[ This continues to be strange. Baizhu, asking what her favorite flower is. Marco, asking about foods she enjoys. Hamel hasn't thought of preferences in years, pausing to scan the menu in the mindset of a dancer. In terms of food like that... ]
... It should probably be a salad. Though, carbohydrates...
[ Well, it's both answering the question and not, isn't it-- ]
[ he has no concept of the training and discipline it would take to keep up a certain body type. it's not as if athletics is a thing back in ergastulum. most of the time, people were happy to eat at all. ]
...I understand. I won't dissuade you if you think it's for the best, but.
[ but. ]
Will one meal really make that much of a difference?
[ There are certainly people like that in DisCity, too. Particularly Syndicate. Hamel's fame and abilities had been enough to ensure she ate, though strictly so. As for the rest of the money...
... That much doesn't matter much, anymore. Not in the scheme of things. ]
It could encourage me to shirk healthier meals in the future. [ Firmly. ] Though I intend to do my usual stretching and practice tomorrow morning. But...
[ marco is of the opinion hamel has much stronger discipline than that, if she's managed to hold out for this long, but he's not about to go around acting like he knows people better than they know themselves.
besides, she seems ready to make a concession regardless. he has no designs to be anyone's devil on their shoulder, but he thinks after all of this, a little treat can't hurt.
he meets those uncertain eyes with a smile. just in time for a waiter to come over, asking for their orders. ]
Two of the house salads, please. [ he catches hamel's eye over the menus as they're taken back. ] For now.
[ She somehow gets the distinct impression that she might be getting indulged right now, and a hint of color appears in her face; it takes all of her courage not to duck her head in embarrassment, but somehow, Hamel manages. ]
I hope you didn't get a salad because I made you feel self-conscious or anything... I don't think I know your preferred foods yet, Marco.
[ If it's a date, she might as well take this time to get to know him a little better, too. ]
[ is the main reason for his choice to make things less awkward for her in the long run? obviously. he wouldn't feel at all okay if he were to order something more rich and laden with fat, while she had to suffer through her determination. but that isn't the reason he gives her, though it should be noted that the reason he does give isn't untrue either. ]
Fresh produce is a rarity where I'm from. A salad is an indulgence for me, don't worry.
[ will it be the most filling? no. is it a bit of a waste for his free meal as a lowly 2 rank? probably. but all that doesn't matter, in the moment. ]
Though I'm partial to pastas. A coworker of mine would make great butter noodles.
[ Not Marco chucking away the opportunity for delicious meat and pasta for Hamel's sake????
She gazes at him very solemnly from across the table, as though she's not entirely convinced by his reassurances, that she thinks he may be prioritizing her a little too much here, but she doesn't know him well enough yet to bring that up. ]
Oh... pasta is also very delicious. [ Carbs! ] Though I've never had homemade ones before. If the salad isn't filling enough for you, we could share a plate?
[ Pasta is also acceptable for a dancer, apparently. ]
[ there's a moment's pause where marco returns that look of hers, though perhaps a touch more critical. he is not entirely sure her acquiescence regarding the pasta isn't entirely for his sake. it's rare indeed to find someone just as willing to inconvenience oneself for another.
is there room enough in this town for the both of them..........
survey says: yes. his expression clears, and he inclines his head in something of a resigned nod. a compromise, then. ]
That sounds like a great idea. Pasta dishes tend to be pretty large servings anyway.
[ In before the servers make them "Lady and the Tramp" it... ]
That's true. More often than not, I'd be able to eat a small portion of it an hour or so before I'd need to dance, and that was more than enough for me. [ But see! See! She eats pasta, he doesn't have to think she's doing it for his sake entirely, even though she is definitely doing it in this case because he brought it up!
anyway, here he was, already halfway to wondering if there were any ballrooms within the resort to take her to, should she wish to work off some of the carbs and feel less guilty about their choices here
but then she goes and asks him that, and the very thought has him bubbling out a laugh. ]
Me? No, no, I don't... I mean I've never tried, but I'm not really...
