Lux Mundi [ closed ]
Characters: Kristoph Gavin thedevilsmile and Sousuke Aizen gazeintothesun
Content: High tea between two upstanding citizens of Ivona
Setting: House of Dion, Bellcius
Time: Very very backlogged to when both the Silvana and the Victoria II were in Bellcius
Warnings: What could go wrong with tea?
What time he could spare from all those meetings (admittedly tiresome, but sometimes unexpectedly enjoyable) and little administrative requirements (even worse, with no possibility of unannounced benefits, but a myriad of avenues to obtain information) was spent in the Damocles Club's inner rooms, in the subterranean passages beneath the House of Dion. Though he had avoided becoming too attached to the place, it was the Club itself -- and what it could be -- that anchored him to it.
A random idea that had turned into something with far greater weight and import. Had he the luxury of self-indulgent pride, he would have basked in it throughout the hours he whiled away in the libraries and conversation room, but no.
Instead: watching, a soft smile on his lips, as he saw invisible lines criss-crossing, ties that were bound to significantly shape events in Reial being forged by dint of presence and silence and glance. His presence was never an intrusion, only a constant: the quiet, bookish man alone in one corner with a cup of tea and a book.
Today the tea was Darjeeling and the book was Principia Mathematica. He leafed through its pages with a randomness that, to the casual observer, would have looked like he was not reading so much at glancing at the patterns of words. Then again...
Content: High tea between two upstanding citizens of Ivona
Setting: House of Dion, Bellcius
Time: Very very backlogged to when both the Silvana and the Victoria II were in Bellcius
Warnings: What could go wrong with tea?
What time he could spare from all those meetings (admittedly tiresome, but sometimes unexpectedly enjoyable) and little administrative requirements (even worse, with no possibility of unannounced benefits, but a myriad of avenues to obtain information) was spent in the Damocles Club's inner rooms, in the subterranean passages beneath the House of Dion. Though he had avoided becoming too attached to the place, it was the Club itself -- and what it could be -- that anchored him to it.
A random idea that had turned into something with far greater weight and import. Had he the luxury of self-indulgent pride, he would have basked in it throughout the hours he whiled away in the libraries and conversation room, but no.
Instead: watching, a soft smile on his lips, as he saw invisible lines criss-crossing, ties that were bound to significantly shape events in Reial being forged by dint of presence and silence and glance. His presence was never an intrusion, only a constant: the quiet, bookish man alone in one corner with a cup of tea and a book.
Today the tea was Darjeeling and the book was Principia Mathematica. He leafed through its pages with a randomness that, to the casual observer, would have looked like he was not reading so much at glancing at the patterns of words. Then again...