Snippet #1397834

Of all the damned people he had to be stuck to, it is Valen and Lisa. From what he's surmised he simply dislikes the both of them right off the bat. Both are shemlen for one thing. Valen, while not bad on the eyes, is such a pompous ass that Cash would love nothing more than to scream his ear off. And Lisa has already annoyed Cash from that forced conversation. Well forced listening rather. It was a pain having to sit there and have the woman try and talk to him. Tonight he is to play the part of a slave. There is no use disguising what he is to charade as tonight. The facade will be most difficult seeing as he is already scowling.

Buttoned up in a prim outfit he remains in the shadow of the two shemlens, visibly bristled and most certainly not looking forward to this. The woman with the scarred ears caught his attention but he would not speak until spoken to as Blodwyn had instructed him. Just one night. One night he can attempt to overcome this and will hopefully leave unscathed. For now the elf plucks a spare fluff off of his ruff before somberly glancing at the elves gracefully gliding around with platters balanced on their hands.

~~~

Unlike her brother Blysse is rather excited. She was relayed all of what Blodwyn had been telling them before the ball in Dalish by Cash, but has since then either chose to forget them or disregard them. She is flickering about like the playful entity that she is, her hair a golden wisp trailing after her. She had seen that Jasper was without his eyepatch but didn't point it out or flounder around him. If anyone were to inquire she'd still insist it was nothing to be concerned about. When Lord Caladrius and Lady Lavinia appear she must be held back by her brother to refrain from bounding for the ear-scarred woman. In the scandalously short dress given to her to wear Blysse plays with the white lace down by the hem. It stops mid-thigh although this doesn't bother the elf. Nor does it make her any less shy.

Although she knows well enough to remain close to Zephora. Periodically Blysse's attention narrows, ability to focus diminishing as she would poke the Chasind's shoulder while leaning the opposite way. This ball is so boring...until she sees all of the lovely, heavy dresses the Ladies are permitted to wear. Well...wait. Why is it she cannot dress like that for the ball? Her lips curl downward into a disappointed frown as she glances down at herself, ears dropping in hindsight as the toes of the white-gold boots on her feet turn inward meekly.