It’s obvious the gypsy-coined man is foreign to Delumine, from his musky scent to the strange lilt in his voice. Even the way he stands, enthralled as he was with the inner workings of the Court, and the wonder carrying over on his voice give him away as someone with little experience of the Dawn Court way of life.
But there is no scoffing, no judgement passed by Ipomoea. On the contrary he is delighted, wanting little more than to take the man by his hand and lead him further in. To march him past the gates and into the fray, proudly showing off his home and inviting the newcomer to stay a while, to find the same joy and welcome he himself has within the northern border. And Reichenbach, with his easy smile and easy words and the set way by which he stood, almost as if getting ready to jump right in himself, seemed not the type to deny Po the honor of guide.
But he remains composed (for now), the spreading of his smile and the crease at his eyes the primary display of the boy’s enthusiasm.
“You’ve come on a good day,” he agreed, bobbing his head along pleasantly. “The merchants and busybodies are out in force today because of the good weather.” His attention shifts, sneaking a peak at the stranger’s dark face while he was busying studying the streets. It was handsome indeed, all strong lines and subtle depths giving him a rather exotic look here in the land of sages. He inhaled as if to speak, and Po found himself leaning forward in subconscious anticipation—before both their attentions were diverted.
Ipomoea found the source almost immediately, the King’s regal pose standing out amongst the crowd as a beacon. As always, he watched the sovereign’s careful diplomacy in wonder, amazed at the skill by which he passed his fair judgements. “My lord,” he greeted respectfully, warmth filling his tone at the familiar face despite the awkwardness of the formality on his tongue (for Po was still uncertain how to address him.)
“This is King Kasil of Delumine,” he spoke to Reichenbach, taking it upon himself to make the formal introductions, despite Reich seeming to already recognize the Sovereign. “And I am Ipomoea, his Emissary.” His own title still felt foreign rolling from his lips, but repetition remained the only way to get over it; a slight shake of his head and he had moved past it.
@reichenbach @kasil
i am back n ready to post!!
i don’t remember if this was before or after he was appointed but it just kind of fit!
“I’m here!”
But there is no scoffing, no judgement passed by Ipomoea. On the contrary he is delighted, wanting little more than to take the man by his hand and lead him further in. To march him past the gates and into the fray, proudly showing off his home and inviting the newcomer to stay a while, to find the same joy and welcome he himself has within the northern border. And Reichenbach, with his easy smile and easy words and the set way by which he stood, almost as if getting ready to jump right in himself, seemed not the type to deny Po the honor of guide.
But he remains composed (for now), the spreading of his smile and the crease at his eyes the primary display of the boy’s enthusiasm.
“You’ve come on a good day,” he agreed, bobbing his head along pleasantly. “The merchants and busybodies are out in force today because of the good weather.” His attention shifts, sneaking a peak at the stranger’s dark face while he was busying studying the streets. It was handsome indeed, all strong lines and subtle depths giving him a rather exotic look here in the land of sages. He inhaled as if to speak, and Po found himself leaning forward in subconscious anticipation—before both their attentions were diverted.
Ipomoea found the source almost immediately, the King’s regal pose standing out amongst the crowd as a beacon. As always, he watched the sovereign’s careful diplomacy in wonder, amazed at the skill by which he passed his fair judgements. “My lord,” he greeted respectfully, warmth filling his tone at the familiar face despite the awkwardness of the formality on his tongue (for Po was still uncertain how to address him.)
“This is King Kasil of Delumine,” he spoke to Reichenbach, taking it upon himself to make the formal introductions, despite Reich seeming to already recognize the Sovereign. “And I am Ipomoea, his Emissary.” His own title still felt foreign rolling from his lips, but repetition remained the only way to get over it; a slight shake of his head and he had moved past it.
@reichenbach @kasil
i am back n ready to post!!
i don’t remember if this was before or after he was appointed but it just kind of fit!
“I’m here!”
manip by rhiann
