Re: Neighborhood: Carver/Claire
Casual may have been an understatement. It was rare for any of the Inquisition to have seen her outside of her armor. On occasion she was more casual with what could only be considered a leather catsuit, but it was what was worn under said plate armor. Regardless of what she wore, the Bellatora had always been heavily armed, her spear never far from her side. Things had changed. Temperance reached out to take the box from Carver and smiled brightly, "How are they doing? The last I saw Eloise she was trying to tune that organ in the chapel but there were sparrows nesting inside."
She knew he was different than the other Inquisition members. No one would have told her that they were here to spy on her. He was either the best there was and confident in his abilities to read her like a book, or he was genuinely good. Temperance was leaning towards the latter. Perhaps it was hopeful thinking, but she would love to have someone to talk to that understood. Maybe he appeared cloaked in seriousness, but on the forum he had been so easy to talk to. So easy to be honest with. Okay, and she also liked the leather jacket on him, but that was entirely superficial.
"You've been gone an entire week. How did these last?" She grinned at him with playful tease and picked up two glasses from the top of the liquor cabinet (the interior was sparse, too sparse to necessitate an entire cabinet, but there was little other use for the cute antique). Both of the goblets were hand blown glass, one in deep red and the other royal blue, golden swirls dancing down the crystal clear stems of each. They were set down on the table where he was opening the bottle, and she sat down on the couch to open the box.
Her face lit up even more as she pulled the shawl out, and those faded black knit gloves ran over delicate woven wool. "It's beautiful," she murmured as she admired the handiwork. And the color? One of her favorites. For just as obvious reasons. "Thank you for bringing this to me." The rush of homesickness hit hard, a faint smell of incense clinging to the wool, and she wondered if this shawl was too precious for her. After all, she was a monster.
A small sigh, and her attention was on Carver once more. The box found its way onto the table, but the shawl stayed on her lap. Crossword puzzle was collected and laid aside so she could pat the couch cushion near her, "Have a seat. Are we forgetting or discussing over drinks?"