Tristan T. Travers (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} alliterative) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} finnigans_rpg, |
Stirring the sugar, Tristan continued to listen to Cho as she spoke. He didn't know much about event and party planning, though he could imagine it was not a stress-free occupation. From what he learned at Wingbeat, some people could be needlessly demanding and picky. He assumed it was something that was magnified when those sorts of people were planning events and outsourcing some of the process to a company with the purpose of putting events together. He wondered if it were better for everyone if they did that, or if people would be better off not having to be hired by such personalities.
"Oh?" he said, eyebrows raised at the mention of her seeing someone. What was good, right? He thought it was. If she were mentioning it, it had to be. Or maybe she was just being polite... "I hope it's going well," he said sincerely, giving her a small, kind smile. "Even if it's unusual territory, I do hope it's all going well."
He didn't blame her for the subject change, though, secretly, he wished she'd changed it to anything else. He took another cautious sip of his tea before shrugging and saying, "I did, yeah. More than I'd known prior. Now I'm learning about the cloakroom and checking cloaks." He kept his voice light and expression open, friendly. "From what I can tell, this face," he waved his hand up to indicate his face, "is better at convincing people to check their cloaks they might have otherwise kept at home than selling them cocktails they're already going to buy."