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

[illgotten]

"What the hell are you doing?" mildly.

[le_desirous]

"What the hell does it look like?"

[illgotten]

"It looks like you're loafing unrepentantly." Mordred detours to punch him in the shoulder.

[le_desirous]

"Entirely possible." Being punched, he catches the longer supporting column to keep his balance.

[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."

[false_kyllikki]

Kyllikki is at home in the air, now that it's a bit cooler; she has on a bright red, heavily embroidered jacket that reminds her of the clothes of the Pohjola-men who had come to court her, and she gives Sagramore a little bow in passing.

[le_desirous]

Sagramore bows back, keeping his balance skilfully, and smiles at her, courtly. "My lady."

[false_kyllikki]

She didn't expect to be addressed; she has spoken to so few about the mansion--but she turns at the voice, and offers, "Sir?"

[le_desirous]

"How is my lady to-day?" Sagramore is all handsome charm, unaffected and warm.

[anna_morcades]

There's a light step beside him, and fingers in his hair. "Good day to you."

[le_desirous]

"How does my lady?" In a murmur, turning to her.

[anna_morcades]

"Well enough." She's in grey today, that shimmers like the surface of the lake and makes her dark hair and pale skin look vivid. Her thumb brushes the rim of his ear. "How dost thou?"

[le_desirous]

He drapes a hand loosely at her waist. "Well enough."