[ "graceful," he'd been about to say, but he remembers how striker used to describe the way he fought, and be swallows that back with a rough clearing of his throat. ]
I don't think so. [ Thoughtfully, and here's where Marco gets to be a little uncomfortable as Hamel's eyes gain a bit of pensive light. ]
The way you carry yourself suggests both awareness and comfort of your body and its movements. You don't appear to be physically inactive. There's a distance but also a warmth to your demeanor... I think you would be attentive, as a partner.
So even if you haven't tried to dance before, I think you might take to it better than you think.
[ --And then she realizes this might sound like pressuring. ]
--Ah. That is, if you were ever interested in trying...
[ he's more than a little stunned by her astute observation — both due to its uncanniness, but also because of its... almost gentle perspective. he hasn't quite heard his physicality described so tenderly. ]
...I see.
[ he ducks his head, smothering a small smile. well? why not, given everything else he's been made to do here? he might as well try something outside of his comfort zone that's by his own choice. ]
In that case, if you wouldn't mind teaching me, I would be honored to try it with you.
[ Oh. Perhaps that's a smile but it's too difficult to tell without Hamel leaning in closely to investigate, and she's nowhere near bold nor shameless enough for that.
Her own gaze softens, into something a little happier. For all that she's been forced to dance and not in the way she would have chosen... ]
I've found that dancing is one of the easiest ways to communicate. So I would be more than happy to teach you.
[ unlike hamel, marco has an easier time discerning the softness lighting up her eyes. he feels buoyed by it, prompting him to make his next suggestion, and momentarily forget what a disaster it might all end up being. ]
Then, if you have no other plans after this, would you like to have our very first lesson?
[ first and last, lbr. marco has no delusions he'd make a very good student, so he imagines it would be a brief stint, if only to humor him. ]
[ He's about to learn that Hamel doesn't need him to be a good dancer to let him Dance.
But for all that her gazes might be more subtle, there's no mistaking the way she brightens now, once he's made an offer. She would have been fine making plans for another day, but to offer it immediately after their meal?
Congratulations, Marco. This is a rare level of delight for her. ]
[ now where the hell did all this sunlight come from—
no, but it's certainly quite the shift, isn't it? marco is a little taken aback by it at first. it's not as if he can claim to know hamel all that well, but he's certainly only ever seen her in a more subdued light. he thinks, just now, that he might have just gotten a preview of her when she's dancing... to think that she could find so much joy in the mere teaching of a simpleton like him. it makes him that much more glad he ever brought it up in the first place. ]
I'm sure we'll find a room around here big enough.
[ She's easing back into the usual quiet, almost as though that moment of joy was but a brief twinkle in the sky. Something that might have been imagined. ]
When I dance, I can create illusions. They won't harm you and you won't see anything to impact your mental state [ except her naked, maybe ] but within that, music should exist as well. If that's all right with you.
[ She's aware it might be a little overwhelming. ]
[ it should be noted there had been a definitive pause before answering. but that at least implies he'd really thought it through, as opposed to just saying what he thinks she wants. he doesn't know much of illusions (that aren't prompted by grief, or stress, or both) but he supposes if he's to be submitted to one, he can find no better person to guide him along than hamel herself.
she didn't seem particularly cruel, after all.
they lapse into an easy and expected lull when the food arrives. perhaps just as expectedly, the salads weren't too filling at all, and so a shared pasta plate is eventually ordered to fill in the gap. overall, the dinner is a cozy, pleasant thing, though perhaps it is far more casual than the house expects from a date...
because no sooner than marco had stood beside hamel's chair to pull it back for her as she stands, does the lovely dress she wears suddenly flicker out of existence, and he's left staring down at what is certainly not meant for public attention. ]
M-Miss Hamel—!
