Openeth

[le_desirous]

A mug of very hot coffee with a dash of pálinka; unashamedly modern garb--jeans and a turtleneck sweater and a knit scarf; and a seat on the railing of the porch, one leg curled around a white-painted rail to keep his balance; and Sagramore is well-prepared to take what the world is inevitably going to throw at him. It always does.

Comments

[russet_goddess]

Zara doesn't even look at him when she goes by, having come to the Mansion for some thing or other that she needed.

[le_desirous]

He unhooks himself and jumps down softly, approaching her quietly from the side.

"Zara," though it is not instinctive to call a lady by her name rather than a title.

[russet_goddess]

"The hell, don't call me that," still not looking at him.

[le_desirous]

"I beg your pardon. I imagine that Mordred vouching for me did little to recommend me to you the other day."

[russet_goddess]

"Ent nothing you can do's going to recommend you."

[le_desirous]

"Ah, well."

[russet_goddess]

"What d'you want?" suspiciously.

[le_desirous]

"Goodwill. To commiserate."

[russet_goddess]

"Good for you. Ent getting it from me." But she eyes him at the second part. "Commiserate what?"

[le_desirous]

"Unreturned affections. Besides which, Agravain is a pig."

[russet_goddess]

"Not your business."

[le_desirous]

"I know. I do know. But if you don't want to sleep alone--if that's the only reason--then you could surely do better. I only offer--"

[russet_goddess]

Zara looks at him, scowls at him, and summarily strikes him. "Not your business!"

[le_desirous]

He maintains his quiet, nonthreatening position, though he does wince and half-smile the pain upon being hit.

"He doesn't love either of us, lady. He wants us both a little but won't have us. Sometimes adding the difference helps."

[russet_goddess]

"You'd know," viciously.

[le_desirous]

"Yes, I would."