#venticatenae

“Wow, he really does want to show off~” An offhand comment as the bard peruses the various refreshments made available to the guests, now located inside the Viscount’s already grand halls. What catches his attention the most, however, isn’t anything delicately plated, but something far more overtly extravagant.

A fountain of chocolate. How much would this cost? Treats are served nearby on skewers, though there is no one nearby to stop him if he was just going to take a scoop with a spoon…

Oh, wait, there was.

She looked familiar, too, but he couldn’t bring any name to the face. Oh, well. “Hello~ Are you here for the chocolate too?”

“...Sir Lewyn? Oh, I should have known you would find your way here!” Nanna said with a gentle laugh, already holding a skewer of fruit—though not yet dipped. After all, he was one of the faces of the generation before them, and his wisdom had guided them into the present day. Her eyes, thoughtful beneath soft curls and a ribbon of pearls, lingered on his face for a moment too long before her smile turned a shade more curious. “...You look so much younger than I remember.”

There’s no accusation in her voice—only wonder, perhaps tinged with a sense of displaced familiarity. “You used to be one of Lord Seliph’s most trusted voices. I am sure he appreciates seeing you around.” She tilts her head, lips parting as though she might say more, but decides against it. Better to let the moment be what it was.

Instead, she turns her attention to the fountain, finally dipping her fruit with practiced grace. “It’s very impressive, isn’t it? I think he is trying to show off, haha!” she echoes back playfully, “but I suppose that’s the point of a ball like this. To indulge a little.”

“Hello Professor~” Comes a call, before a wayward student makes himself known before the other man. A wayward student who only occasionally shows up to class, that is. Still, he cheekily makes no remark of that sort, instead holding a small handful of wrapped candies.

“Care to have a mint? It’ll help with the mountains of food that they’ve put out for tonight!”

To be honest, he has no idea if the other man will pick out the correct candy or not- the two looked about the same.

All the more fun!

“Well, hello, dear student~!”

Truant or not, the fellow is chipper enough, and Azama will take participation (willing or not) over attendance. Still, whether or not for lack of showing his mug in class, the professor doesn’t have as good a read on this student as he might like,

and so trust is in short supply.

“You know what? I would love a mint.”

These candies are, after all, familiar to the monk. Having handed out a few himself over the past few years, welllll… He may not trust the mints, but he’ll take one regardless.

“Thank you-” Azama smiles, plucks up the offering, and in it goes - leaving him to await his fate.

Ah.

“-most kindly,” he finishes, face neutral. He clears his throat. Coughs behind a closed fist.

Free hand fishes out a starfish charm. The smile he wears, as he holds it out to Lewyn, is genuine. “In gratitude… Augh… If you’ll excuse me…”

He wants to go wash out his mouth, really, he does,

“Oh, heya, Prof!” Not that Lewyn showed up to any of the classes that the assistant professor helped out with. Still he waves cheerfully and shamelessly as he approaches the mock arena, recognizing the member of the faculty nonetheless. “Looks like they put a lot of effort into the games here.”

Picking up an inflated sword from the pile of toy weapons, he pokes at the other man harmlessly. “What do you say we hold a faux-duel? We could put something up on line, even~. It’ll be fun! First round, for one of these little charms they gave us!”

"What the - ? Fine. Get over here."

“Oh, if it isn’t Deirdre!” A pleased voice rises above the bumble of the crowd, lilting and bright. Then, just moments after, a head of green hair pops up beside her, having braved the hoard of people to greet her. “How’s everything been?”

A mere pleasantry, but he still flashes her a smile, as much as ease in this group of people as he was in the open air. Acting as if nothing had happened- it was easy to, and more so if to keep up morale. “It's been a while, hasn't it. Have you been holding up okay?"

Then, more cheerfully, "Care to trade our charms? I hear that I’m supposed to collect every type, whatever that means~.”

"Lord Lewyn!" Deirdre is delighted to see him emerging from the crowd. As much as she does love being in the presence of others, it can be overwhelming when there are just so many people. It is a relief to see a friend and even more of a relief that he is happy to see her as well. She links her arm through his to keep from being separated.

"It has been too long but do not worry. I have been quite well. Things have been going quite well for me as of late and that trend continues with you here!" She is happy to join him in his dance around the difficult subjects. It is a ball and they are old friends. They deserve to simply enjoy themselves.

There is distance between them now. Even Deirdre who does everything she can to tell herself that things are normal and nothing has changed with their friendship can feel the space between herself and Lewyn that had not been there before her past had been lit aflame.

It is different, though, with him. He looks over the gap, through the wall that separates them in the same way that she does. It is not always simple and she wonders if he too catches glimpses of that terrible day when he looks at her the way she does sometimes when she looks at him.

She should have known.

She should have turned back, she should have taken him with, she should have-

Well. None of that mattered now. She feels herself asking "really? Is he truly?" but she doesn't need to ask. The very fact she was being told was proof enough.

She feels herself sinking to the floor, and though someone reaches to support her she slips through their arms.

Lewyn. I've failed you.

Her eyes well with tears but she makes no sound as they fall. She feels her chest hollowing, as fresh shock and grief drains her soul.

"But- the children," she whispers, a hand rising from her lap to wipe at her tears, even as she knows she'll fill the ocean again before they stop.

Someone takes her hands and pulls her back to standing, begins to lead her back down the hallway, supporting her by her shoulders. Quiet whispers of sympathy drip from their mouths, but Fury does not here them.

In his hands is an offering of yellow zinnia flowers.

"You remembered!" Of course he remembered, she realizes when she sees the specific color of zinnias he has chosen for her. They both remember.

He’s slower to approach, but still he does. Maybe out of foolhardiness, or that he knows if he dies, it’s hardly real. Though… dreamland was not a pleasant prospect either. Does he play the part or act as himself? 

Both and neither, apparently, as he comes to a stop. “Hey. You seemed excited by the Baroness’ little show earlier~. You must be eager for the mystery, then?”

After unlocking his room and dropping off what meagre possessions he'd brought along for the trip, Griss had set out to roam the estate with no particular destination in mind, guided perhaps only by the steward's "death" and the impulse to unlock whatever ward now guarded his own body. There were a number of rooms, and within them, a plethora of ways to go about it, but it was the visage of an unrecognized saint dressed in a bishop's attire that caught his attention first, and where he now stands. Mere contemplation isn't enough for him though, and he turns to the approaching voice with excitement that, to any bystanders, could have been mistaken for familiarity. In reality, Griss had never seen or met the man dressed head to toe in peach (he'd remember that paired with the verdant green hair, surely), but he's more than eager for a companion. Or a test subject.