Oh, you don't have a favourite drink, hm? I wonder what suits you. I kind of always thought you to be a wine sort of man. And definitely light. Sweet, I think. So maybe white wine? I think that's the sweet kind. A sweet wine for a sweet wizard.
I have a favorite drink, but you're unlikely to find it as far out as we are. Something sweet will do perfectly fine, and I daresay is well-suited for both of us.
That's plenty a help. I'll pick you out something nice. Please make sure I have somewhere very nice to get cosy in. I'll stay longer if you let me sit somewhere soft.
Now, now, I didn't say that. But I wouldn't argue against it either. You know as well as I do that the ground, even in a bedroll, isn't the most comfiest place to be. But honestly, I was just thinking a pillow or two would be nice.
[She agonises longer than she should over a choice of wine for him. But they have plenty of stores that they haven't depleted just yet. So when she pokes her head into his tent, she offers up a mulled wine. It's not quite what she originally envisioned, but it's should still be good. In fact, so good that it should suit them both.
She'll forego mead for this very special occasion. In her other hand, a couple of silver goblets, which she waves back and forth.]
Heeeello. Room for one more?
[She means herself. It's her. She's the 'one more.']
[He pulls the flap aside for her so she can step inside. Next to all those pillows is a low table and a couple of wine glasses - it seems he also thought to provide drinkware. No problem in having a second set, should something happen to the first.]
I've been meaning to chat with you more often. I vastly prefer getting to know one another on a more intimate level through polite conversation than via our unwelcome visitors.
[She preens. 'Esteemed colleague.' It's not what she'd call herself, but from him, she'll take it. She carefully steps in, mindful of where she steps, takes a moment just to situate from a first impression. Parking herself momentarily by the low table, she sets down the goblets and the bottle she's brought before she decides that the pillows must be for her.
Grinning for some moments, she seats herself carefully. What he follows up with, however, makes her take him just a touch more seriously.]
Oh, have you, now? [She asks, considering that usually she's the one full of never-ending questions. She'll have to find a means to keep it that way.] It's true that our little companions do make that a little more difficult. It's different when you can see an expression. There's no time like the present, Gale.
[Which said by so many other people would likely come across as sarcastic, but when she says it, it sounds so happy, so chipper, that it is likely that she genuinely likes order.
And rules.
Patiently, she presses her hands into her lap, watching him intently, as if she doesn't care to miss a moment.]
What kind of rules? I thought I would need to come with some, but I see you've already beaten me there.
For starters, I suggest that anything said here stays here. The last thing we need is for any inebriated admissions to become the subject of gossip around the campfire.
[Maybe he's not saying that about her, though, but rather himself.]
Gale, that was a given. Of course I would prefer it if what comes out here, stays right here, regardless of who's saying it. Do I really expect either of us to say something that will fall into that? No. Not especially. But better to get that out of the way.
[Oh, he's absolutely saying that about himself. It wouldn't be intentional, but he's well aware that for as much as he enjoys wine, he doesn't hold his liquor terribly well.]
No harm in setting it as an established rule, even if we don't think it will be an issue. Beyond that, I assume I need not mention that we should be honest with what we admit to. It'd defeat the purpose of this exercise otherwise.
Nepione rather likes keeping information about herself to herself. She can admit that when she wants to avoid a discussion, a question, anything that just might permit someone closer to her, she tends to evade or distract.
Although she considers protesting, she takes a moment to reflect. Surely, surely she won't find herself in a corner where she has to say something she's been clinging onto. Loosing a breath she's been holding, the tiefling offers an uncertain, somewhat stilted nod.]
...Yes, all right. That's two for two on obvious. This isn't really an exercise, though. It's supposed to be fun. You're making it sound like work.
Exercises can be plenty of fun with the right mindset. And that's what the wine is for.
[Of course, that comes from the guy who has more books than healing potions in his tent. There are some sitting along nearly every wall of the fabric enclosure, even more tucked away into a small chest by his bedroll.]
