion finds himself unwilling to infringe upon it. ]

But if you should ever need another to practice with, do not hesitate to call upon me. [ He laughs, though the sound is quiet, gentled by his own repose. His head lays now upon the grass, and if his voice drifts in and out... Well, he is only tired. They have been out for quite some time, after all. ] Think of me as your whetstone, if you will.

[ Closing his eyes, his lashes fan silver against his cheeks. ]

Always, I will keep you sharp.

Aisha's a regular politician, huh? But I just do it cause it's fun.

[To tease him back, turnabout being the fairest sort of play. There is a delicacy in this, being willing to rest with someone without any concerns. Aisha hasn't learned that it isn't a weakness, not yet. But as the thought hasn't come to her mind, there's nothing to deny or push back against.

She glances back at him and... that expression is cute, wow.

It would be a much more jarring realization if she wasn't so cozy and warm.]

Yeah, 'd like that. You're good at that stuff so it'll be a good challenge. [He sounds sleepy. She is sleepy, and where she got her rest was never a problem to her. A hand cards through his hair absently, her own voice getting softer.] And in return, I'll...

[What could she do, here?]

Be here, whenever ya need me.

(CLOSED) it's a war dance

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