[ after a brief shock he reacts impulsively, grabbing at the long tablecloth just within reach to draw it over her, covering her from the neck down. it's... quite the commotion, and all their finished plates and glasses go clattering to the floor, some breaking in the process. ]
[ is all Hamel can get out, a bit blankly, when Marco suddenly panics and whips the tablecloth from its god-given place on the table to draw it over her instead. And it's perhaps very clear that she has no idea why he decided to do that, because as far as she's concerned, her dress has never left her body (yet).
The shattering of a couple of the glasses startles her more, backing up a little against Marco in her shock (though she's at least now got a tablecloth over her, saving his eyes apparently). ]
Marco?? Did--something happen?
[ Well, now everyone, diners and waitstaff are staring at the both of them. ]
[ for someone who values pragmatism and forethought, he most certainly did not think this shit through. all around them, the din quiets into an almost deafening silence, as several patrons turn in their seat and blatantly ogle. marco stands, feet planted firmly on the ground, but feeling oddly weightless as if he were floating along in the air, the only thing tethering him to the ground the solid press of hamel's petite body against his.
he is very keenly aware of a heat crawling up the back of his neck, curling around his ears. ]
I'm — not sure.
[ his voice is quiet, hushed. though he knows they've already got the entire restaurant's attention, he doesn't dare raise his next words louder than a whisper, muttered close to her ear. ]
I thought... no, I'm certain... you were unclothed. Just now.
[ he could, of course, check. but he's definitely not going to?! ]
[ Hamel blinks rapidly, then moves the tablecloth just enough to glance down.
And her dress is still there. Where it's been. She'd know if it suddenly vanished, wouldn't she? Was she too deeply distracted to have noticed? More importantly, is he okay?
Tentatively, just as quiet, even though everyone is still staring at them-- ]
I... seem to be dressed. Does it look differently to you?
standing rigid, he whips his head back towards a random spot in the restaurant — some hanging lantern or windchime or some other kind of decoration he honestly couldn't tell you right now it could be a hanging ballsack for all that he's actually paying attention— ]
[ Ideally, he'll do this. As there's the shuffling and the sound of things being shifted and Hamel stepping away to very quietly murmur to the closest server. It may cost... a few more chips than the voucher, because the voucher did not know how to cover broken tableware and someone pilfering a tablecloth, and maybe she might have agreed to come back at a later date to wash dishes for a bit, but.
Regardless, he doesn't need to hear most of that, and Hamel murmurs an apology before carefully taking Marco's hand and guiding him through the restaurant. As they exit-- ]
Will this work?
[ She has fashioned the tablecloth into a fine, draping dress over her regular dress. And by "fine", I mean it's quite obviously a tablecloth, but she did her best. ]
I should be able to remedy it in the illusion, but I'm not sure how to resolve it now...
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
... It should probably be a salad. Though, carbohydrates...
[ Well, it's both answering the question and not, isn't it-- ]
no subject
..."Probably," Miss Hamel?
no subject
But I also should eat a certain way, as a dancer. It's the only skill I'm good at.
[ She very much said that matter-of-factly. ]
no subject
...I understand. I won't dissuade you if you think it's for the best, but.
[ but. ]
Will one meal really make that much of a difference?
no subject
... That much doesn't matter much, anymore. Not in the scheme of things. ]
It could encourage me to shirk healthier meals in the future. [ Firmly. ] Though I intend to do my usual stretching and practice tomorrow morning. But...
[ ... Her eyes lift, a little uncertainly. ]
If they had ice cream, perhaps, afterward...
no subject
besides, she seems ready to make a concession regardless. he has no designs to be anyone's devil on their shoulder, but he thinks after all of this, a little treat can't hurt.
he meets those uncertain eyes with a smile. just in time for a waiter to come over, asking for their orders. ]
Two of the house salads, please. [ he catches hamel's eye over the menus as they're taken back. ] For now.
no subject
I hope you didn't get a salad because I made you feel self-conscious or anything... I don't think I know your preferred foods yet, Marco.