[She doesn't even bother trying to hide the groan that is set free. Ah. Leave it to him to put it in such a way. It sounds like another fascinating rendition of Education with Gale, which, to be fair, is actually something she enjoys quite a lot.
Just—]
You're impossible. Yes, okay. Fine. Exercise. Fun. Educational. Testing the limits of my brain tonight. I think we should have a rule about... this not becoming about work. No work or duty or obligation discussion.
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[But by the time Nepione arrives, he's got closer to eight pillows of varying sizes. Gale, too, likes to be cozy.]
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She'll forego mead for this very special occasion. In her other hand, a couple of silver goblets, which she waves back and forth.]
Heeeello. Room for one more?
[She means herself. It's her. She's the 'one more.']
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[He pulls the flap aside for her so she can step inside. Next to all those pillows is a low table and a couple of wine glasses - it seems he also thought to provide drinkware. No problem in having a second set, should something happen to the first.]
I've been meaning to chat with you more often. I vastly prefer getting to know one another on a more intimate level through polite conversation than via our unwelcome visitors.
[He gestures to his head.]
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Grinning for some moments, she seats herself carefully. What he follows up with, however, makes her take him just a touch more seriously.]
Oh, have you, now? [She asks, considering that usually she's the one full of never-ending questions. She'll have to find a means to keep it that way.] It's true that our little companions do make that a little more difficult. It's different when you can see an expression. There's no time like the present, Gale.
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[He waves his hand and conjures a couple of pillows for himself on the other side of the table, taking a seat upon them.]
Now, I think we should perhaps lay some ground rules for this game.
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[Which said by so many other people would likely come across as sarcastic, but when she says it, it sounds so happy, so chipper, that it is likely that she genuinely likes order.
And rules.
Patiently, she presses her hands into her lap, watching him intently, as if she doesn't care to miss a moment.]
What kind of rules? I thought I would need to come with some, but I see you've already beaten me there.
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[Maybe he's not saying that about her, though, but rather himself.]
Gale, that was a given. Of course I would prefer it if what comes out here, stays right here, regardless of who's saying it. Do I really expect either of us to say something that will fall into that? No. Not especially. But better to get that out of the way.
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No harm in setting it as an established rule, even if we don't think it will be an issue. Beyond that, I assume I need not mention that we should be honest with what we admit to. It'd defeat the purpose of this exercise otherwise.
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Nepione rather likes keeping information about herself to herself. She can admit that when she wants to avoid a discussion, a question, anything that just might permit someone closer to her, she tends to evade or distract.
Although she considers protesting, she takes a moment to reflect. Surely, surely she won't find herself in a corner where she has to say something she's been clinging onto. Loosing a breath she's been holding, the tiefling offers an uncertain, somewhat stilted nod.]
...Yes, all right. That's two for two on obvious. This isn't really an exercise, though. It's supposed to be fun. You're making it sound like work.
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Exercises can be plenty of fun with the right mindset. And that's what the wine is for.
[Of course, that comes from the guy who has more books than healing potions in his tent. There are some sitting along nearly every wall of the fabric enclosure, even more tucked away into a small chest by his bedroll.]
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Just—]
You're impossible. Yes, okay. Fine. Exercise. Fun. Educational. Testing the limits of my brain tonight. I think we should have a rule about... this not becoming about work. No work or duty or obligation discussion.
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Fair enough. As you're my guest, you start.
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Hm. Do you prefer it if I ask questions or if we just offer up information about ourselves?
[She remembers the original point. Sharing things they've never done versus things they have.]
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I prefer questions. As much as I love the sound of my own voice, I'm never quite sure what to say about myself, aside from my usual accolades.
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[Unless, of course, he's shared all of those things already. Maybe she can get away with taking a different approach.]
I know you like reading a lot. What's your favourite kind of book? I can't see you necessarily being the sort to like fables.
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