Cianán (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} keenspirit) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} heureuxlake, |
Cianán was definitely too tipsy for good pun work, though snatches of song flitted (appropriately) through his mind just out of reach. "At the very least, some kind of metaphor," he agreed. "Let me know if you come up with it." He'd temporarily forgotten that Heidi didn't necessarily have a way to do that, but he'd live without ever pinning down that particular wordplay. "Flouncy?" he echoed, lips twitching with amusement, not quite certain what 'flouncy' kinds of exercise could even be. Dance? But he could see Heidi dancing, as long as it was modern. "You seem too solid for flouncy." Even a little drunk, that didn't quite make sense.
"I enjoy fast boats," Cianán admitted, "but not cars or planes." Given her point about being good in the air, he felt compelled to add a 'sorry' to the end of that sentence. He couldn't fly, and all he'd been able to think about during the journey was falling from the sky. He preferred speed on the water: a slightly safer element to end up in and much less traffic on the whole than roads. "Sometimes the heat can be enjoyable." As someone who didn't need to eat, he could appreciate small, intense mouthfuls over the kind of filling but unexciting stodge he'd first experienced. "Or the -" He drummed his fingers against his lips, not very effectively conveying a different sort of spice sensation that he'd only experienced once or twice. Her flapping motion was so endearing that Cianán found himself mimicking it as he nodded his understanding of her point.
Frowning in an effort of mental energy, Cianán tried to recall whether or not she'd already mentioned her job. He didn't think so? "What is it you do?" Given the success of his guess as to her active hobbies, he decided to have another go. Something with paperwork, but not exclusively paperwork. Not something academic like Rashmi. "Potter?" He didn't really expect to even be close twice, but she'd seemed so pleased that he didn't read her completely wrong. He wasn't really sure what quotation she was talking about, blinking at her until she seemed to wind herself out of it to a point he could recognise. "To living through joyful bits of history," he agreed, raising his glass.