[ Like a finger being pressed on the upper corner of a book that might be drawn from the shelf, Bondrewd's mind glances across Rosaria's — seeking her out, before withdrawing politely from the depths of her mind. Their Aspects are one step too far for them to be of much use to one another, but at the least they are not polar opposites.
He leaves the impression of a place to meet, a pleasantly atmospheric and quiet bar near to the venue that reads one's shard and fortune. It is not that place that he invites Rosaria, but the place across the street; dark and smoky, and definitely a location that will look the other way — as the man who awaits her is nearly seven feet tall and armored from head to toe. In the dark of the bar, he glows faintly — the line of his mask, several points along the heavy drape of his mechanical tail, illuminating him in the corner booth where he raises his hand to signal to her. ]
Miss Rosaria.
[ With him, there is a small box of souvenirs from Springstar. An entire sleeve of cigarettes sits at the top, with a note written in circular, foreign script — the writing of Bondrewd's native world. It is that sleeve full of cartons of cigarettes that he holds out to her, immediately upon seeing her approach. ]
I am sorry we were unsuccessful. While I am not aggrieved of our loss, it is disappointing to have lost out on such a good opportunity.
[ ...Huh. Somehow, she's not surprised he reached out to her, but she is surprised by the venue. Someone must have let off a few hints about her favorite haunts in the city –or maybe she did so herself without thinking. Either way, she's not protesting, as she owes Bondrewd a great deal for keeping her activities a secret and for also suffering temporary imprisonment with her.
They've shared a bond. A reluctant one but also one she won't be forgetting anytime soon, so she meets him at the requested spot and slides into the stool next to his hulking form.
A few stares are tossed their way, but it's nothing she's not already used to. A nun and a hulking hunk of armor are bound to get attention no matter where they go, as evidence by how their thieving venture turned out. ]
You owe me no apologies. I was the one who asked you, remember? Which is why I'll be covering the drinks tonight. Order what you want.
[ To his mind, what she offers is not exactly generous, nor is it kind. Rosaria appears to him a woman who prefers tangible fact, not thoughtful dreams. Bondrewd's disappointment is, perhaps, the strongest emotion he has managed to express in a long time — and even that will not last, as he breaks apart their failure and returns it to elements he can use in the future.
One learns from failure, far more than they do from success. He has noted that, about certain groups of people, and intends to do better by Rosaria and any mutual labors they undertake in the future.
Next time, he'll work harder to disguise himself for sure. Considering his iconic and, well, deeply Zenite-associated color scheme, their fates could have been worse. He likes to think being banned from Heliopolis was quite the gentle fate. ]
I will admit, I do not patronize the eateries or bars. In the Abyss, good food was not difficult to come by, but took a while to prepare. Even the time it took to consume it was an inefficient use of my time — hence, I created meal rations with the full caloric intake one might need for a meal.
All that to say: what might you recommend, Miss Rosaria?
[ What could one recommend to someone with such a limited palate? She's got simple tastes herself, so she wouldn't say she's well-versed in all the culinary delights this place has to offer. However, there is one thing that hasn't changed regardless of what world she's in. ]
Wine and steak. The best combination anyone can indulge in.
[ A little simplistic as well, but if done well, she can think of no greater pleasure. That meal is also enough to find, as there are plenty of places in Highstorm with decent to good steaks and wine menus. ]
I'm thinking of one that's easy enough to find.
[ She sends a few mental images of a familiar restaurant-front. More of a bar than a restaurant, but they serve a reasonable amount of food, considering drinks are their actual specialty. ]
That sounds a heart meal, after a challenging day.
[ The flicker of curiosity within his mind is the dim echo of her words: wine and steak, as if such a combination is slightly foreign to him. It is not entirely, but he does not often eat full meals, nor has he splurged on grand courses — his life prior to the Abyss had been difficult, rife with crime, and now? Well, he is enjoying the experiences that companions offer him.
The impression Rosaria passes him about the store she enjoys — he'll be pleased to meet her there within the hour. Easier to enter than the small store he had chosen, his armored body squeezing in through the front doors with the soft, violet glow of all the lighting upon him illuminating his path. Briefly, the violet line upon his mask intensifies, his gaze impossible to track as he looks into the bar — and finds Rosaria, reaching her within moments more. ]
By the way, are you doing well? I saw that Kathova came to assist you from prison, you did not get into further trouble with him or Lady Yima because of our... well, charming failure.
