Scene #9482: Birds of a Feather Flock... With Spiders?

Owner	Pose
White	It's nearly noon when White sends a couple of messages Schneider's way. She hadn't had to do much to prepare for the visit, since it wasn't her own home doing the hosting, but she'd still ended up talking to a few people for longer than expected; when they come in, the messages notify Schneider that: "Hello. I've notified the gate guards, and Army leadership. You may head to these coordinates when it is convenient, and I will come to meet you." Then, slightly afterward she adds, "It isn't too cold right now, but the wind is a bit high." --- Later... --- When Schneider arrives through the Demon Realm warpgate, she emerges into the relative quiet of the open plaza. The first people she sees are the handful of guards posted around the gate itself, spread out circularly; their uniforms are primarily white, with both men and women wearing long pants, tall black boots, and a neat tabard with a blue cross on the chest over the top of whatever shirt and protective equipment they have on. Six of them are equipped with spears and shortswords like might be expected of a guard, but the two who acknowledge Schneider's arrival and approach her don't appear to be armed at all. They also have hooded overcoats. The guards as well as the passing citizens don't look like what she might have imagined of 'demons' at all, unless bright and unnatural hair-colors were especially Satanic to Schneider; although they're relatively few for what she might expect in such a broad plaza in the center of their own capital, she can see individuals and small families walking nearby. Even the construction feels like a blend of styles between older Venetian architecture and more modern apartment-type design, supported by the unique advantages magic provides in construction, so it's not entirely in the realm of 'medieval fantasy' at first glance. In any case, the two that approach her don't exactly ask who she is! They seem to have been given a clear enough description that after sharing a silent glance between one-another, the taller one gestures to touch his ear, breaking eye contact slightly while the woman beside him offers a small smile, covers her heart with one hand, and nods. The Tenth Army has a large number of members with various levels of Fartalk or Telepathy, and it only takes a brief notification for White to be summoned directly behind them! They don't notice her appearance until she takes her first step, at which point they practicedly try to pass off their startled jolts as firm and proper steps to either side, to part around her as if it were their plan all along. White doesn't seem to question it, already disregarding them in favor of her guest. She's wearing her usual style of dress and seems to have long-since patched any holes from the last fight, though her sleeves are loosened and let out. The high winds she mentioned before Schneider arrived seem to come and go, and one gust makes her sleeves and hair billow intensely for a moment; her skirt unexpectedly handles this assault without issue, like invisible hands are actively pulling it downward toward her ankles. After casting a close-eyed glance back in the direction that the wind was coming from, she turns halfway back and offers Schneider her hand, palm upward. "Is there... Anything you need... Before we go? The Demon Lord... And my nieces... Are waiting inside." White indicatively turns to look at the Phtalo manor, just alongside the plaza where the gate is situated. There's a castle down the way too, but it's not where White is looking.
Schneider Greco	Schneider is, as might be expected, a slow typer. >Wind? My lady, surely you are not asking me to dress different. >Are you sure your lord would like a longer dress and not a shorter one? . . . A diminutive, enchanting nymph emerges through the warpgate, all pearl and charcoal and maple-blood scarlet but for the bottle in her hand. She lifts her chin and takes a deep eyes-shut breath of the air, and then looks around at the museum-pieces (tn: living people) around her. "My, you are so, mhmhm, quaint? Ahh, it is like the old cities up North! What a beautiful country my dear lady has. The spears, the swords...!" Schneider so politely returns the greeting-woman's nod and heart-covering gesture (making her hand nearly the only covering her heart has), and then shamelessly steps forward to feel the man's tabard, as if it were quite normal to wordlessly poke at his chest. "A cross... ah, even 'demons' worship. Che peccato. But I should have known, ummm... that you would be just like us? How else could demons be. Mmm, now I am foolish." And so White arrives to find the Schneider entity shamelessly pinching the fabric of her underling's shirt. She looks over with a slight-startled smile and half-shut eyes, but doesn't even let go. The gust of wind flutters her black mobster coat, revealing the beautiful handguns strapped to her waist. Her flapper dress's individual feathers flutter too, with one coming off and swirling down the street like a dead leaf, but it's actually too form-hugging to become (any more) indecent in the gale. "My-la-dy White," she says, finally releasing the poor man to take White's hand. "Mmm, no, I'm quite impatient to meet them. I hope this is a fair gift?" She lifts the bottle of wine carelessly by its neck, making the liquid slosh. As a puckish afterthought: "And should I, ahh, set my guns aside? For meeting royalty, I know little."
