Oh. Right. We were going to talk about my dad, yeah?
( uh. Nina snorts out a laugh. ) I mean I've seen you all over some other tiefling at every gathering we've had so I'm going to assume that's her? Congratulations.
I'm... honored? Where do you want to get that drink?
[Truth be told, he debated the merits of asking her to be in the wedding party. And it may still happen, but he and Anthem need to decide who gets dibs on Finnick first, and anyway he's not sure whether getting Nina involved would be doing her any favors.
He'll figure it out later. In the meantime, he laughs sheepishly at the observation.] Yes, that's her. Only other tiefling here so far, but that's not why I'm all over her. We knew one another back home, for years.
Anyway, I do want to hear about your father. Red Horse Tavern in Grey Ward, perhaps?
[It's on the tip of his tongue to reassure her she doesn't have to justify buying lingerie to him, in that case--but no. He doesn't want to raise the specter of that awkward moment. Let them both just pretend they're as sexless as they reasonably can.]
Deal. I'll see you there.
[And so he shall! He's there a little earlier than she, and so she will find him with a basket of fried shoestring potatoes, as well as a pint of ale, lounging comfortably by a window so he can watch the sky as he waits.]
When Nina arrived, the first thing she did was grab a mug of ale for herself at the bar. Only once she had it in hand did she swing over to Zevlor, settle in the seat across from him, and pull a third over to prop her feet up on.
"How long have you been waiting?" She asked as she took a long swig of her drink before squinting at the window. Was she late? Oops.
"Oh, maybe fifteen minutes," he waves his hand casually as if to reassure her he doesn't mind. Chances are he's early, rather than that she's late. That's his usual M.O.
"Long enough to get food. Do you want some?" he nudges the basket of fries toward her. "I'm becoming a connoisseur of tavern food. Couldn't get enough of it when I first got here."
She reached for a fry without even confirming verbally that she was interested, and popped it into her mouth. "They don't make shit like this back home — well, not in the taverns I'm usually in. You know how hard it is to get salt at a seedy bar?"
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( uh. Nina snorts out a laugh. ) I mean I've seen you all over some other tiefling at every gathering we've had so I'm going to assume that's her? Congratulations.
I'm... honored? Where do you want to get that drink?
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He'll figure it out later. In the meantime, he laughs sheepishly at the observation.] Yes, that's her. Only other tiefling here so far, but that's not why I'm all over her. We knew one another back home, for years.
Anyway, I do want to hear about your father. Red Horse Tavern in Grey Ward, perhaps?
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You don't need to justify your sappy romance to me, Zevlor.
Sure. I'll be there in an hour.
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Deal. I'll see you there.
[And so he shall! He's there a little earlier than she, and so she will find him with a basket of fried shoestring potatoes, as well as a pint of ale, lounging comfortably by a window so he can watch the sky as he waits.]
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"How long have you been waiting?" She asked as she took a long swig of her drink before squinting at the window. Was she late? Oops.
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"Long enough to get food. Do you want some?" he nudges the basket of fries toward her. "I'm becoming a connoisseur of tavern food. Couldn't get enough of it when I first got here."
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