[ Which is what she's used to really, given her failings as a nun over the years. She pats the seat next to her, already having taken her place at the end of a mostly dim and empty bar. It's too early for the usual patronage to have arrived just yet, a fact that suits her well. ]
The steaks are coming up. Make yourself comfortable in the meantime. I can't imagine they gave you much of a warmer reception once you were freed yourself.
[ Even less so because he'd been brandishing purple within Springstar and had already made it obvious he was a convert of recent circumstances. It makes Rosaria feel doubly guilty for dragging him into this, but she had assumed Bondrewd's earnestness and his willingness to become an ambassador would have made him more trustworthy to the Meridian. Given how heavily guarded the tree is, she wouldn't have risked simply sneaking in unless she could somehow turn herself invisible. ]
[ He joins her without protest, the creak of leather and metallic rattle of his armor heralding the way he settles upon the barstool with caution. Not a small man and weighing as much as he does, he is amused at the thought of giving his weight to the stool and it shattering beneath him; thankfully, the furniture is made of sturdier stuff. And Bondrewd is charmed, having not sat among anyone at a bar or tavern in some years now. Not since several years, at least, with the climb back to the surface of the Abyss being what it was. ]
I was met with a degree of unhappiness, from the other Shardbearers. It was impressed upon me that the Tree was of great importance, and I could not agree more — why else would either of them be targets of interest? I am a pious man, myself, and bore no ill-will towards it.
[ Really, he should have sent word ahead that he wanted to visit the Tree. Amos had mentioned as much, and Bondrewd had recognized the haphazard way in which he had approached an important task as an effect of Meridian's energy upon him — it made him a little more eager, and a little less given to cautious thought. ]
That they are so intent upon protecting what is important to them, is undeniably adorable. I was looking forward to reaping the rewards of our work, though. I enjoyed working with you, even in failure, Miss Rosaria. Is that the sort of work you often do?
Sometimes. You do a favor for someone seedy, and they generally cough up good information.
[ Too bad she never got to reap any rewards or find out what that guy in Kowloon wanted the sap for. Not getting answers is more frustrating than she had expected, and her pride has taken a heavy hit from being caught. She should have done a better job at sneaking in –should have gone solo, too. ]
I'm sorry for dragging you with me.
[ As much as she hates doling out apologies, she can at least recognize where and how she fucked up. Though the punishment was light, she still didn't want to compromise the Meridian's trust in Bondrewd by getting him locked up alongside her.
This meal alone will probably not be enough recompense. ]
Would you have remained a Meridian in Springstar had you not helped me?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
EARLY WARQU! time to commiserate.
He leaves the impression of a place to meet, a pleasantly atmospheric and quiet bar near to the venue that reads one's shard and fortune. It is not that place that he invites Rosaria, but the place across the street; dark and smoky, and definitely a location that will look the other way — as the man who awaits her is nearly seven feet tall and armored from head to toe. In the dark of the bar, he glows faintly — the line of his mask, several points along the heavy drape of his mechanical tail, illuminating him in the corner booth where he raises his hand to signal to her. ]
Miss Rosaria.
[ With him, there is a small box of souvenirs from Springstar. An entire sleeve of cigarettes sits at the top, with a note written in circular, foreign script — the writing of Bondrewd's native world. It is that sleeve full of cartons of cigarettes that he holds out to her, immediately upon seeing her approach. ]
I am sorry we were unsuccessful. While I am not aggrieved of our loss, it is disappointing to have lost out on such a good opportunity.
welcomes him with open arms
They've shared a bond. A reluctant one but also one she won't be forgetting anytime soon, so she meets him at the requested spot and slides into the stool next to his hulking form.
A few stares are tossed their way, but it's nothing she's not already used to. A nun and a hulking hunk of armor are bound to get attention no matter where they go, as evidence by how their thieving venture turned out. ]
You owe me no apologies. I was the one who asked you, remember? Which is why I'll be covering the drinks tonight. Order what you want.
[ It's not an offer she extends lightly. ]
no subject
[ To his mind, what she offers is not exactly generous, nor is it kind. Rosaria appears to him a woman who prefers tangible fact, not thoughtful dreams. Bondrewd's disappointment is, perhaps, the strongest emotion he has managed to express in a long time — and even that will not last, as he breaks apart their failure and returns it to elements he can use in the future.
One learns from failure, far more than they do from success. He has noted that, about certain groups of people, and intends to do better by Rosaria and any mutual labors they undertake in the future.
