Oh oh, suppose you'll never know

[practicality]

Characters: Balthier [Original] and Dahlia [Original]
Setting: Dahlia's condominium
Time: Evening of January 31st
Summary: Dahlia invited Balthier over for dinner with her sister, who sadly couldn't show up. [Based off the fairy tale plot]
Warnings: Who knows? So far only Dahlia's insistent need to kill the man and her sister.

Comments

[piratetheskies]

Balthier was always fashionably late. There when he was least expected, and often not in the exact place one expected either. For good reason, at any rate-- being predictable was far too boring. It was enough as it were for him to try and appear interested in high class life-- as vapid and shallow as it were.

And then, of course, he had to propose. Really, his father would have nothing else. Of course, the old man was rather senile and ignorant... Heh, really, he could find nothing positive to say about the man who was seemingly going crazy.

And for now, it was dinner at his fiancee's house, as planned. This would be interesting, he thought as he knocked upon the door.

[practicality]

She wasn't thinking for the moment, having received news earlier that her sister couldn't make it to dinner, and she approached the door with knife in hand. God help Iris if she was at the door..Dahlia may attempt at her life.

She smiled though, when answering it - giving off the facade that she was really perfectly fine with this matrimony.

"Balthier. It's nice to see you again." She spoke softly, before she lowered her hand with the knife. "Late as usual."

Dahlia turned from the man, still smiling as she moved to allow him into her home. It was a shame really that his finacee was no where to be found, but that just made this evening all the better.

She would win.

[piratetheskies]

"It seems you wouldn't expect any less," Balthier replied somewhat dolefully, only bothering with a slight bow, to match custom-- and as he entered her home, he removed his hat. Really, he wished he couldn't be bothered with the damn thing. There were other ways to show style-- and the hat didn't feel like it were particularly his.

The inside of the house was well furnished and cleaned, obviously well taken care of by... whomever did the cleaning. Balthier was secretly always impressed by this, especially by the several older pieces and artifacts present there-in. But that was something to be put aside, for the better.

"And where, oh where is Iris? It'd be a shame if I came all this way and she wasn't present again."

[practicality]

"Of course not." She spoke softly, before cleaning the knife on her apron and setting it down upon the cutting board. Really, she thought, why did she cut up carrots for a potato and leek soup? Oh well, it was at least something to eat while she cooked. After all she hardly had eaten recently.

She felt no remorse for the fact she would have to inform Balthier that Iris was ill and couldn't join them. But she did hate to see him upset. A shame really. His pretty lover was nothing more then a weakling. How could he choose her?

She began to wash the potato under the sink, getting the stray bits of skin off it. "Iris won't be joining us tonight under mother's orders. A pity isn't it?" She nearly questioned if he would stay, but Balthier was a gentleman.

But all she wanted to do was take the knife off the cutting board and murder him.