White	The Tenth Army soldier-man seems understandably puzzled by Schneider's approach, but unthreatened enough not to challenge her beyond a gentle "Excuse me, miss..?" as if his natural assumption was that she had meant to walk past him and he were simply in the way. Seeing her puzzle over his uniform, he slowly winds together a sort of working assumption that this is actually an inspection of some kind, and that Schneider simply must be an important military ally given the special reception planned for today. His back straightens a little, and he lowers his hand from beside his head to fold it with the other behind his lower back while she fiddles with his tabard. "... Many do still worship the Goddess, Lady Schneider. Though faith is in decline... It is difficult for some to continue, with how thoroughly the humans have trampled even their own believers." The tabard, having been made by White personally, is smooth and comfortable to the touch. While not entirely without its wear or tear from use, it holds together quite well. Aside from slight fraying around the edges, there's a spot that seems like some of the threads were displaced on the left side, where something like an arrow might have pushed through shallowly and stopped against the owner's mail... Or his rib. Once White arrives though, both the interaction and the handguns recieve similarly brief, noting glances. Somehow the wine feels more important! "You have... Good sense, Miss Schneider. She should... Be happy." The offer to disarm is gently waved off by White's other hand. "She isn't... Worried. She's old enough... To know what guns... Are, though." From there, with Schneider's hand in hers, White turns without moving her feet... Then stifles the initial reflex to just teleport, and decides to lead the way by foot through the front door. It's a little more proper, and last time it did seem as though her guests would have liked to see more of the manor, so... Well. Now she just has to figure out when the right moment is to release Schneider's hand again. If she doesn't withdraw it herself... Well, it'll be fine. White can avoid being weird about it for a little while. Inside the manor after entering through the broad double-door entryway, Schneider gets a much better view of the foyer decor than the last group White brought here. The Phtalo manor is both a residence and an office-of-state, with the lower floor allowing the passage of both uniformed army members and uniformed housekeepers with similar urgency, mostly passing in and out of the five or so different doors flanking the display-hall of the foyer, and alongside the tremendous staircase at the far end. Grey stone columns- polished smooth and mended with magic over the years- break up the room's vastness a bit and bound off the central footpath along with the contrast of white tiles against smaller, checkerboard tiles further out to either side. There are thirty or more displays along those walls to the left and right, with paintings of famous Demons like past Demon Lords or previous Phtalo family heads, pieces of armor or weapons used in previous wars, and sculptures of things like Land Dragons which were raised by the family and served loyally. Though, Schneider probably just sees those as 'weird bipedal reptiles', and it might be strange to see them rendered the same way one might a very memorable steed. All in all, it gives the foyer a feeling like that of a historical museum that a very sentimental lord began to maintain years ago, by his own means and priorities.
Schneider Greco	"'Lady' 'Schneider'?" The way she repeats it, warmly disbelieving, makes it clear that she wouldn't prefer 'lord'. "My-lady, your soldiers are such delights." Both of the lead greeters are rewarded with a beautiful smile on her way off. And... "Mmm? Then, may the 'Goddess' soon be worthy of whatever trust you give her," is spoken to them lightly, as an airy but earnest wish. . . . Schneider's thumb brushes the back of White's hand, probably oblivious to her discomfort. When they come to the manor's front door, it's her who steps through first, lifting White's hand while 'helping' her up the stoop as if they were getting into a carriage together. "A Goddess and no God... guns as things of the past generations... arcanists among your regular troops..." Huh? Does she mean the far-talk? "And statues made to critters!" The dragon-statues make her giggle breathily, as she 'leads' White further in. Surely the destination is straight ahead; White will have to correct her if not. "My-lady, your world is so fanciful to me. Ahh, but I should not be so taken. It is not a dollhouse for my amusing, I know." She clears her throat and tries to sober up a little, twirling the wine bottle for idle fun as she eyes the paintings- the liquid inside sloshes loudly; there's surely a reason you're not supposed to do that. "Well, where is the old woman we-are to meet?"
