Perhaps she’ll tell him about Midgar and the plate separating her family and friends from the wealthy, the well-off, another time; maybe he’ll wiggle the information about her home in the slums out of her sooner than later. Presently, Aerith is almost eager to prod into his motivations for coming, like a dog digging for a bone. He speaks, voice warm of timber and with a quality to it that gives it the wholeness of truth.
“I’m not surprised that’s the case,” there’s an admission in her voice, something akin to the veil being lifted for a moment. It’s the first time an honest tone of sadness paints her words, momentarily as it is. “There’s only one person I recognize around here. I haven’t seen him yet.”
Maybe that, secretly, is her motivation for coming. If he picks up those breadcrumbs, she gives no impression for her feelings on that; what is there to say? The pair of them are two ships lost in a sea of revelry. Aerith wonders for a moment if this is what it’s like above the plate, in New Midgar, every night.
She moves a little too slow for a moment, nearly steps on his toes for real, and jumps a little when she feels the bump of their feet, eking out a sudden, “Sorry!” The world is always spinning. Aerith almost forgot for a moment.
“If I’m honest for a moment… Most parties don’t have me on the list,” her voice drops, like a stage whisper. This is some kind of secret, or maybe a display for the fun of it. She’ll let him pick. “So I’ve never been to a masquerade or gathering like this, but… I bet the company isn’t always this good.”
i'm so sorry about the wait, please feel free to disregard if you've moved on! ;w;
“I’m not surprised that’s the case,” there’s an admission in her voice, something akin to the veil being lifted for a moment. It’s the first time an honest tone of sadness paints her words, momentarily as it is. “There’s only one person I recognize around here. I haven’t seen him yet.”
Maybe that, secretly, is her motivation for coming. If he picks up those breadcrumbs, she gives no impression for her feelings on that; what is there to say? The pair of them are two ships lost in a sea of revelry. Aerith wonders for a moment if this is what it’s like above the plate, in New Midgar, every night.
She moves a little too slow for a moment, nearly steps on his toes for real, and jumps a little when she feels the bump of their feet, eking out a sudden, “Sorry!” The world is always spinning. Aerith almost forgot for a moment.
“If I’m honest for a moment… Most parties don’t have me on the list,” her voice drops, like a stage whisper. This is some kind of secret, or maybe a display for the fun of it. She’ll let him pick. “So I’ve never been to a masquerade or gathering like this, but… I bet the company isn’t always this good.”