emilian+olinda; cake battle
Who: Emilian & Olinda
When: Saturday night, during the ball
Where: Myron's estate
Ratings and Warnings: G!
Escorting the royal family to masques was always easier than other parties. They seemed to like the chance at anonymity and allowed the guard a longer leash in kind. He kept one eye on his King as he milled around, ears open for familiar voices or heads of hair. He'd already danced with a fair amount of ladies - including Sevda, bless her adorable little heart - and terrorised certain douchey lordlings. If he didn't find anything else to do soon, the night would be a wash for him.
His nose twitched as someone passed by with a small plate of cake. The sugary smell made his stomach growl. He'd seen it earlier and decided he didn't like it for some reason or another, but now he decided he did and he wanted some. Taller than the average Tyrolian, Emilian had no problem seeing over most heads to where the food was laid out. There appeared to be very few pieces of cake left. Challenge accepted, he ducked his head and weaved in the cake's direction, glancing back towards Ishmael every few steps.
Olinda was having a ball -- correction, Olinda had been having a ball until she had swept Ermesinda up into a dance, only to step on the poor girl's shoeless feet. The screech had been impossible to ignore, and despite her efforts to soothe the witch girl, Olinda had failed. Naturally, the level of guilt she felt was quite high. How could she make it up to her?
As if on cue, the crowd parted, allowing her a temporary view of the open delicacies table. There was cake, not one she had tried, but only a few slices left. Perhaps if she were to bring one back for Ermesinda, the girl would forgive her. Yes, it was worth a shot! Goal in mind, Olinda made a beeline towards the table, oblivious to the incoming lion-man. Just a few...more...steps...!
Emilian hardly noticed the incoming unicorn either - until he as nearly impale by her horn. He stopped short of being stabbed, a hand going out to catch her shoulder before he took it in the chest. He recognised the costume easily. The girl had stepped on his toes and almost stabbed him numerous times when they'd danced, too, but he was kind enough about it. Noble or Other alike, they all seemed to suck at appropriate costume choices. His own had been an eastern assassin get up, very appropriate for a guard. In his opinion.
"Watch yourself," he mumbled, eyes darting away from her to find Ishmael again. His King was still intact. Now, cake.. turning back to the table, he was surprised to find that others had been by to snatch up the last few pieces until their was only one remaining. He glanced sidelong at Olinda. She hadn't been here to get some too, had she..?
The almost collision caused Olinda to direct her sight away from the target and onto the unintentional one. "Ah!" The assassin man. She had to ask what he was, having no knowledge of the East aside from whatever medicinal studies the Hour had acquired from there. "I'm sorry, I hadn't seen you at all!" Obviously.
She followed his turn, then gasped in dismay at what she saw. Oh no, only one cake left! If she didn't hurry, someone else would snatch it up and she'd have no gift for Ermesinda. Mission objective renewed, Olinda dipped her head in farewell to the assassin lion-man and hurried to the table. Those in front of her quickly cleared the way, not at all keen on having a fake unicorn's horn in their face.
Ah, so she was going after the cake as well. He shifted to let her pass without being stabbed again, considering the merits of tripping her.. but there might be bloodshed on the way down with that ridiculous horn. Emilian trailed after her casually, eyes on the prize. Of course, now that someone else wanted it, he really wanted cake. Covering his mouth with a light cough, he stepped on the train of her dress instead and turned to glare at the nearest male he saw when he heard and felt stitches rip. "Rude of you, really."
Distraction in place, he made to dart around her! So close!
"Wah-!" Her footing was precarious for a few seconds with the hold and release of pressure from behind, but Olinda managed to look back at the cause without falling over as Emilian passed on by. First, she saw the face of an innocent man who looked, despite his mask, confused and off-guard. Following his gaze, she saw the torn piece of the white dress Amelia had lent her. Her jaw dropped open in another bout of dismay.
The man, fearing the possible wrath of a woman (though he had no idea that Olinda wouldn't yell at him, merely look like a kicked puppy), shook his head and pointed at Emilian's back before quickly making an exit. "Oh, shoot!" Scooping up the train material, she scrambled after him. In her haste, her horn connected with his torso.