[ If it's a date, she might as well take this time to get to know him a little better, too. ]
no subject
Fresh produce is a rarity where I'm from. A salad is an indulgence for me, don't worry.
[ will it be the most filling? no. is it a bit of a waste for his free meal as a lowly 2 rank? probably. but all that doesn't matter, in the moment. ]
Though I'm partial to pastas. A coworker of mine would make great butter noodles.
no subject
She gazes at him very solemnly from across the table, as though she's not entirely convinced by his reassurances, that she thinks he may be prioritizing her a little too much here, but she doesn't know him well enough yet to bring that up. ]
Oh... pasta is also very delicious. [ Carbs! ] Though I've never had homemade ones before. If the salad isn't filling enough for you, we could share a plate?
[ Pasta is also acceptable for a dancer, apparently. ]
no subject
is there room enough in this town for the both of them..........
survey says: yes. his expression clears, and he inclines his head in something of a resigned nod. a compromise, then. ]
That sounds like a great idea. Pasta dishes tend to be pretty large servings anyway.
no subject
That's true. More often than not, I'd be able to eat a small portion of it an hour or so before I'd need to dance, and that was more than enough for me. [ But see! See! She eats pasta, he doesn't have to think she's doing it for his sake entirely, even though she is definitely doing it in this case because he brought it up!
It's fine, they're both not admitting to it. ]
Have you ever danced, Marco?
no subject
anyway, here he was, already halfway to wondering if there were any ballrooms within the resort to take her to, should she wish to work off some of the carbs and feel less guilty about their choices here
but then she goes and asks him that, and the very thought has him bubbling out a laugh. ]
Me? No, no, I don't... I mean I've never tried, but I'm not really...
[ "graceful," he'd been about to say, but he remembers how striker used to describe the way he fought, and be swallows that back with a rough clearing of his throat. ]
I doubt I'd be very good at it.
no subject
I don't think so. [ Thoughtfully, and here's where Marco gets to be a little uncomfortable as Hamel's eyes gain a bit of pensive light. ]
The way you carry yourself suggests both awareness and comfort of your body and its movements. You don't appear to be physically inactive. There's a distance but also a warmth to your demeanor... I think you would be attentive, as a partner.
So even if you haven't tried to dance before, I think you might take to it better than you think.
[ --And then she realizes this might sound like pressuring. ]
--Ah. That is, if you were ever interested in trying...
no subject
...I see.
[ he ducks his head, smothering a small smile. well? why not, given everything else he's been made to do here? he might as well try something outside of his comfort zone that's by his own choice. ]
In that case, if you wouldn't mind teaching me, I would be honored to try it with you.
no subject
Her own gaze softens, into something a little happier. For all that she's been forced to dance and not in the way she would have chosen... ]
I've found that dancing is one of the easiest ways to communicate. So I would be more than happy to teach you.
[ In the end, Hamel still loves to dance. ]
no subject
Then, if you have no other plans after this, would you like to have our very first lesson?
[ first and last, lbr. marco has no delusions he'd make a very good student, so he imagines it would be a brief stint, if only to humor him. ]
no subject
But for all that her gazes might be more subtle, there's no mistaking the way she brightens now, once he's made an offer. She would have been fine making plans for another day, but to offer it immediately after their meal?
Congratulations, Marco. This is a rare level of delight for her. ]
Yes, of course!
sry sry i'll skip dinner in the next tag!
no, but it's certainly quite the shift, isn't it? marco is a little taken aback by it at first. it's not as if he can claim to know hamel all that well, but he's certainly only ever seen her in a more subdued light. he thinks, just now, that he might have just gotten a preview of her when she's dancing... to think that she could find so much joy in the mere teaching of a simpleton like him. it makes him that much more glad he ever brought it up in the first place. ]
I'm sure we'll find a room around here big enough.
