Open Log

[wellsuited]

Who: EVERYONE. Seriously, everyone.
When: Forward-dated to tomorrow night.
Where: A large building that had once been damaged, but has now been repaired. (Directions provided to anyone who needed them.)
Format: Action, paragraph, multiple threads, past, present. AKA whatever you'd like.
What: A little party to mix business and pleasure.
Warnings:

Comments

[sonvisage]

[She's not even sure what she's doing here. Sullen, somehow tired and very restless, she moves through the crowd. She might be glaring as she does. It's hard to tell with all that hair.

But there's music, and the opportunity to hear things she probably wouldn't otherwise. It's enough to at least draw her out for a little while. That and a new red dress.

But she doesn't plan on staying.]

[malfattore]

{And oh, he saw that dress two miles away, following the sliver of color in and around crowds before finally creeping close enough for words. There was something about that sashay, that walk.}

You've certainly made yourself noticeable.

{Sidling up next to her, he tilts his head in gesture to her attire, hands folded behind his back in a relaxed, non-threatening stance.}

So what do you think of these affairs? Mm? You don't look impressed.

I assure you, I'm not.

[sonvisage]

[She turns, tilting her head as she takes in his attire - the mask in particular - and arcs a brow at his comment. Huffs in what little amusement she can afford.]

Have I? I hadn't noticed. [Second nature, and she really hadn't ...for once.] But you. You blend in perfectly. If you hadn't spoken I'm not sure I would have known you were there at all. [With your closeness. And that mask.]

I adore them, usually.

Just not today. [Was that box charming music from her own head, now? Yes, it very possibly was, unless someone else here was thinking of this song (which had been given to her earlier via this post).]

Would you be more or less impressed if you were dancing?

Do you dance?

[And the word dance comes out sounding all wrong, as it often does. A little suggestive, perhaps? Also a little bitter. Distant.]

[malfattore]

{Is she serious? It was hard to tell at times, with this one. There was a venom in her-- this, he discovered quite early on. Not something he bristled at, mind you.}

I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not, bella. Didn't mean to sneak up quite like that. {Uh. This time.} But no, you look splendid. {At least she's covered.}

{He sighs, glancing about at others filtering in from the door, faces he sort of knows but mostly doesn't milling around in their respective cliques. Arms folded across his chest, unconsciously on the defensive now, at her question, the music reaches him. Definitely not something he's used to.}

Eh. I can, but I doubt Firenze dances are the same as what people do here. There's an aristocracy to it. What plays now... this piece. It's odd. {In a good way, he thinks. Different.}

I doubt one could dance to it, though. Perhaps you should try. I'll tell you if it works.

[sonvisage]

Take it however you wish.

[She'll spread that smile into something a little less barbed at the flattery, but she's phoning it in. Her thoughts are elsewhere, and in truth, she feels like tearing something to pieces. She's just not sure what. (Or who.

A slight spin - skirts fanning out and brushing - personal space invasion y way of red leather? Alrighty then! Swaying very slightly on her feet.]

The man? He lived, by the way. Someone did get the blood back in. Imagine that.

[A sharper smile, edged with the frustration of not being able to see his expression.]

Must you always wear that mask? Is it customary? In ...Firenze? [Scanning the crowd. Makes a face when she spots Riza - something akin to a wince. Almost an eyeroll.]

[malfattore]

{He leans back, watching her go about. The dress... well, yes, it's attractive. Modest, but still feminine. Too bad the filler was, at times, such a little wretch.}

Is that not what I said would work? No blood, death. Blood, potential to live. I merely couldn't offer it at the time. How pleasant for the fellow to see another day. {No animosity there, no trace of sarcasm. For whatever reason, he meant it.}

{Exaggerating a sigh, he reaches to his jaw, tugging down the mouth of his cowl and tucking it under his chin. Such was all the coverage he really had for what the half-mask didn't reach.}

I wear it for my occupation. After so many years, it simply becomes routine.

{There, she got a portion of face, accompanied by a "happy now?" grin.}

{And oh, he certainly notices that sour look on her face.}

That one over there. You're unhappy to see them, I gather.

[sonvisage]

[Oh, he has no idea. Okay, maybe he does!]

It is. [If he would only wake up to see the day change, things would be better.] If the thing that attacked him could be found, perhaps.

Your occupation? [And she'll pause in her movements, lean in just a bit closer, but her eyes keep moving back toward Riza ...and the Colonel who has just joined her. Smile? Frown? Well, fuck. Emotions are complicated and she doesn't want any more of them right now.]

[Was it that obvious?] Somewhat. [Yeah, that's her hand lighting on his shoulder.]

[malfattore]

{He'd be dense if he didn't notice, and dense he ain't.}

{... mildly annoyed by the touch, though? Check. Jarred by the fact that a female was touching him, his gaze drops to that hand, train of thought careening off the track.}

Not... everything is so easy to find. If foolish and careless enough, whatever attacked him will come to surface. Sometimes all it takes is patience. {Or a big enough ego. A lesson he had yet to learn.}

{A smirk. He forgets for the moment that she can see it, but whatever.} I thought you knew my occupation? Doctor, physician... it seems, bella that you're having problems with those eyes of yours. {A glance in the direction of her interests, and then back to her. He leans in, just slightly, tipping his head into hers, words hushed.}

Are you alright? Mmm? For the moment, I'm willing to listen to someone lament.

[sonvisage]

[It's not as if she hides it, either.]

[And she's using real fingers, not even sharp ones.]

Patience. I'm not sure if I possess of it. Just when I'm inclined to believe so ...something steps in and turns the tables. [Laugh.] It's a virtue, patience? Well, that would certainly explain why I would lack it.

[So. Distraaaaaaacted. It's irritating.] How unlike me to forget, doctor. [Huff. She blames Riza. And that damned dream.] The only problem is that I'm here instead of---

[Oh, hello. Some kind of group embrace is happening. What is this about? And why is Riza wearing that dress (And why does she care? Why is every. little. thing. getting to her?]

---are there no waltzes in Firenze?

[malfattore]

{He glances back at the group she's so very focused on, turning again to her with a crooked little grin, corner of his mouth twisted coyly}

I'm not quite sure what this waltz is you're talking about, bambina. {Reaching up to that hand, he twines slender fingers between his own, other hand settling on the curve of her hip. He doesn't get close, not too close, maintaining a respectable distance as he leans a bit, the gesture meant to guide.}

How about we dance, then, whichever way works best. {Smirk.} Perhaps a little closer to that one? {Incidentally, he's not sure whether she wants to be nearer to them or whether she's trying to stay out of their sight.}

Instead of where? Come now. Keep up.

{Anger or please her-- he'll take either as a success.}