high life

"way better than my taste, that's for sure." igraine agrees. "like that 'quiet luxury' i'm always hearing about?" as with many things found in the upper echelons of society, the old money aesthetic is a concept that perplexes her still. she follows his gaze with her own, considering her answer with pursed lips, "a scarf's functional too, which is great, but most of these patterns are pretty… out there. like, you'll definitely know it when you see it.what about jewelry? there has to be something a little more delicate. not so ostentatious." a pause, wrestling with whether to pose the question or not, kneading the toile de jouy shawl with her fingers, "is she the only one you're shopping for? i don't mean to be nosy, but… even i hear things." she finally asks with a sheepish smile.

a noncommittal hum resonating from her throat, igraine smiles wryly, "good thing i'm used to talking to myself." she likes to imagine being raised as an only child had such an effect. "just asking what you've been up to lately. but… it doesn't matter." she shrugs loosely, gaze darting away watch condensation run down her glass of iced tea. "have you tried, like, eating a proper meal? i've read that helps. probably not too late to order something from the kitchen either."

benny nods, almost sagely. "uphill, both ways, through five feet of snow. you've endured so much," he deadpans. a few beats pass before he finally cracks, brows furrowing, head shaking vigorously, "three watches for your pain and suffering, though? i don't think i like anyone that much." so says the collector of timepieces, raising an eyebrow. "but by all means, make that investment yourself . i won't stop you."

head shakes automatically, dismissing both apology and question of concern in one fell swoop. "all good. i've survived much worse than a maltipoo attack," the veterinarian insists with an easy smile. he wriggles fingers as he offers a hand for the small dog to sniff. it's not his first time seeing a patient out in the wild, and certainly wouldn't be the last. "honestly, i'm surprised she's happy to see me. it's always a toss-up… i'm kind of a bad omen," he jokes. in spite of others' claims to the contrary, benny is not a true animal whisperer.

"you think this face can go on trial? or get on the witness stand?" putting on her best, most angelic face, not all too different from the norm, igraine points to her visage. "better for you if i just stay out of it. at least until i can learn to be a better partner in crime." she insists with a nod. luciana has been a welcome influence since they'd first met, just as much as she's been a corrupting one. "i'd do booze if more a few drops didn't turn me into a lobster." a full-face flush that even her most humiliating moment could never replicate. gaze trails down to snow crunching under her boots, ruminating far too much for such a question. "i guess the world around me, then? lately it's been…" well, lately it's been nothing, the writer's creative reserves only enough for work and work alone. "… human-made horrors beyond my comprehension. waking up in a cold sweat and channeling the fear response into something coherent." feeling eyes on her as they enter the building, igraine inches closer to the elder. "where do you even get ketamine? do you have to, like, know a guy? does the guide get it for you?" she mumbles the flurry of questions, curiosity edging out embarrassment.

brows lift at her pacing, but benny chalks it up to being cooped up on the train ride. "if anything around here's gonna do that, it's probably a museum." that or people-watching, maybe, but he'd be more inclined to pay more attention to his phone in that case. better to stick to logging off, at least while on vacation, even if sometimes he swears he can hear his work phone ringing. "there's one room that looks like you're inside a terrarium, but it's from, y'know, however long ago it was painted, so… not very realistic, but charming."

a nod as he fishes cellphone out of his pocket, mouthing name of the winery as he types. "i don't see why not. wine's a great excuse to slip away if the tour goes on too long." though benny doubts it would make much of a difference if they left early; the museum still gets its money the moment they walk in. "are you up for a walk? it doesn't look too far, and it might help us stay warmer but… i guess a car'll do that too." he muses aloud with a breathy laugh following, the cold already nibbling at his fingertips.

"i was looking forward to hot chocolate, but…" translator casts the bustling cafe one more glance, petal lips curling into a small frown. "… i really would hate to miss out on something else by standing around all day," she agrees, a shiver running up her spine at the thought. especially when the promise of a good experience is never guaranteed. "it really is magical, huh? never seen anything quite like it." leavenworth comes close, but now the little mountain town of igraine's memories seems like little more than a pale imitation. "there's so much to do, though. how do we even pick just one thing?"

kamala wasn't the kind of person to frequent cafes. not because she didn't enjoy them but her label tried to keep her where they thought her fans wanted her, at the latest club. it made sense with the kind of music she made. but she longed to be the kind of person who people would think she frequents cafes and have a barista say the usual? that just wasn't in the cards for her. when igraine suggested they go back later, kamala looked and replied, "yeah, sure. i mean, i'm sure nobody goes there anyway. it's too crowded." to some, it might seem like a witless comment from hollywood's resident airhead but she was really just paraphrasing one of yogi berra's famous isms. but people wouldn't actually expect her to reference anything other than...the princess diaries and maybe clueless.

rotating the popstar's words in their mind, searching for something to parse, igraine's head tips in the other direction. eventually they hum, agreeing with their own interpretation: that a place of higher caliber would not have nearly as many people crowding around it. or something. "we'll have to find something else to do in the meantime…" still far too wary of the slopes, in spite of their dad has nothing but good things to say, they haven't ventured far past the streets outside of the hotel. but igraine sprefers the idea of a hike over speeding downhill anyway, no matter how much protective gear they might have on. realizing they've dived into their thoughts mid-sentence, igraine jolts, back straighten out of a slouch, "i think we passed a souvenir shop earlier. might be fun to get lost in for a bit?" they offer.