That hurt. He let out a yelp of surprise, jerking away from the offending object. His first thought had been a knife, but when he looked and saw Olinda's horn he only frowned. Her determination would have been endearing if if she wasn't standing between him and sugar. He grabbed her horn to steady her (and put himself between her and the table).
"You're going to hurt someone soon," he snapped with a frown, finally releasing her. "Watch it."
"Oh, I'm so, so sorry!" she cried, jerking her head back in reflex, resulting in a sharp pull as Emilian still had a grip on it before releasing. She looked up at him, then tried to peek around him, then looked up at him again. "I'm trying to get a piece of cake, you see, for a friend that I've upset. There's only one left..."
A likely sob story he thought, one hand going to her horn again to tilt it out of the path of important things like skin and his jugular as she spoke. "What did you do to upset her?"
Completely oblivious to his precautionary measures, she answered, somewhat sheepishly, "I don't know how to dance properly and I'm not good on my feet... I ended up stepping on her toes and upsetting her dearly." It seemed to be more of a trouble when she actually voiced the predicament out loud. Olinda laced her fingers together, glancing at the floor in worry. "She always seems to be bothered by something and I went and ruined her night of fun! She doesn't get many nice things, so I thought-- maybe a slice of cake would be nice..."
A likely story. His brows flattened as she spoke. She looked genuinely contrite and embarrassed.. much like every other woman he'd ever known. They were slick as foxes about getting what they wanted. "Unfortunate, since I got here first." He flicked her horn away with a small smile and reached behind him until he felt the plate. "Go look somewhere else."
"Ah--!" Nope, he got the plate first. She lifted her mask up just to make sure there wasn't another slice of cake hiding somewhere behind the first. No, that had been the sole survivor. Expression on full force kicked puppy, Olinda looked up at Emilian and tried again. "Please, sir, won't you spare the cake for her?"
Even as she made her plea, the thought of knocking him with the false unicorn horn crossed her mind, but she brushed it off quickly. Not only was that mean and unfair, but it was potentially dangerous. What if she got his eye?
He didn't even know her, why was she breaking out such big guns? His expression went sour as he narrowed an eye at her critically. With the Princesses, it was different. He was paid to deny them everything but what the King (thought usually, Duchess) wanted. Random acts of puppyfacing from strange horned girls, however, was tough to deny.
Plate now in hand he brought it in front of him. It smelled delicious even now. He took someone bumping into him as a cue to fake a sneeze down at his hands, then raised an eyebrow in her direction. "Still want it?" He had cooties.
Olinda visibly cringed at the sneeze. The cake was ruined now. She couldn't give it to Ermesinda in good faith. Her shoulders slumped as a small sigh escaped her lips, gaze of the utmost sadness. "No, nevermind. Sorry to bother you."
She turned to leave the scene. Well, that was that. She'd simply have to find some other way to make it up to the little witch. Candied spiders, perhaps?
For Cita's sake--
He grabbed at her shoulder with enough weight to spin her, sighing. Loudly. Heavily. As if it was apparent this was a bother to him and oh-so-difficult to be kind. "Didn't really sneeze," he said quietly, but clearly enough that he was sure he wouldn't have to repeat it again. "Is half enough for your friend?"
The spin elicited a small squeak from her, but then he was saying something so she didn't have time to think about it, focusing on what his words instead. "Ah..." He was offering to split it? To share? Hadn't really sneezed on it, really?
Her eyes lit up. "Yes, half is good!" Was he really going to? Oh, how kind! She ducked out of his grip to grab a plate and present it to him, hopeful.
Why was he doing this? He was a Sergeant in the Guard, a Court guard at that.. and he here he was, splitting cake with a unicorn girl because she'd pouted at him. His brows were flat as he divided it with a fork - even taking care to make the pieces even - and nudged half onto her plate. Emilian sighed again through his nose and nodded over his shoulder, pointing with his eyes that she should vamoose.
She watched with a growing smile, until it was a full on grin by the time he nudged that half of the cake onto her plate. "Thank you so, so much! You're too kind!" She almost made to curtsey, then caught herself -- wouldn't do to poke him with the horn again, not after his act of generosity. She opted to thank him once more before vamoosing off to find Ermesinda.