Next time, he'll work harder to disguise himself for sure. Considering his iconic and, well, deeply Zenite-associated color scheme, their fates could have been worse. He likes to think being banned from Heliopolis was quite the gentle fate. ]
I will admit, I do not patronize the eateries or bars. In the Abyss, good food was not difficult to come by, but took a while to prepare. Even the time it took to consume it was an inefficient use of my time — hence, I created meal rations with the full caloric intake one might need for a meal.
All that to say: what might you recommend, Miss Rosaria?
no subject
Wine and steak. The best combination anyone can indulge in.
[ A little simplistic as well, but if done well, she can think of no greater pleasure. That meal is also enough to find, as there are plenty of places in Highstorm with decent to good steaks and wine menus. ]
I'm thinking of one that's easy enough to find.
[ She sends a few mental images of a familiar restaurant-front. More of a bar than a restaurant, but they serve a reasonable amount of food, considering drinks are their actual specialty. ]
Find me there in an hour.
no subject
[ The flicker of curiosity within his mind is the dim echo of her words: wine and steak, as if such a combination is slightly foreign to him. It is not entirely, but he does not often eat full meals, nor has he splurged on grand courses — his life prior to the Abyss had been difficult, rife with crime, and now? Well, he is enjoying the experiences that companions offer him.
The impression Rosaria passes him about the store she enjoys — he'll be pleased to meet her there within the hour. Easier to enter than the small store he had chosen, his armored body squeezing in through the front doors with the soft, violet glow of all the lighting upon him illuminating his path. Briefly, the violet line upon his mask intensifies, his gaze impossible to track as he looks into the bar — and finds Rosaria, reaching her within moments more. ]
By the way, are you doing well? I saw that Kathova came to assist you from prison, you did not get into further trouble with him or Lady Yima because of our... well, charming failure.
no subject
[ Which is what she's used to really, given her failings as a nun over the years. She pats the seat next to her, already having taken her place at the end of a mostly dim and empty bar. It's too early for the usual patronage to have arrived just yet, a fact that suits her well. ]
The steaks are coming up. Make yourself comfortable in the meantime. I can't imagine they gave you much of a warmer reception once you were freed yourself.
[ Even less so because he'd been brandishing purple within Springstar and had already made it obvious he was a convert of recent circumstances. It makes Rosaria feel doubly guilty for dragging him into this, but she had assumed Bondrewd's earnestness and his willingness to become an ambassador would have made him more trustworthy to the Meridian. Given how heavily guarded the tree is, she wouldn't have risked simply sneaking in unless she could somehow turn herself invisible. ]
no subject
[ He joins her without protest, the creak of leather and metallic rattle of his armor heralding the way he settles upon the barstool with caution. Not a small man and weighing as much as he does, he is amused at the thought of giving his weight to the stool and it shattering beneath him; thankfully, the furniture is made of sturdier stuff. And Bondrewd is charmed, having not sat among anyone at a bar or tavern in some years now. Not since several years, at least, with the climb back to the surface of the Abyss being what it was. ]
I was met with a degree of unhappiness, from the other Shardbearers. It was impressed upon me that the Tree was of great importance, and I could not agree more — why else would either of them be targets of interest? I am a pious man, myself, and bore no ill-will towards it.
[ Really, he should have sent word ahead that he wanted to visit the Tree. Amos had mentioned as much, and Bondrewd had recognized the haphazard way in which he had approached an important task as an effect of Meridian's energy upon him — it made him a little more eager, and a little less given to cautious thought. ]
That they are so intent upon protecting what is important to them, is undeniably adorable. I was looking forward to reaping the rewards of our work, though. I enjoyed working with you, even in failure, Miss Rosaria. Is that the sort of work you often do?
no subject
Sometimes. You do a favor for someone seedy, and they generally cough up good information.
[ Too bad she never got to reap any rewards or find out what that guy in Kowloon wanted the sap for. Not getting answers is more frustrating than she had expected, and her pride has taken a heavy hit from being caught. She should have done a better job at sneaking in –should have gone solo, too. ]
I'm sorry for dragging you with me.
[ As much as she hates doling out apologies, she can at least recognize where and how she fucked up. Though the punishment was light, she still didn't want to compromise the Meridian's trust in Bondrewd by getting him locked up alongside her.
This meal alone will probably not be enough recompense. ]
Would you have remained a Meridian in Springstar had you not helped me?