[AW] two types of summer

[Nicnevin]

YOU WILL NOT TAME THIS SEA
either by humility or rapture. / But you can laugh / in its face.

I must have been here for hours. It doesn’t feel like it’s been so long at all.

My night haze been a haze of glittering lights, stars and gilded lanterns alike, one-half gilded daydream and one-half claustrophobic nightmare. It’s so- different. Parties at home were smaller, warmer. This party is beautiful in the same way that a poisonous flower is beautiful. That is to say – it is bright as a warning sign.

I was too dazzled to notice, at first.

But I’m content to stumble through it. I’m unimportant, irrelevant – maybe a bit too eye-catching, with my coat of autumn leaves and my cascades of red curls and my wings and my horns and my odd eyes, all a thousand times more striking than I’m accustomed to, but I’m no public figure. In fact – I’m a stranger to everyone I’ve encountered at this party, to every glamorous personage I’ve locked eyes with. I’ve been in Novus a matter of weeks. I barely know anyone – and barely anyone knows me. It isn’t lonely, but I’m still deciding whether or not it’s a virtue.

I’ve noticed the painters a few times, as I’ve circled the party throughout the evening. I’ve even watched their work from a distance. I’ve never seen designs like the ones that they’re painting before; I assume they must be cultural, and it makes me want to take a closer look, though I’m never quite brave enough to engage them. (And – well, I can hear their voices from a distance, and their accents are so thick and so unfamiliar that I honestly can’t make out a word they’re saying, so, even if I do have questions, there doesn’t seem to be much of a point in asking them.)

I’m watching the painters, again – and I must have strayed a bit closer than usual, because this time one of them walks up to me, though he strikes me as less of an artist and more of a canvas. He’s young, relatively, probably around my age, though a bit older; somewhere on the precipice of manhood. He’s striking, too. It’s not just the dark rosettes on his body, or his lithe form, or the elaborate artwork swirled across his frame. It’s a matter of presence. He carries himself with a kind of indulgence that suggests that he wants to be seen.

That is to say: of course I noticed him, each time I looked over at the painters.

(I notice the way the reds and golds painted across his flanks match my eyes.)

And now he’s approached me, an oh-so bold smile twisted across his lips. “How may I help you?” His voice is all honey and silk, darkly inviting, and I piece together his intentions almost immediately.

He’s laying it on thick, I think – but he’s pretty, so I don’t mind.

I incline my head at him, red hair twisting to frame my face, and I return his smile with one of my own; in all the places where his is dark, mine is midday-bright and sweet, but my lashes flutter, faintly, when I say, “Well, I was thinking that I’d like to have my coat painted,” I say, slowly, deliberately – my eyes drifting the length of his frame. “I don’t suppose you know how?”

He winks. I’m caught between finding it charming and laughable, but I’m certainly willing to play along: with a coy tilt of my head, which sends that red hair falling in just the right way. "Unfortunately for you, the artists are otherwise preoccupied. Although, I have to count that as my fortune. What brings you to our party, then?” His smile grows, if that is even possible. (It occurs to me, dully, that he must be one of the hosts – one of the Ieshans, one of the Princes. I suppose it makes sense. He looks quite like a prince should, I think.)

“Oh,” I say, still smiling, “I think it might be my fortune instead. I’m Nicnevin – I came to see the desert…and because I heard that there would be good music and good company.” A hint of amusement works its way into my tone. “But I find myself curious – are you the good kind of company, or the bad one?”

My head cocks – the tilt halfway-innocent and not innocent at all.

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@Corradh || pretty sure that Nic finds him hysterical ||

"Speech!" 

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