Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-03-27 12:45:00 |
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The prospect of seeing an old friend again -- the new year was only a few days old, and already, so many changes! -- had Ari hurrying, which meant that she arrived at the Duckling less than ten minutes past the hour. Considering she had rolled out of bed an hour earlier, she really thought her punctuality should be commended. Still, when she scanned the tavern’s tabl;es for a familiar head of blonde hair, she spotted her almost immediately -- here first, as always. Ari made her way to the table, taking a seat with a bright smile. “Yes,” she said, reaching to give Scarlet’s hand a brief squeeze, “I am late, as usual, despite my promise. Take this as a matter of comfort that not everything in Emillion is different since your return.” The half-empty mug of beer in front of her friend indicated that she had either been here for quite some time, or was intent on a buzz this early in the day. It had been long enough that Ari couldn’t be certain which it was. Giving the other woman a frank appraisal, she said, “You’re looking good for someone who has been on the road for awhile.” Scarlet, who had considered actual breakfast, decided a pint of beer would do instead. Taking Ari’s punctuality into consideration, she had arrived at the Duckling no more than half an hour ago, and had somehow moved onto her second glass. Oops. As Ari arrived, a soft smile came across the girl’s icy eyes and hard features, and the younger Beau squeezed back with her hand. “No, you’re just in time.” Minutes later, several small dishes of food would arrive. Ari’s bright aura had cheered Scarlet up in a matter of seconds, though she wasn’t sure what she should be cheerful about. Seeing her old friend, yes, and perhaps being back in her hometown, but when Scarlet had first left on her journey to return to Emillion, she had felt a sense of dread. Three years shouldn’t have been a long time, but much had happened since then. She was realizing how selfish she was to have thought things had only changed so much for her; childhood friends, acquaintances, and family all had changes of their own. “Not so bad yourself either, Chiaro.” Not that Scarlet didn’t know how to take a compliment, but deflecting was almost an immediate reaction. “Oh, I’m Chiaro now, am I?” Ari teased. “So cold, Scarlet. Did the road do that to you? Have more beer, it should help.” It would serve as a means of relaxing, at any rate. “I’m not drinking at the moment, sadly, but I’ll have a coffee, whenever the waiter gets back around to us.” It was a busy lunch hour, so she had to assume it might be a little while. “So,” she said, resting her elbows on the table, interlacing her fingers, and resting her chin on them, “I believe I am to serve as your source of random and meaningful tidbits about the people and places you haven’t seen for some time. Where shall I start?” Her whole life had changed between Scarlet’s departure and now, it sometimes seemed. No. Her coldness had not come from her travels, but from other people. Scarlet was no fool, nor naive. She knew the repercussions of her decision, but had not expected the repercussions to have come so harshly from where it did. Before her thoughts slipped into a darker place, Scarlet smiled, this time, one much different than the one that had greeted Ari only moments ago. “Cheers,” she said, toasting the beer in her friend’s direction before taking a sip. There weren’t many were drinking at this hour, not even at the tavern. It probably was for the best. “Start with yourself, of course.” Setting down her pint glass, she made eye contact with a passing waiter, giving him a gesture that they required assistance. “Then perhaps my brother next.” “Asking for personal information right at the start?” Ari asked with a rather sly expression on her face. “All right, I’ll tell you what’s been happening with me -- and with your brother, of whom I have seen quite a lot recently, as a matter of fact -- but such precious information doesn’t come free,” she warned. “The currency of choice is stories. You tell me where you’ve been, what you’ve seen, and what you’ve been doing, and I’ll tell you everything you could possibly want to know about both me and my little marshmallow -- a name that should be used for your brother forever if only because of how much he loves being called by the name of something soft and fluffy.” It wasn’t as though Scarlet’s choice of class was an issue for Ari -- demonstrably, as she was here -- and so she saw no reason for the evasive maneuvers with her. And she would usually ferret out a good story at the end, one way or another. Only someone like Ari could get away with calling Rivalen a marshmallow; she was probably also the only person to equate someone like Rivalen to something sweet and soft. “Fair,” she conceded, though Scarlet wasn’t sure where to start. She had many adventures on her own, some missions and jobs, but a lot of learning and growing up on her own as well. She had a better understanding of who she was, now that others thought they knew her better than she did. And so she started her story, a simple, but satisfying version. Scarlet didn’t go into details, and it was all rather dry. She went to stay with her Fell Knight uncle, though that had been a challenge in and of itself, having been estranged from the family. There were people she had met along the way, missions she went on, the training that she was put through before being disciplined enough to continue it on her own. There was nothing mentioned about friends or romance, largely in part because Scarlet had kept much to her own. Socializing had not been a priority. Ari was good at talking, but she could listen, too. The stories continued as the waiter came, departed, returned with coffee and food. As she ate, Ari took note of what was mentioned and what was left out, and drew her own conclusions (Scarlet’s sojourn had been, by her estimate, a very lonely one). She didn’t voice her thoughts, of course, only said, “It certainly sounds like you’ve been busy. We’ll have to see how life in Emillion compares to your adventures.” Taking another sip of her coffee, she added, “And of course, a promise is a promise. The marshmallow first, I think.” She had no doubt he was a point of particular interest with Scarlet, far more than her own doings (even if her friend would never admit as much). “Let’s see… not too long ago, we worked an escort mission together, and I had to heal him up -- not from battle, mind you -- but from the ignominious achievement of falling into a ditch on the way to the rendezvous point…” |