White	White seems unbothered to let Schneider step in front of her, and manages her own pace to keep up without making Schneider pause abruptly. She isn't normally the type to hustle by foot, but it's easy to make an exception for Schneider's enthusiasm. The way she frames her understanding of what she's learning is worth paying close attention to, and White seems to hesitate to correct her at all; it feels kind of mean to spoil what seems like a fairytale, like telling someone Santa isn't real when they're still young. "... Magic is something... Everyone can use, here. But not equally." she starts, implicitly glancing off into a corner of the manor's displays like she's looking for something to jumpstart the explanation for her. Lacking that convenience, she tries to summarize, "... This world used to... Rely on technology. There was no... Magic, for people. It belonged to gods." She pauses, making a mild demonstration of creating a simple, incomplete violet glyph over her palm with a light flick of her wrist. "... But a god wrapped up... The whole world, in one... Big spell. Within its rules... People born here, can... Use magic. Sometimes even... In ways they don't think... are actually 'magic'. The animals changed... Over time too, because of it." She seems pensive though, like she's made it sound more pleasant than she really aught to, and without the need to sit down and rattle off history lessons for the next couple of hours she instead drops the topic and points upstairs.
White	Leading (or following, at this rate) Schneider up to the second floor, White shows her to the office door just at the top and center, knocking gently with the back of her knuckles twice before letting the both of them inside. The office is really more of a private study; Schneider can see at least three bookshelves just as she's walking in, flanking the desk at the center. There's a door at the back that leads to what might just be a reading room with even more bookshelves, and aside from the luxurious-looking velvet-lined wooden chair that sits behind the ornate desk the Demon Lord has called dibs on, there are at least eight more chairs borrowed from other rooms of the manor for the occassion. Some of those are filled already though! Aside from Ariel (who is already coming out of her seat and around the desk in a couple of bouncy strides) there are four more young ladies; one with a bow atop her head who remains seated and greets with a lip-closed smile and careful-seeming wave, one with a red hood over her brow and big voluminous ruffled sleeves extending past her hands who almost doesn't seem to react at all from where she's stood lurking in a nearby corner, one who stands up to smile almost vapidly from behind Ariel's shoulder at Schneider like she's observing a stray cat, and the last which all but springs up out of her seat with her hands balled together and who can't seem to stop bouncing on her heels. The first three are all blonde, with little differences in the length of their hair and the style they use, but the fourth sibling's hair is dark grey instead... And she appears to have cat ears poking out atop her head. With that last girl's hands in front of her, Schneider can probably notice the subtle doll-joints of her knuckles, even though most of her skin seems quite natural at first glance. In order, White reaches out to point or pat the head of the doll-jointed girls, saying "Ael. Sael. Riel. And Fiel. My nieces. They have... Trouble speaking. But they'll understand you." White is about to gesture to Ariel next, starting with "The-" when Ariel whistles suddenly, folding her arms and cocking her head after getting a good look at Schneider's outfit. Cutting in front of White, she declares, "Damn! Brave girl!" with a small snicker. White is momentarily stunned, looks at Schneider like she's wondering what's so strange, and might be embarrassed given she's speaking just a scoch more softly when she resumes. "... This is the... Demon Lord. Ariel." Ariel, then, puts up a V-sign with her fingers and grins, her other hand on her hip and her elbow jutting way out to one side. It would've been harder to explain her to Schneider than to just let this happen. Ariel was the smallest person in the room in every respect except attitude, until Schneider got here.
