Letters from Home (open)

[Deimian Kyrikk]

"Hm..." Deimian thought for a moment. He turns his face toward Allison, as if he was looking right at her from behind his veil. With his posh, but smooth and silky British accent, he began,

"What delicate violin fiddled,
What ivory key pressed with fickle touch, 
Can play a song that..." he paused a moment,
"Demands a heartbeat such,

"Thy voice is so sweet
Golden honey to my ears." 
another pause interrupted him briefly as he slowly switched his cane from his right hand to his left, 
"Thy faintest whisper
Scatters my fears."

Deimian reached out his right, tattooed hand to delicately feel Allison's face, hoping the trend of physical touch not being bothersome would continue. 

"Though sight has left mine eyes
My might cannot stand against thy song
Though darkness veils thy... silken, visage,
May all days beside thee be ever long. "

He paused again as his hand searched and eventually found hers. 

"If any god may grant me 
A mere moment of sight
I pray tis of thee, 
By day, and by night."

As his words finished, he would lift up and give a gentle kiss to her hand. 

[Allison Kazim]

When Deimian turned to face her, Ali assumed it was to ask if she knew of anyone that might be able to translate, or to elaborate what sort of poetry he liked. She was not expecting a full demonstration, to say the least.

Why WAS THERe SO MUCH TOUCHING? The mage froze as a hand reached out towards her face and touched it, fighting the impulse to step back from the stranger somehow thought to use her as a demonstration or inspiration. Her eyes immediately glanced around them as Deimien’s hand fell away, expecting to find some nobleman enjoying the show after seeing if his friends could get a reaction out of a commoner girl. But there wasn’t one, and she wasn’t back home.

Quickly taking that step back as he pulled her hand to his lips, she cleared her throat.

“You have quite a way with words, Mr. Kyrikk.” She brushed her skirts free of imaginary dirt and still half expecting to wake up from whatever this was to find a trap. Her hand fell back to her side.

[Cillian McWolfe]

He chuckled lightly, stepping in to try and divert the situation.

"I am jealous, I dont think anyone has composed something for me on the fly like that. You must be quite talented indeed Sir."

[Deimian Kyrikk]

Deimian chuckled awkwardly. "Apologies, madame. I could be considered more skilled in bird-watching than interacting with others," he mused to try to joke the situation away.

At Cillian's compliment, Deimian nodded. "It gladdens me that you enjoyed it. I appreciate your kind words."

[Allison Kazim]

"Give it time, Mr. McWolfe." Grateful for the break in Romanticism, Ali managed a faint chuckle that reflected her discomfort with being the center of such attention.

"It's alright, Mr. Kyrikk. I understand you didn't mean any harm by it. And it's true enough, you have quite the skill to be able to put your thoughts to words like that so easily. You could well melt a heart with those words."

[Cillian McWolfe]

"Perhaps. We'll see. However, I think I must take my leave. If I don't get something to eat I might wither and waste away."

He'd chuckle giving them another small bow.

"With luck, we will meet again shortly. I wish both of you all the best."

And if there was nothing else he would take his leave.

[Deimian Kyrikk]

Deimian would chuckle with Ali's compliment, then respond to Cillian's goodbye.

"Oh yes of course, it was a pleasure to meet you both. I should return to meditation."

With that Deimian would grab his cane and have it ready to walk away. If that was all, he would bid ado with a simple, "Goodbye."

[Allison Kazim]

"Indeed. It was a pleasure to meet you both." She nodded to Cillian and Deimian as they bid farewell to one another. She wouldn't go interrupting lunch or meditation, instead making her way to the training grounds. For reasons.