"just winter sports? not, oh, i don't know… sightseeing?" eyes dart around the view available to them: powdery white interrupted by splotches of color, a civilization that feels further away than it really is. he has a point, but with her mild resistance, marciana won't contest just yet. "one drink only," she echoes, grin almost cheshire-like. relief, to her chagrin, makes up a good portion of the motive behind that very smile. "and the we can come back. but the bartender has to mix it—shots will have to wait for the end of the day." gloved hand extends for a handshake. "deal?"

"i should've known there was a right answer." conversation already falling into a familiar pattern, his eye roll is immediately followed by lips twitching into a smile. "that… might be for the best. a glass of each it is." he peeks up from the menu, nose wrinkling, "no time for beauty sleep today, but maybe tomorrow. i'm going snowkiting later." he explains. even without work at the forefront of his mind, he can't stay idle for too long, but an hour or two relaxation could very well be better justified by then, depending on how the excursion unfolds. "have you been to the spa already? i mean, i've heard good things, but…" he purposely leaves the thought unfinished, but if he had, it would be about trusting her opinion, at least on occasion.

shoving hands into his pockets, he offers a shrug, feigning innocence as if he hasn't already incriminated himself. although the worst he could manage would be shoving them into a snowbank—a thought that briefly crosses his mind once more when he processes their joke. still, steps slow while khay catches up, "i'm pretty sure it was this century, actually, but who knows? it's easy to forget things in my old age." benny fires back with a lopsided grin. "that's what you get for ordering old timey cough syrup. we'll get you something better as soon as we find this place, promise. keep an eye out for…" he trails off, filing through his memory for any details of the establishment. "… a german name, and one of those sandwich boards out front. it was kind of a hole in the wall."

a bark of laughter is yanked out of her, so unexpected igraine nearly frightens herself. burgundy mittened hands immediately fly to her mouth, cheeks burning an equal red, "y'know what? deal. i definitely don't want to be an accessory to… whatever crime it would be to poke someone's eye out," she says once composed again, though shoulders still tremble as a sort of aftershock. she half-jogs after luciana, falling into step with the elder, "i mean that's not normally my thing, but we're on vacation, so… no reason not to," she ventures, rising intonation emerging from further uncertainty. but at least she has someone far more decisive to steer her in one direction or another. "i can't say i've had mulled wine before, i guess i'll be trying something new regardless."

"you're right," igraine says with an almost resigned sigh. "this one's listed in the brochure, so it's probably one of the first places people think of." the cafe in question has all the makings if a tourist attraction at its core anyhow—close to lodgings, cohesive with the storefronts around it, yet distinctive. even without a crowd, it's hard to miss. and igraine, too, had fallen for it. "hopefully…" head on a swivel, they look left, right, left again. lingering. "i don't think we've been that way yet. might be worth a shot?" they muse, jamming their thumb in the same direction.

celeste doesn’t slow. she stops outright, heels planted with intent, gaze skimming the café line like a strategist surveying a board she already understands. her expression gives nothing away — not irritation, not eagerness — just quiet authority. “busy doesn’t make something good,” she says coolly. “it makes it popular. those are rarely the same thing.” her eyes flick back to igraine, assessing without apology. “queues are for people who need reassurance. i don’t.” a pause, deliberate. “and neither do you — not really.” she glances down the street, where the snow still looks untouched, pristine in a way crowds can’t ruin yet. “st. moritz is at its best when you take what you want before everyone else thinks to.” then, measured and final: “we walk. if the café is still worth our time later, it’ll still be standing.” a beat — just enough to soften the blade. “indecision is forgivable,” she adds quietly. “settling isn’t.” celeste turns, already moving, fully expecting igraine to follow.

in igraine's mind, there is a fine line between admiration and intimidation. they can name but a few people who elicit such a sentiment in them better than the woman before her. as her explanation continues, their gaze falls to the ground, the rubber toe of their boot scuffing against the pavement, "i guess i still have a lot to learn. i really don't know the first thing about saint moritz either," they admit after a beat. convincing themself not to back out of the trip last minute had been at least half the battle. every other city they have visited is an extension of the familiar, but what tether could they possibly have to a place like this? spine straightens as celeste walks past, and as if acting on their own, igraine's feet carry them to trail after her, "but… how do we know when we've found what we're looking for? that we're not settling?"