ness is right, it does take gwenaëlle longer. she emerges from the fortress, a diminutive brunette with pinned back curls, not looking immediately much like a captain of the watch in tightly-laced burgundy with summer-weight skirts hitched with hikes, carrying a packet of papers beneath her arm that's probably not got anything to do with their particular ends. the closer she gets, the more striking: the burned-in claw scars that drag down her decolletage from beneath the low neckline of her dress, the blank, golden eye that sees nothing beside the amber one that measures ness on first impression.
there is a knife at her hip. it is improbable that the only visible knife is the only one on her. )
Ennaris, ( she greets, voice and accent both distinct; the name isn't difficult to pronounce, but if she hadn't made a particular effort to mimic the way ness had said it, it'd probably have sounded more changed by her high quarter orlesian voice. ) Thank you for waiting.
( (she smells nice, brushing past her to lead them onto the deck, and up the porch steps.)
there's a key in the chatelaine at her waist, and the ... uniquely idiosyncratic nature of the houseboat's exterior gives way to luxuriously plush interiors, costly and particular. the most striking thing, first of all, is the portrait that occupies the far wall of the foyer: a beautiful elven woman of indeterminate age, wearing a loose man's shirt that covers her to upper thigh slid down a shoulder, sat in a plush armchair as if it's a throne and regarding the viewer with a confidently unreadable gaze. she bears a striking resemblance to the mistress of the boat, and a glance will confirm: the necklace hanging around her throat hangs around gwenaëlle's. )
La Souveraineté, ( she says, with an expansive gesture. check out her sick boat. a mildly alarming looking cat (sort of bald, sort of... not exactly bald? looks like if a werewolf had a furball that was a cat,) strolls to the doorway of the gallery adjacent, examines ness and gwenaëlle with equal diffidence, and then swishes its tail and leaves, unmoved. )
action ∞
ness is right, it does take gwenaëlle longer. she emerges from the fortress, a diminutive brunette with pinned back curls, not looking immediately much like a captain of the watch in tightly-laced burgundy with summer-weight skirts hitched with hikes, carrying a packet of papers beneath her arm that's probably not got anything to do with their particular ends. the closer she gets, the more striking: the burned-in claw scars that drag down her decolletage from beneath the low neckline of her dress, the blank, golden eye that sees nothing beside the amber one that measures ness on first impression.
there is a knife at her hip. it is improbable that the only visible knife is the only one on her. )
Ennaris, ( she greets, voice and accent both distinct; the name isn't difficult to pronounce, but if she hadn't made a particular effort to mimic the way ness had said it, it'd probably have sounded more changed by her high quarter orlesian voice. ) Thank you for waiting.
( (she smells nice, brushing past her to lead them onto the deck, and up the porch steps.)
there's a key in the chatelaine at her waist, and the ... uniquely idiosyncratic nature of the houseboat's exterior gives way to luxuriously plush interiors, costly and particular. the most striking thing, first of all, is the portrait that occupies the far wall of the foyer: a beautiful elven woman of indeterminate age, wearing a loose man's shirt that covers her to upper thigh slid down a shoulder, sat in a plush armchair as if it's a throne and regarding the viewer with a confidently unreadable gaze. she bears a striking resemblance to the mistress of the boat, and a glance will confirm: the necklace hanging around her throat hangs around gwenaëlle's. )
La Souveraineté, ( she says, with an expansive gesture. check out her sick boat. a mildly alarming looking cat (sort of bald, sort of... not exactly bald? looks like if a werewolf had a furball that was a cat,) strolls to the doorway of the gallery adjacent, examines ness and gwenaëlle with equal diffidence, and then swishes its tail and leaves, unmoved. )