Logs

Arcadia's imagination is stirred by Katarina's words, and she can't help but mentally fabricate the image and sound of the Marquis 'squealing.' It is clear she doesn't enjoy the thought, and she's soon shaking her head to dismiss it from her mind. "Squeal? Why in Aion would he do that?" There's a lingering trauma to her expression. "I do not like it when Uncle Fairen acts cute or silly, it is really odd and strange to me. Like if a chicken went moo."



Cady tracks Vayne out the door, head turning over a sparkly silk-clad shoulder to see him off. "My scholarly abilities," she echoes to herself with a cetain twitch of self-consciousness. She sits there with a more muted energy, and while it's noticeable to those who know her, a stranger probably would not call her demeanor still nor contemplative. Still she fusses with that coin, thumb rubbing against its metallic impressions. "... If the subjects are things that truly intrigue me, then perhaps I will surprise even myself." Her idealism is back, a renewed smile sparking to life on her features.

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Vayne: Vayne seems to sympathise with Arcadia's lament, and then he says, "Well, you've been an apt pupil for me so far, my Lady, so don't sell your scholarly abilities short of the mark. And, Highness, I never meant to suggest I wouldn't consider it; there's nothing to consider.  I'll make sure I encourage my flock to spend time here, and to /productively/ challenge the propositions at hand."  He receives a short note from a passing messenger and then nods.  "Speaking of which.  It appears an argument has erupted that is not in the slightest profitable, and I am being called to help the participants readjust their view of proper behaviour."  He rises, and then offers a polite bow.  "If you'll excuse me.  And, now you can have the private conversation you'd wanted to."  And with that knowing smile, Vayne heads off back into the city.

Arcadia: Arcadia's imagination is stirred by Katarina's words, and she can't help but mentally fabricate the image and sound of the Marquis 'squealing.' It is clear she doesn't enjoy the thought, and she's soon shaking her head to dismiss it from her mind. "Squeal? Why in Aion would he do that?" There's a lingering trauma to her expression. "I do not like it when Uncle Fairen acts cute or silly, it is really odd and strange to me. Like if a chicken went moo."



Cady tracks Vayne out the door, head turning over a sparkly silk-clad shoulder to see him off. "My scholarly abilities," she echoes to herself with a cetain twitch of self-consciousness. She sits there with a more muted energy, and while it's noticeable to those who know her, a stranger probably would not call her demeanor still nor contemplative. Still she fusses with that coin, thumb rubbing against its metallic impressions. "... If the subjects are things that truly intrigue me, then perhaps I will surprise even myself." Her idealism is back, a renewed smile sparking to life on her features.

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Arcadia's reaction to her words stirs a vibrant laugh from Katarina. "He and I have a bit of a habit of ending up unexpectedly in each other's company during social functions or outings," she explains helpfully, lips curling just-so with lingering humor. "And he seems usually pleasantly surprised and pleased when it happens, so I thought imagery of him squealing would be a good laugh, next I see him." Leaning back, her back finds the tufted upholstery a welcome cushion for her recline. "I'm sure many of the subjects would be something that sparks some measure of interest, as they're all things of some relative danger and intrigue that comes with the strange, occultish and mystic." A languid wiggle of slender fingers is made toward the young lady. "Still, I suppose it would be better to let you see that for yourself than to keep asking."

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"The two of you are friends?" Cady wonders as she bends over herself, picking up her ankles in her hands and bringing them up to tuck under her thighs in a comfy cross-legged sit. "He is like a second father to me, and was around often when I was very young." She crinkles up her nose as she smiles. "So it is sort of like you being friends with my dad," she admits, amused by the mild awkwardnss of it all.



All those things make Cady increasingly bushy-tailed; danger, intrigue, strange, occultish, and mystic. "As long as we end up on the shore of an island, and not the pages of a book." Another bump of energy comes in response to Katarina's last sentence. "Gods, yes. I am dying to travel. I have..." She inhales a breath, and looks left, then right. "There are two conundrums that I can not shake from my mind, lately. One, I am still researching, and the other is a conundrum no one seems to care about anymore: Aislin Ashford."





Katarina quirks her lips softly at Arcadia. "He is not terribly old, Lady Arcadia. Only a decade and some time my senior, perhaps. Regardless, I do consider him a friend of sorts. His companionship is welcome and most appreciated when His Majesty and I end up catching up over breakfast at the Queensrest every few weeks," she recounts, reaching over to tap the very pad of her fingertip upon the young ladyy's nose. She settles in to listen to what ails the young lady, and when Aislin is mentioned, her expression grows somber. "We have not lost hope, Arcadia. Far from it. She was a friend to many and I know for a fact that there are at least a few who still actively explore what they can for a better explanation on what Aislin actually did in sacrifice to save the lives of the people she'd been on an expedition with. Speak with Princess Lou of the Explorers some time."





"He is incredibly old," Cady disagrees, with the bold confidence of someone still just on the cusp of adulthood, a devilish glint behind her greyish blues. It's a playful comment, of course. "Or at least, his brain is. That is what happens to scholars, you know." She rolls her wrist, bending it to the side and working the tendons. "Mn." Mirth brings her eyes into lashy-lined slits, and she smiiles a helpless smile at the boop of a finger against her nosetip. "I believe I could help find her. Or... at least provide an option no one else has tried, before." Her confidence is stronger when she's calling thirty-somethings old, than it is here, but still she believes in what she says. "I am also researching the location of a monster, or.. Well, he's a bad guy, for sure. But I think he's something more. Anyway-- There are so many scary things that I now know are real. And. Well. I went to help stop them." Yellow eyebrows flatten above her eyes for a second. "... Is there a group like that? Monster hunters?"

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