If there is even just a sliver of hope that it could work, I want to try. The worst the could happen that it fails and I'm back to here I was before.
[There was a beat before her next reply came. Sitting here in her tent she silently was trying to process this new feeling of hope that warmed her heart. The wizard had no idea what this gift meant to her.]
A kiss as payment? Oh no, I would never do something like that. Makes it feel so transactional. I would kiss you because I wanted to.
[Wait... What did she just write? Again she quickly scribbled back in her journal.]
What I meant was, I don't make a habit of kissing just anyone. Kissing someone should mean something and not be used so cheaply as an exchange for goods and services.
( There’s more he could, or should, touch on here, address that dangling comment and the prospect of kisses or not… but in the end, he backpedals safely out of it. )
I’ll start pursuing some leads on supplies, and let you know as soon as we’re ready.
It takes a few days of preparation, of course, and the hefty cost of shopping for an appropriate focus. Gale accepts Kol’s gold and browses various markets for days, pondering crystal balls, breathing on the glass of a mirror and wiping off its surface with the sleeve of his robes, rapping his knuckles on the silver frame. He picks up a gigantic basin and tilts it back and forth, considering filling it with holy water for the scrying, but then sets it down as being too large and unwieldy.
A thousand gold was rich, but so long as Kol decided price was no object —
In the end, Gale successfully arranges for their scrying session. There’s a picnic blanket (the same he’d used the night he showed her the Weave) spread out on a field under the stars. He’d waited for a clear night; not because it’s strictly necessary, but because this is difficult enough without the distraction of pouring rain around them. Despite all his bluster, he primarily prides himself on evocation and illusion magic, and divination isn’t his strong suit.
Standing in the field, hands propped on his hips, Gale surveys his work — and then, hearing the woman approaching, he glances back over with his face breaking into a smile.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
If you wanted to rp out the scrying, I would be 100% down for it
[There was a beat before her next reply came. Sitting here in her tent she silently was trying to process this new feeling of hope that warmed her heart. The wizard had no idea what this gift meant to her.]
A kiss as payment? Oh no, I would never do something like that. Makes it feel so transactional. I would kiss you because I wanted to.
[Wait... What did she just write? Again she quickly scribbled back in her journal.]
What I meant was, I don't make a habit of kissing just anyone. Kissing someone should mean something and not be used so cheaply as an exchange for goods and services.
hELL yeah
( There’s more he could, or should, touch on here, address that dangling comment and the prospect of kisses or not… but in the end, he backpedals safely out of it. )
I’ll start pursuing some leads on supplies, and let you know as soon as we’re ready.
It takes a few days of preparation, of course, and the hefty cost of shopping for an appropriate focus. Gale accepts Kol’s gold and browses various markets for days, pondering crystal balls, breathing on the glass of a mirror and wiping off its surface with the sleeve of his robes, rapping his knuckles on the silver frame. He picks up a gigantic basin and tilts it back and forth, considering filling it with holy water for the scrying, but then sets it down as being too large and unwieldy.
A thousand gold was rich, but so long as Kol decided price was no object —
In the end, Gale successfully arranges for their scrying session. There’s a picnic blanket (the same he’d used the night he showed her the Weave) spread out on a field under the stars. He’d waited for a clear night; not because it’s strictly necessary, but because this is difficult enough without the distraction of pouring rain around them. Despite all his bluster, he primarily prides himself on evocation and illusion magic, and divination isn’t his strong suit.
Standing in the field, hands propped on his hips, Gale surveys his work — and then, hearing the woman approaching, he glances back over with his face breaking into a smile.
“Kolnatha! Good evening. Are you ready?”