savannah
you shine in this pitch darkness
that is the butterfly effect
Savannah was the sort that when it came down to it, he didn't much care about how another's evening came up. Didn't have the social graces to truly be allowed into such events anyways [how Absynthe had convinced him to attend was still a mystery to him. Should any one inquire, he would simply claim he was forced under duress. Anyone well enough aware of how his best friend behaved, let alone thought; would only be able to agree with his explanation anyway.] So he'd made his way to the balcony, where there were far fewer bodies pressing against one another as if the social construct of personal space had been removed from their vocabulary. The display was alarmingly distasteful. Back home, their would have been quite the word to assign to such unkempt behaviors, from both the male and female parties involved. This was how reputations got ruined.
He in large part ignored the female to the side of him, his dual-colored gaze pausing only long enough to judge her worth in threat to his peace. While those spines, sharp and likely deadly; were certainly something to keep a close eye upon, she certainly didn't seem the sort to disturb him. Perhaps, if he disturbed her, she would even leave. This event was stupid, anyways. Disgusting displays of wealth, and power, and social status. Cattle brought in to auction for the highest bidder, or rather, future wives for bidding. Was the queen of this land really so foolish to assume this event would be for merriment. The wealthy were practically laughing in her place.
Then the fellow (sorry, dame) at his side turned, and he was forced to meet her gaze. Blue and Pink eyes narrow in dismay at the attention, and her scoff doesn't do much to lighten his mood. Her purr is met on deaf ears, as he instead scoffs in return, his tone one of drawling skepticism, "Bitter? I was aiming for revulsion. I shall have to practice my tone usage at a later date. He responded, his gaze once more drawing out from the balcony. At her casual words of the sky, he pauses to turn his attention upward, at the unfamiliar stars that dance across the heavens. Constellations he isn't familiar with. Where once the sky was a map, an entire spectrum of knowledge his mind could pick apart, now it is a reminder of how far from home he was. "I may find more beauty in them if there were but one constellation I am familiar with. The hassles of crossing dimensions and worlds, alike. But I cannot deny that the setting is not nearly as atrocious as the bodies out on the dance floor attempting to fornicate with out actually partaking in coitus." The mage responds, briefly sneering a disgusted look towards the numerous couples practically throwing themselves at each other.
Oh, wait, this dame was talking to him. He should probably properly acknowledge that. He turns briefly towards her, tilting his head, this time his gaze properly taking in her decorations, the veil 'guising her face, at least loosely. "Savannah Derynn, my name" He finally offers, the faintest dip of his head. He provides no other information, however. What's the point. Too much information could lead others back to him, back into hidey-hole of a workshop, interrupting his normal hermit-like lifestyle of solitary mage work, "You shall have to forgive me for the fact this is not my preference of scenery, nor occasions. I've been . . . forced into attendance by a well meaning friend, who feels as if the hermit lifestyle is unsuited for everyone, despite my objections." It really wasn't fair that he had to be here . . . He had projects back home that he really could be working on instead.
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Fever
Notes: Have an odd little mage <3
