04-24-2018, 07:07 PM
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There was a flicker of surprise that snuck through his resolve, placing a delicate crack within his sour mood. He hadn't expect that, honestly -- few people recognized any subtle classics references he made. Sure, the Trojan Horse was a particularly popular one and thereby he'd wagered it'd be more recognizable, but this girl seemed to know. This wasn't simply passing acknowledgement of some vaguely familiar term. And she had a tongue on her, this one.
But she was also timid, in a way. He could see the way her posture tightened, read the discomfort and nervousness laced through her shoulders. Strange, with an aura that bright and radiant (it reminded him of liquid gold). And for some reason Bastille felt... ill at ease with her stiff response to him. Sure, he was a pretty apathetic person. He didn't really give a fuck about how people viewed him. But he wasn't exactly looking to terrify newcomers, per se -- much less young girls with bright auras and soft voices. She didn't deserve his harshness, as far as he could tell.
He relaxed slightly, a hint of a smirk shifting upwards as he drawled in response, his tone losing the rough edge to it, "Yeah, well, that's why we call it a poor interpretation." He arched a brow at her, gaze sliding over her in a more thorough examination as he checked for wounds or other ailments. She seemed fine, physically; whatever she was running from, it was a long time in her past, he wagered. "I take it you wouldn't make that mistake, though."
Bastille cast a glance over his shoulder towards Arion's bolting form, tracking the colt's aura when general eye-sight didn't do him any good. Quick, that one. When she spoke again, his gaze was back on her, and after a beat he too glanced at Suite and Margy. Gods, they probably were much sweeter with their approach to this foreign girl than he was. Bastille had a feeling that this shy, staring-at-the-ground behavior didn't start until his abrupt appearance, and he forced himself to relax more. He could practically feel the tense bundle of energy in his bones rebelling, screaming that he do something, go somewhere, find Luna, but he stamped it down viciously.
He took a breath, slowed his pulse, and met her stare head-on when she finally looked back up at him. "He'll be fine here," he said, referring to the colt. He sensed a sort of anxiety there, as if they might do something to her horse, and Bast felt a little bad that his demeanor might have given her that impression. "We're, uh, building an outer post to the Observatory soon," he supplied, after a brief glance at Margy, "So we can tack on a stall for him, or something. I don't know." There was a pause, as he stared at her, and then, "You can stay, too, obviously."
He really wanted to get out of there, away from this fragile girl, away from everyone; he wanted to run for Tanglewood territory and shake Beck until that damned fuck of a leader gave Luna back. He wanted to be somewhere that his shitty mood did no harm. Instead, he said slowly, "We can show you to the empty rooms for now. Someone can give you a tour if you want, or you can check out the maps and explore on your own." Another pause, and then he said wryly, "The colt can stay out here and run while we get you set up, if he wants. I'm pretty sure he might trample someone inside with that much energy."
[ ninja'd and well now this is awkward lmAO
too lazy to edit it so /shuffles the luna reference else where]
There was a flicker of surprise that snuck through his resolve, placing a delicate crack within his sour mood. He hadn't expect that, honestly -- few people recognized any subtle classics references he made. Sure, the Trojan Horse was a particularly popular one and thereby he'd wagered it'd be more recognizable, but this girl seemed to know. This wasn't simply passing acknowledgement of some vaguely familiar term. And she had a tongue on her, this one.
But she was also timid, in a way. He could see the way her posture tightened, read the discomfort and nervousness laced through her shoulders. Strange, with an aura that bright and radiant (it reminded him of liquid gold). And for some reason Bastille felt... ill at ease with her stiff response to him. Sure, he was a pretty apathetic person. He didn't really give a fuck about how people viewed him. But he wasn't exactly looking to terrify newcomers, per se -- much less young girls with bright auras and soft voices. She didn't deserve his harshness, as far as he could tell.
He relaxed slightly, a hint of a smirk shifting upwards as he drawled in response, his tone losing the rough edge to it, "Yeah, well, that's why we call it a poor interpretation." He arched a brow at her, gaze sliding over her in a more thorough examination as he checked for wounds or other ailments. She seemed fine, physically; whatever she was running from, it was a long time in her past, he wagered. "I take it you wouldn't make that mistake, though."
Bastille cast a glance over his shoulder towards Arion's bolting form, tracking the colt's aura when general eye-sight didn't do him any good. Quick, that one. When she spoke again, his gaze was back on her, and after a beat he too glanced at Suite and Margy. Gods, they probably were much sweeter with their approach to this foreign girl than he was. Bastille had a feeling that this shy, staring-at-the-ground behavior didn't start until his abrupt appearance, and he forced himself to relax more. He could practically feel the tense bundle of energy in his bones rebelling, screaming that he do something, go somewhere, find Luna, but he stamped it down viciously.
He took a breath, slowed his pulse, and met her stare head-on when she finally looked back up at him. "He'll be fine here," he said, referring to the colt. He sensed a sort of anxiety there, as if they might do something to her horse, and Bast felt a little bad that his demeanor might have given her that impression. "We're, uh, building an outer post to the Observatory soon," he supplied, after a brief glance at Margy, "So we can tack on a stall for him, or something. I don't know." There was a pause, as he stared at her, and then, "You can stay, too, obviously."
He really wanted to get out of there, away from this fragile girl, away from everyone; he wanted to run for Tanglewood territory and shake Beck until that damned fuck of a leader gave Luna back. He wanted to be somewhere that his shitty mood did no harm. Instead, he said slowly, "We can show you to the empty rooms for now. Someone can give you a tour if you want, or you can check out the maps and explore on your own." Another pause, and then he said wryly, "The colt can stay out here and run while we get you set up, if he wants. I'm pretty sure he might trample someone inside with that much energy."
[ ninja'd and well now this is awkward lmAO
too lazy to edit it so /shuffles the luna reference else where]
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]