[ oh? ]
Though I don't know what we'd do about music...
I'll forgive you
[ She's easing back into the usual quiet, almost as though that moment of joy was but a brief twinkle in the sky. Something that might have been imagined. ]
When I dance, I can create illusions. They won't harm you and you won't see anything to impact your mental state [ except her naked, maybe ] but within that, music should exist as well. If that's all right with you.
[ She's aware it might be a little overwhelming. ]
thank,
[ it should be noted there had been a definitive pause before answering. but that at least implies he'd really thought it through, as opposed to just saying what he thinks she wants. he doesn't know much of illusions (that aren't prompted by grief, or stress, or both) but he supposes if he's to be submitted to one, he can find no better person to guide him along than hamel herself.
she didn't seem particularly cruel, after all.
they lapse into an easy and expected lull when the food arrives. perhaps just as expectedly, the salads weren't too filling at all, and so a shared pasta plate is eventually ordered to fill in the gap. overall, the dinner is a cozy, pleasant thing, though perhaps it is far more casual than the house expects from a date...
because no sooner than marco had stood beside hamel's chair to pull it back for her as she stands, does the lovely dress she wears suddenly flicker out of existence, and he's left staring down at what is certainly not meant for public attention. ]
M-Miss Hamel—!
[ after a brief shock he reacts impulsively, grabbing at the long tablecloth just within reach to draw it over her, covering her from the neck down. it's... quite the commotion, and all their finished plates and glasses go clattering to the floor, some breaking in the process. ]
no subject
[ is all Hamel can get out, a bit blankly, when Marco suddenly panics and whips the tablecloth from its god-given place on the table to draw it over her instead. And it's perhaps very clear that she has no idea why he decided to do that, because as far as she's concerned, her dress has never left her body (yet).
The shattering of a couple of the glasses startles her more, backing up a little against Marco in her shock (though she's at least now got a tablecloth over her, saving his eyes apparently). ]
Marco?? Did--something happen?
[ Well, now everyone, diners and waitstaff are staring at the both of them. ]
no subject
he is very keenly aware of a heat crawling up the back of his neck, curling around his ears. ]
I'm — not sure.
[ his voice is quiet, hushed. though he knows they've already got the entire restaurant's attention, he doesn't dare raise his next words louder than a whisper, muttered close to her ear. ]
I thought... no, I'm certain... you were unclothed. Just now.
[ he could, of course, check. but he's definitely not going to?! ]
no subject
And her dress is still there. Where it's been. She'd know if it suddenly vanished, wouldn't she? Was she too deeply distracted to have noticed? More importantly, is he okay?
Tentatively, just as quiet, even though everyone is still staring at them-- ]
I... seem to be dressed. Does it look differently to you?
no subject
marco shouldn't have.
standing rigid, he whips his head back towards a random spot in the restaurant — some hanging lantern or windchime or some other kind of decoration he honestly couldn't tell you right now it could be a hanging ballsack for all that he's actually paying attention— ]
Yes.
[ he does not, fortunately, choke on his words. ]
I'm sorry.
no subject
Please keep your eyes closed.
[ Ideally, he'll do this. As there's the shuffling and the sound of things being shifted and Hamel stepping away to very quietly murmur to the closest server. It may cost... a few more chips than the voucher, because the voucher did not know how to cover broken tableware and someone pilfering a tablecloth, and maybe she might have agreed to come back at a later date to wash dishes for a bit, but.
Regardless, he doesn't need to hear most of that, and Hamel murmurs an apology before carefully taking Marco's hand and guiding him through the restaurant. As they exit-- ]
Will this work?
[ She has fashioned the tablecloth into a fine, draping dress over her regular dress. And by "fine", I mean it's quite obviously a tablecloth, but she did her best. ]
I should be able to remedy it in the illusion, but I'm not sure how to resolve it now...
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)