When: Saturday night, during the ball
Where: Myron's estate
Ratings and Warnings: G!
Escorting the royal family to masques was always easier than other parties. They seemed to like the chance at anonymity and allowed the guard a longer leash in kind. He kept one eye on his King as he milled around, ears open for familiar voices or heads of hair. He'd already danced with a fair amount of ladies - including Sevda, bless her adorable little heart - and terrorised certain douchey lordlings. If he didn't find anything else to do soon, the night would be a wash for him.
His nose twitched as someone passed by with a small plate of cake. The sugary smell made his stomach growl. He'd seen it earlier and decided he didn't like it for some reason or another, but now he decided he did and he wanted some. Taller than the average Tyrolian, Emilian had no problem seeing over most heads to where the food was laid out. There appeared to be very few pieces of cake left. Challenge accepted, he ducked his head and weaved in the cake's direction, glancing back towards Ishmael every few steps.
Olinda was having a ball -- correction, Olinda had been having a ball until she had swept Ermesinda up into a dance, only to step on the poor girl's shoeless feet. The screech had been impossible to ignore, and despite her efforts to soothe the witch girl, Olinda had failed. Naturally, the level of guilt she felt was quite high. How could she make it up to her?
As if on cue, the crowd parted, allowing her a temporary view of the open delicacies table. There was cake, not one she had tried, but only a few slices left. Perhaps if she were to bring one back for Ermesinda, the girl would forgive her. Yes, it was worth a shot! Goal in mind, Olinda made a beeline towards the table, oblivious to the incoming lion-man. Just a few...more...steps...!
Emilian hardly noticed the incoming unicorn either - until he as nearly impale by her horn. He stopped short of being stabbed, a hand going out to catch her shoulder before he took it in the chest. He recognised the costume easily. The girl had stepped on his toes and almost stabbed him numerous times when they'd danced, too, but he was kind enough about it. Noble or Other alike, they all seemed to suck at appropriate costume choices. His own had been an eastern assassin get up, very appropriate for a guard. In his opinion.
"Watch yourself," he mumbled, eyes darting away from her to find Ishmael again. His King was still intact. Now, cake.. turning back to the table, he was surprised to find that others had been by to snatch up the last few pieces until their was only one remaining. He glanced sidelong at Olinda. She hadn't been here to get some too, had she..?
The almost collision caused Olinda to direct her sight away from the target and onto the unintentional one. "Ah!" The assassin man. She had to ask what he was, having no knowledge of the East aside from whatever medicinal studies the Hour had acquired from there. "I'm sorry, I hadn't seen you at all!" Obviously.
She followed his turn, then gasped in dismay at what she saw. Oh no, only one cake left! If she didn't hurry, someone else would snatch it up and she'd have no gift for Ermesinda. Mission objective renewed, Olinda dipped her head in farewell to the assassin lion-man and hurried to the table. Those in front of her quickly cleared the way, not at all keen on having a fake unicorn's horn in their face.
Ah, so she was going after the cake as well. He shifted to let her pass without being stabbed again, considering the merits of tripping her.. but there might be bloodshed on the way down with that ridiculous horn. Emilian trailed after her casually, eyes on the prize. Of course, now that someone else wanted it, he really wanted cake. Covering his mouth with a light cough, he stepped on the train of her dress instead and turned to glare at the nearest male he saw when he heard and felt stitches rip. "Rude of you, really."
Distraction in place, he made to dart around her! So close!
"Wah-!" Her footing was precarious for a few seconds with the hold and release of pressure from behind, but Olinda managed to look back at the cause without falling over as Emilian passed on by. First, she saw the face of an innocent man who looked, despite his mask, confused and off-guard. Following his gaze, she saw the torn piece of the white dress Amelia had lent her. Her jaw dropped open in another bout of dismay.
The man, fearing the possible wrath of a woman (though he had no idea that Olinda wouldn't yell at him, merely look like a kicked puppy), shook his head and pointed at Emilian's back before quickly making an exit. "Oh, shoot!" Scooping up the train material, she scrambled after him. In her haste, her horn connected with his torso.