Schneider Greco	"And yet, you seem like 'an arcanist' to me, my-lady," Schneider says to White on their way up. As for the rest-- a world where everyone can use magic-- she oddly seems to have no opinion she cares to reveal. She's already claimed to not care about the difference between 'humans' and 'arcanists', herself. Perhaps it's just a matter of no importance to her? Entering, there's only a split second where she has spare attention to pay to the 'nieces'. Schneider at last lets go of White's hand to politely curtsey from the knees, pinching out the hem of her coat and wiggle-waving with her free fingers around the bottle's neck like she's an adorable kouhai making first introduction to her new big sisters. But then Ariel stands up, and Schneider's eyes widen mid-curtsey. Her reaction time is superb, as measured by how long it takes her to lock on to bare tummy and thighs. Schneider's chin lifts, and her throat tightens with the tiniest 'ah...!', as if she's just witnessed an opponent's delectable secret technique. "My-lady," she purrs, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face with a marvelling blink-blink, "I have just-now realized, ahh, it must be a privilege of kings to dress as they like-- so why do none use it like you? The portraits in the hall... seeing you, I forget them already." Fortunately, Schneider is such an expert on high-class meetings. After passing off the bottle of golden wine to White (in a way that tacitly delegates her to 'wingman'), she does what her keen acumen intuits must be the upper-class greeting here: She puts up her fingers in a matching V and strikes a hip-out pose sharp enough that her coat-tassels jingle. "It is, mhmhm, my honor to meet you all. Please, I am called Schneider." The way she can look so dutifully adorable at the nieces while looking smokily intrigued at Ariel deserves a college course or a vivisection.
White	Ariel, to her credit or discredit, isn't a hesitant person. When Schneider passes the wine to White, who has a slight mouth-open look of surprise for just a moment as she's cradling it against her chest, Ariel makes a shameless 'oooh' sound and reaches over to pluck it up with her fingertips right out of White's grasp. As in battle, so in other matters; no scheme can defeat enough bullish momentum... Or something like that. The bottle goes from its neck-end pinched between fingertips to having its bottom grasped in her palm with a little toss, pretending to be more distracted than she is by examining the label and the wine itself. The corners of her mouth lower slightly, pausing shy of a frown, before creeping back up into a smirk at the same moment she turns nothing but her eyes to look at Schneider again. She's already teasing Schneider! White slinks around Ariel and the others, plucking the bottle back out of Ariel's hand without resistance, conjuring two glasses from the kitchen, pausing and then bringing a third one. With familiarity, White spreads the glasses around on the desk, wraps the cork in silk and pops it loose cleanly. If the wine foams over due to the earlier shaking, she's quick to form a tiny portal in her hand and intercept any spillage right back into a glass before it can touch anything else, before properly pouring each glass afterward. In the meantime Ariel turns to face Schneider properly again, albeit with one hand still poised on her hip while she bares teeth (with a pair of tiny fangs no less!) in a shameless giggle. "Mm, think it's the shame probably. Or maybe they're just that scared of knives, I dunno!" Both of her gloved hands go palm-up by her shoulders for a moment for an extra dramatic head-shake, to really rub it in against all those cowards of the past who wouldn't show tummy. Schneider's imitated greeting makes her smile simultaneously less toothful and more impishly steep, but she can conduct herself properly at least long enough to observe proper manners... When she wants to. "Nice to meetcha, Schneider~!" The slutty tilde is fully concentrated on the name, when she repeats it back. She tips forward slightly, rocking back on her heels while bending forward to keep balance while only inching slightly closer, her head at a slight tilt. "Hmm..." Then, like a rubber band, she's snapped back upright and spun on her heel to high-step her way back around the desk, slumping into her (stolen) fancy chair and immediately tipping it backward like an antsy highschool punk. "Just Ariel's fine! C'mon, get comfy! You brought drink, we gotta drink!" Asiding to White, who is several steps behind what's happening and shows it on her face, Ariel leans over and lowers her voice a little bit without even remotely trying to make it actually subtle, asking her "So Shiro-chan, where'd you dig up this cutie? She's new, right?" White's mental outline of the situation advances a couple steps on just the word 'cutie' alone, but she tries to pretend otherwise and placidly answers, "She's a new Partner... Or, representing a new Partner." Ariel nods with little 'mhm mhm' sounds as White speaks, then pivots back to Schneider, swiveling and clacking her chairlegs flat on the ground again so she can lean over the desk on her elbow. "Oh right, you're the hit-girl, yeah?" She points with two fingers at Schneider's hip, at one of her guns, and a thought manages to escape the floodgates of her brain unchallenged. "Damn! Can you even get your fingers around those, Schneidy?"
