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When Two Strangers Meet 'Twixt It
Wed Oct 18, 2006 12:42
68.11.220.50 (XFF: 192.168.1.3)

Locke studied the people's comings and goings with a scholastic flair that made it party enough to whomever saw him looking. Sipping the punch, he idly speculated on this and that, and, with the unhurried ease of an expert many times beyond his years, left himself to smile quietly into his cup, into the universe. He was fair, true - pale skinned and dark haired; a study in opposites. Most people did not like to look at him, though it was not for a lack of beauty. Locke was an exceptionally pretty young man, but his eyes were imperious, and his expression was always mild. Thin, arched eyebrows matched his narrow nose and infintisimal lips. As a soldier, a few had nicknamed him the Dead Prince, though, admittedly, Locke failed to see the humor. He wasn't dead. He was a prince, though. Had been. In his other life - before the Tower. Ah, Tear. What a dreadfully slighted country. Locke was taken from his observance of the festivities suddenly; the gentle and feminine voice came from next to him. It's funny, how that works. Looking at the things far away from you lends itself to being taken by surprise by pretty things that are two feet to the left.

"Would you care for a dance Asha'man ?" She was tall - taller than he - and wore her hair very short, in a boyish manner that was unbefitting even most boys. She had the face for it, though - she had a simple oval, one that was artistically suited to being unmasked, uncovered. Her hair was a functional precept to that, and Locke liked it. He'd taken up sketching - she would be a wonder on paper. Her scar was noted, sidelong. People were marked in this world all the time, and it was of no consequence to him. He himself wore many scars from the battle in Illian, with the Seanchan. All this came through his mind in enough time for allowance of a polite pause; he ended it.

"...Locke. Asha'man Locke Lemain." He was former nobility, and had no qualms with his ability to dance. True, it had been years since his classical training had come to an end, but a dulce duble was something that was akin to bicycle riding - one did not forget. The heretofor unnamed Aes Sedai extended her hand politely, and Locke broke all necessary protocols by taking it gently and kissing the knuckle of her forefinger. She did not know it at the time, but it was a presupposed setup to a joke at his own shortness. "It would be my honor to dance with you, though by my own speculative observances of our respective physicalities, I believe you will be leading - and I don't know if I can quite move my hips like a good partner should." Her smirk was amused and simple. How strange to be in the company of a straightforward Aes Sedai. He'd taken the lead as she had smiled - the presupposed joke giving him reason and time to take his presupposed role as the man in the dance. Instants that became moments that became a thirty-second span of time that was, in it's entirety, planned out exactly, in just as many seconds. Locke was that kind of mind.

He rounded her, taking himself to the tips of his spit-shined boots to allow her a full rotation as their arms uncurled, and he noted quickly that she didn't overextend her free arm - a tendency in novices, in the school of dance. She wasn't tightly controlled, because this was not the kind of tempo that called for it, but she was adept enough to be loose without being slack. Locke appreciated finer knowledge of finer things, and, silently, he was impressed. "I don't believe we've come into contact before, madam." She followed his lead wide, letting him guide where he ought. She let the first probe go unanswered, smiling an Aes Sedai smile, content in her momentary mystery. They each knew what was next, dance wise, and for that, stepped out from each other with opposite feet, letting their hips touch, glide against one another, before closing the gap and resuming the normal, liquid step. The dance was over, and Locke had a mind to dip her, because he could, and also because nobody else had dipped a woman on this particular dance floor this evening, but he did not. A dip required trust between partners - the woman trusting the man, honestly - and he did not posess enough arrogance to believe she would be amicable for such a surprise so early in their... relationhip wasn't even the word. So early in their introduction. Locke 101. He smiled. "Might I ask your name, then?"

  • Is Lovely to Dance BeneathTira Chakima Aes Sedai, Blue ajah, Wed Oct 18 11:53
    Tira smiled pleasantly at her reflection in the mirror. It was time for another festival, this one to be held at the Black Tower. She held back a grimace at that; the last time she'd attended a... more
    • When Two Strangers Meet 'Twixt It — Asha'man Locke, Wed Oct 18 12:42
      • A Name? Oh I have one of those!Tira Chakima Aes Sedai, Blue ajah, Wed Oct 18 14:15
        He introduced himself, and she politely extended her hand, which he took and pressed his lips gently to her knuckle. It was a surprise but Tira's face remained calm and serene. It was nothing more... more
        • The Ghost TourAsha'man Locke Lemain, Tue Oct 24 22:53
          It was a bold thing to say, one stranger to another. A daring one, too, what for Aes Sedai in all their stark serenity and smooth lines, all liquid edges and sanded corners. Her face was plainly... more
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