[ If he should have laughed (politely, the sound muffled by the back of his hand) when Saber too-effectively stayed the pursuit of a very stern (over-worried, and likely to remain hovering just outside of the Avalon's boarding ramp) assistant, then surely, it had only been on account of something catching in his throat, the particles (of nothing) needing to be cleared for his health. Later, Sion will have to apologize to his admittedly very uppity, but so too impossibly loyal subordinate, because--... They both have lost someone, a comrade, and yet it is only the Director who is able to find a reprieve as he seats himself at the table he's been lead to, golden eyes falling upon the parcel, still perfectly wrapped.
A shame, that he hadn't been given the opportunity to search for it.
Every ship has its story, its secrets, and the Avalon is no exception—Sion should have very much liked to explore, but instead: ]
You are not under warrant, nor am I on assignment, and so... [ No sooner than his hands touch to the brown-paper wrapping of the gift box, he sees it undone, the parcel opened with a too-elegant flourish to reveal...! A tea set which, uncannily, matches the colors of the Avalon itself. Something about the cobalt and gold coloring had both reminded Sion of Saber and of happier times; of days filled with many comrades come together for the sake of working toward noble dreams and goals, for all things begin with the exchange of warm words and tea. ] ...we meet, now, as friends.
[ Taking a teacup into hand, he considers the glass, a thoughtful hum escaping his lips before he extends the piece to Saber herself— ]
Will you inspect the individual pieces for damages? [ He will not, of course, say that several pieces of the tea set boast hand-painted lines of poetry. Should she come to notice them, it will be easy enough to realize that Sion detailed the glass himself—the painted script matches his florid handwriting to a tee. ] It was a fear of mine, that the glasswork would not be able to withstand transit to your initial location.
[ He whisks away, after that—though not before ensuring that Saber will hold onto the teacup!—turning to survey the immediate area surrounding. ]
In the meantime, if you would be so kind as to point me toward a kettle, I would be happy to set water to boil.
[ ...Sion??? Are you trying to play the role of 'host' on another person's ship??? ]
no subject
[ If he should have laughed (politely, the sound muffled by the back of his hand) when Saber too-effectively stayed the pursuit of a very stern (over-worried, and likely to remain hovering just outside of the Avalon's boarding ramp) assistant, then surely, it had only been on account of something catching in his throat, the particles (of nothing) needing to be cleared for his health. Later, Sion will have to apologize to his admittedly very uppity, but so too impossibly loyal subordinate, because--... They both have lost someone, a comrade, and yet it is only the Director who is able to find a reprieve as he seats himself at the table he's been lead to, golden eyes falling upon the parcel, still perfectly wrapped.
A shame, that he hadn't been given the opportunity to search for it.
Every ship has its story, its secrets, and the Avalon is no exception—Sion should have very much liked to explore, but instead: ]
You are not under warrant, nor am I on assignment, and so... [ No sooner than his hands touch to the brown-paper wrapping of the gift box, he sees it undone, the parcel opened with a too-elegant flourish to reveal...! A tea set which, uncannily, matches the colors of the Avalon itself. Something about the cobalt and gold coloring had both reminded Sion of Saber and of happier times; of days filled with many comrades come together for the sake of working toward noble dreams and goals, for all things begin with the exchange of warm words and tea. ] ...we meet, now, as friends.
[ Taking a teacup into hand, he considers the glass, a thoughtful hum escaping his lips before he extends the piece to Saber herself— ]
Will you inspect the individual pieces for damages? [ He will not, of course, say that several pieces of the tea set boast hand-painted lines of poetry. Should she come to notice them, it will be easy enough to realize that Sion detailed the glass himself—the painted script matches his florid handwriting to a tee. ] It was a fear of mine, that the glasswork would not be able to withstand transit to your initial location.
[ He whisks away, after that—though not before ensuring that Saber will hold onto the teacup!—turning to survey the immediate area surrounding. ]
In the meantime, if you would be so kind as to point me toward a kettle, I would be happy to set water to boil.
[ ...Sion??? Are you trying to play the role of 'host' on another person's ship??? ]