Aspel Cassul: When in doubt, Aspel! (weaponry) wrote in emillion, |
He hadn’t expected to see Aspel, but the surprise was pleasant. He gave her hand a squeeze without thought and gave Mag a smile. The number of times he’d spoken to Mag could be counted on one hand, and while he didn’t have a problem with her - she was quite nice from what he could tell, and really close to Aspel - he wasn’t entirely sure what to say outside of hello. “Oh man, more festival games?” He grinned at Aspel and shook his head. “I wish you all the best of luck getting Mag a chocobo friend for her Marl-” There was a pause as he realized what he was about to say. Frowning, he turned to Mag. “Did you say Marlboro?” What was it with women wanting plushies of horrible creatures that weren’t even cute? At least the flan was just a blob. Marlboro had tentacles. Drake shuddered. And before he forgot, he gave Ari a look. “You can win Mog and Glinda a friend yourself.” He was teasing, of course; if Ari found a plush she wanted, he’d win it for her. After all, that’s what a good friend did, right? But now that he was thinking about it… “Should I win you a plush, Aspel?” “So, we’re to have a repeat of the Festival of Lions, are we?” Ari asked, rising on her toes for a moment to brush a light kiss over Aspel’s cheek in turn. If they were going to act normal, she was certainly up to the challenge. She thought briefly of the invitation she had almost extended this morning. Would it have been this strange if she had? But the thought of being told no… not to mention other issues which she had not yet entirely resolved… Perhaps this accidental run-in was for the best, after all. “You know I can’t aim to save my life, Drakey. I leave the task of winning in your very capable hands. I’ll just stand back and… encourage you. Or tease you, as the case might be. This is the rematch of the century, after all.” She smiled at Aspel, then added for Mag’s benefit, “They had a bit of a competition at the Festival of Lions. Aspel won spectacularly.” Fortunately, they were near the game booths already. “Let’s see, how about this -- for my contribution, I’ll buy the winners drinks instead. Of their choice,” she added, for Drake’s benefit; there was probably a non-alcoholic cider in a tent catering to children somewhere, though she thought it rather a waste. “A terrible pity really.” Aspel chimed in on the tail end of Mag’s comment about her Marlboro being lonely. “All sorts deserve company, no?” Though, a chocobo and a Marlboro consorting seemed a terribly queer thing at best. Well, there probably were stranger things in the world. The commentary regarding strange creatures would be left alone, but the new bit did cause a smirk to form. “If you choose not to win something for her, then I suspect I must. It would be a dreadfully sorrowful tale for such a lovely young bard to go home empty handed, would you not agree?” However, the sudden offer of if she’d like something won for her caused the briefest flash of confusion. When had anyone offered to win her anything? “If you wish.” A cant of her head was given, and an idle wave of hand. “Ah, I suspect so.” Would be all the smith would give to Ari’s commentary regarding the previous festival and rematches. “I did start before him.” Aspel had no shame in pointing out. If they started at the same time, perhaps he wouldn’t lose so miserably this time, she had had a rather unfair advantage. The offer of drinks did cause a single eyebrow to raise. What a curious addition. “If we are to resolve this in one method or another, I do fear we may need to move appropriately.” A slight rising of her chin would gesture back towards the games. After all, one had to play to win. |