That hurt. He let out a yelp of surprise, jerking away from the offending object. His first thought had been a knife, but when he looked and saw Olinda's horn he only frowned. Her determination would have been endearing if if she wasn't standing between him and sugar. He grabbed her horn to steady her (and put himself between her and the table).
"You're going to hurt someone soon," he snapped with a frown, finally releasing her. "Watch it."
"Oh, I'm so, so sorry!" she cried, jerking her head back in reflex, resulting in a sharp pull as Emilian still had a grip on it before releasing. She looked up at him, then tried to peek around him, then looked up at him again. "I'm trying to get a piece of cake, you see, for a friend that I've upset. There's only one left..."
A likely sob story he thought, one hand going to her horn again to tilt it out of the path of important things like skin and his jugular as she spoke. "What did you do to upset her?"
Completely oblivious to his precautionary measures, she answered, somewhat sheepishly, "I don't know how to dance properly and I'm not good on my feet... I ended up stepping on her toes and upsetting her dearly." It seemed to be more of a trouble when she actually voiced the predicament out loud. Olinda laced her fingers together, glancing at the floor in worry. "She always seems to be bothered by something and I went and ruined her night of fun! She doesn't get many nice things, so I thought-- maybe a slice of cake would be nice..."
A likely story. His brows flattened as she spoke. She looked genuinely contrite and embarrassed.. much like every other woman he'd ever known. They were slick as foxes about getting what they wanted. "Unfortunate, since I got here first." He flicked her horn away with a small smile and reached behind him until he felt the plate. "Go look somewhere else."
"Ah--!" Nope, he got the plate first. She lifted her mask up just to make sure there wasn't another slice of cake hiding somewhere behind the first. No, that had been the sole survivor. Expression on full force kicked puppy, Olinda looked up at Emilian and tried again. "Please, sir, won't you spare the cake for her?"
Even as she made her plea, the thought of knocking him with the false unicorn horn crossed her mind, but she brushed it off quickly. Not only was that mean and unfair, but it was potentially dangerous. What if she got his eye?
He didn't even know her, why was she breaking out such big guns? His expression went sour as he narrowed an eye at her critically. With the Princesses, it was different. He was paid to deny them everything but what the King (thought usually, Duchess) wanted. Random acts of puppyfacing from strange horned girls, however, was tough to deny.
Plate now in hand he brought it in front of him. It smelled delicious even now. He took someone bumping into him as a cue to fake a sneeze down at his hands, then raised an eyebrow in her direction. "Still want it?" He had cooties.
Olinda visibly cringed at the sneeze. The cake was ruined now. She couldn't give it to Ermesinda in good faith. Her shoulders slumped as a small sigh escaped her lips, gaze of the utmost sadness. "No, nevermind. Sorry to bother you."
She turned to leave the scene. Well, that was that. She'd simply have to find some other way to make it up to the little witch. Candied spiders, perhaps?
For Cita's sake--
He grabbed at her shoulder with enough weight to spin her, sighing. Loudly. Heavily. As if it was apparent this was a bother to him and oh-so-difficult to be kind. "Didn't really sneeze," he said quietly, but clearly enough that he was sure he wouldn't have to repeat it again. "Is half enough for your friend?"
The spin elicited a small squeak from her, but then he was saying something so she didn't have time to think about it, focusing on what his words instead. "Ah..." He was offering to split it? To share? Hadn't really sneezed on it, really?
Her eyes lit up. "Yes, half is good!" Was he really going to? Oh, how kind! She ducked out of his grip to grab a plate and present it to him, hopeful.
Why was he doing this? He was a Sergeant in the Guard, a Court guard at that.. and he here he was, splitting cake with a unicorn girl because she'd pouted at him. His brows were flat as he divided it with a fork - even taking care to make the pieces even - and nudged half onto her plate. Emilian sighed again through his nose and nodded over his shoulder, pointing with his eyes that she should vamoose.
She watched with a growing smile, until it was a full on grin by the time he nudged that half of the cake onto her plate. "Thank you so, so much! You're too kind!" She almost made to curtsey, then caught herself -- wouldn't do to poke him with the horn again, not after his act of generosity. She opted to thank him once more before vamoosing off to find Ermesinda.