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pundantic · 07-23-2022, 04:27 AM

SPOILER!!: cruel little tyrant

Gideon wasn’t usually one for silence. He liked a crowded room or a busy dance floor or a laughter-filled dinner party until all hours of the morning. But he could see the occasional merit of silence. This path was alarmingly quiet, especially in comparison with the flash of the party mere steps away. It was like being shrouded in another sonar world. One step from revelry.

Like some kind of fae prince from the old stories, the dangerous ones that danced with mortals until they dropped from exhaustion, he inked forward, gliding info Kinsay’s space. He grinned down at her. “Are you offering?”

In those old stories about the fae— the ancient ones who could only tell the truth and so never lied (but instead dodged questions with crafty means)— you were never supposed to accept their offers to dance. It was the one rule.

And yet.

07-23-2022, 04:27 AM	#32 (permalink)
pundantic MO Moke Join Date: Dec 2010 Location: Winterfell Posts: 8,760 Hogwarts RPG Name: Gideon Emerson Slytherin Seventh Year x4	Who Am I? Ern's 2460FUN SPOILER!!: cruel little tyrant Quote: Originally Posted by ArianaBlack "Mm, did I?" Kins turned, offering Gideon a small, sheepish smile. In truth, she hadn't expected to run into anyone here, assuming most were still dancing the night away. But she had recognized his voice before turning to see him and knew better than to be surprised. She did owe him a dance, afterall. And she didn't mind his company, not really. She never did. Even if she wanted to escape from everyone else just for a little, little bit. Gideon wasn't overwhelming the way other people sometimes were. She reached for one of her necklaces, as if to re-center it. "I always keep my promises. You know that." The same way he kept his. The dress was stunning by the way. It had her feeling all sorts of confident. Ways she hadn't felt for months. "Do you want your dance now? Here?" She tilted her head, voice soft, features softer. Whatever he wanted. She promised. Gideon wasn’t usually one for silence. He liked a crowded room or a busy dance floor or a laughter-filled dinner party until all hours of the morning. But he could see the occasional merit of silence. This path was alarmingly quiet, especially in comparison with the flash of the party mere steps away. It was like being shrouded in another sonar world. One step from revelry. Like some kind of fae prince from the old stories, the dangerous ones that danced with mortals until they dropped from exhaustion, he inked forward, gliding info Kinsay’s space. He grinned down at her. “Are you offering?” In those old stories about the fae— the ancient ones who could only tell the truth and so never lied (but instead dodged questions with crafty means)— you were never supposed to accept their offers to dance. It was the one rule. And yet. __________________