I already have a collection. Who was it that said I should be prepared for anything?
[ really, it's a common enough mantra amongst the crows, especially ingrained in their training as fledglings. one could never know what can happen on a contract. it was considered of utmost importance to be ready to change at a moment's notice or to modify the original plan.
Viago, though, took that paranoia to a near-ridiculous degree. his backup plans had backups. ever prepared for so many eventualities, he's sternly reminded her of the same advice in the years they've known each other. sometimes, it's enough to drive her mad.
but mostly, she thinks of it and it warms her through. his tone may sound aggrieved or nagging, but she knows it's one of the ways he shows he cares.
the other way is what he offers now, without hesitation—the embrace of his arm, the fine leather and silk warmed line of his body next to hers, and as the carriage comes to a stop, the offer of his hand down. she had figured out early on that he didn't like to be touched. so to allow himself and to seek it out, even encased in gloves and buttoned up to his neck; she knows how much he pushes through to do so. it's brave.
(it's love, supplies her mind, and she gently shoves that off to the side as they sweep up to the restaurant's entrance.) ]
On the water. Even with the Antaam here, Treviso's sparkling canals cannot be dimmed.
[ it's something she's always loved about this city. the less romantic part of the answer is she likes to have an immediate exit, if needed. dropping onto a gondola or straight into the water was a quick way out.
giving his hand a squeeze back, she only lets go to loop her arm once again through his. they certainly make quite the pair, she thinks, as she catches their slightly distorted reflection in the handworked glass panels flanking the maître d's podium. used to seeing one or both of them here, they're easily ushered to their preferred seat on the attached overlook. the soft breeze coming off the water is partially blocked by a vine-covered trellis and a neatly curated half wall with planters. in this cozy corner, tucked away from the noise and Viago sternly staring down the menu, she could almost pretend things were normal. ]
How have you been, in Salle? I heard much about your efforts but very little about you.
[ as was customary from Viago. it took great effort for him to drop his professional mien, even in personal correspondence. ]
no subject
[ really, it's a common enough mantra amongst the crows, especially ingrained in their training as fledglings. one could never know what can happen on a contract. it was considered of utmost importance to be ready to change at a moment's notice or to modify the original plan.
Viago, though, took that paranoia to a near-ridiculous degree. his backup plans had backups. ever prepared for so many eventualities, he's sternly reminded her of the same advice in the years they've known each other. sometimes, it's enough to drive her mad.
but mostly, she thinks of it and it warms her through. his tone may sound aggrieved or nagging, but she knows it's one of the ways he shows he cares.
the other way is what he offers now, without hesitation—the embrace of his arm, the fine leather and silk warmed line of his body next to hers, and as the carriage comes to a stop, the offer of his hand down. she had figured out early on that he didn't like to be touched. so to allow himself and to seek it out, even encased in gloves and buttoned up to his neck; she knows how much he pushes through to do so. it's brave.
(it's love, supplies her mind, and she gently shoves that off to the side as they sweep up to the restaurant's entrance.) ]
On the water. Even with the Antaam here, Treviso's sparkling canals cannot be dimmed.
[ it's something she's always loved about this city. the less romantic part of the answer is she likes to have an immediate exit, if needed. dropping onto a gondola or straight into the water was a quick way out.
giving his hand a squeeze back, she only lets go to loop her arm once again through his. they certainly make quite the pair, she thinks, as she catches their slightly distorted reflection in the handworked glass panels flanking the maître d's podium. used to seeing one or both of them here, they're easily ushered to their preferred seat on the attached overlook. the soft breeze coming off the water is partially blocked by a vine-covered trellis and a neatly curated half wall with planters. in this cozy corner, tucked away from the noise and Viago sternly staring down the menu, she could almost pretend things were normal. ]
How have you been, in Salle? I heard much about your efforts but very little about you.
[ as was customary from Viago. it took great effort for him to drop his professional mien, even in personal correspondence. ]