Schneider Greco	WHITE MUSCADINE, PETRELLI FARMS, 1919, the label says. There's no fizz, but an immediate aroma of apple-pear-banana-honeysuckle when the cork comes off. We're having girly drinks tonight. "Ah, 'Lord Ariel' has such a sweetness. But if you will be so cruel as to steal it from my tongue, 'Ariel' it is," Schneider purrs, while settling into her chair sideways with a little hip-shimmy. Her legs dangle over one arm of the chair, and her back lays over the other. Every so often, her shoes scuff together as her legs wiggle with enrichment. She looks to the nieces with an expectant warmth, then to the three glasses, and slightly frowns: "Oh, none for my shy new friends? Would-it not help to loosen their tongues? Or are they too young, as in America?" It's rude to leave them out! "Ah, and is sweet Fiel adopted...?" . . . Of course she's noticed the doll-hands, but what do those have to do with alcohol or relation? "Or maybe they're just that scared of knives, I dunno!" "Nothing frightens you, does it, my-lord?" Schneider says with warmly drooping eyes. "In my world, on-ly the desperate are fearless. The strong man fears a blade in the night; the pickpocket terrifies the rich man; even God is jealous to lose a single worshipper... the tighter one grips sand, the more it slips away. Is-that not pathetic, my-lord? But, you..." Schneider raises one hand and twists it. A thin swirl of misty red magic follows the twist, coalescing in her palm into the beautiful gun that's suddenly no longer in its holster. It's pointed-- up, so as not to menace anyone, of course. "You and 'Shiro-chan' are beautifully dif-fer-ent. Like my Lady Arcana." Her other hand slips into her coat, withdraws a single cigarette, and passes it over the table to Ariel. Schneider bats her eyelashes, now holding only the gun. "My fearless lord, shall I give you a light?" Relaxing still more, like a cat going liquid, Schneider reaches over to take her glass and savor a sip. She smiles above the glass's edge. "So, as you see, I can get my fingers around many things. My services have been made available as, ahhh... a business representative, an entertainer, security, and a gladiator, my-lord. And most anything else you might con-sid-er, besides." As a seeming non-sequitur, after a little glance to White: "... My-lord, what is it that you do for fun?"
White	Ariel shows it differently, but she's not enjoying this very much less than Schneider is; her slender body leans over the desk further than such fine furnishing has ever had cause to see before, and she enthusiastically gestures over it with both hands inbetween bouts of squishing one or both cheeks into her palms, alternating listening and responding with an anticipation that resembles how someone might unwholesomely watch a chessboard when pleasantly surprised with good competition. "Hmhm~, well, if you're going to be so sweet to me I might consider letting you have it back..." she teases, voice lilting like she's dangling bait on a line just a little too high for Schneider to reach. When the others are brought up again, she pivots right into the subject frictionlessly. She glances with a smile toward Riel and Fiel, who have settled into seats somewhere between White and Schneider but just a little bit scooted back (Fiel is still bouncing), and then cranes her neck to look at Sael still lurking in the opposite corner with her sleeve-smothered hands raised to just beneath her chin. "Oh, these girls? Well, it's not they aren't old enough, it's more..." She taps her chin with her fingertip, then gestures across her own lips with it. "They don't have mouths! Well, not like you think. The quadruplets are umm..." She sits up so she can use both hands to make a ball-shape, around the size of a baseball. "Itty bitty? 'Cause- You know what, it'd just be easier to show you." She beckons Fiel, who decides to skip the 'walking around the desk' part and leaps straight over the top of it onto Ariel, pivoting around awkwardly while Ariel sputters on her hair and half-heartedly swears under her breath, until the cat-eared girl is facing Schneider and Ariel has to lean around her to make eye contact again. "Phfeh, okay, not what I had in mind honey, but that's fine..." Ariel's tongue sticks out a moment while she swipes Fiel's hair away, and then her hands slip around the grey-haired girl's neck to cradle her skull and jaw across her fingertips. "Heave... Ho!" Fiel's head comes off in a smooth, seemingly effortless motion, and Ariel sets it aside with a gentle thud on the desk like it's a decorative item. There's no blood or anything, and even Fiel's neck looks quite a bit less convincingly real on the inside than the outside; it's a puppet body through and through, just with some extremely detailed work done to the outside. Out of the neck crawls a small brown hairless spider, littler and plainer than the ones White has made and shown off before. The little spider, Fiel, holds the ends of an uncountable number of silk strands that arc back down into the neck of her body using one leg, and waves her two forelegs in Schneider's direction like she's at a rave. Ariel, with the motionless puppet still in her lap and having to lean around it, delivers a shrug and a comfortable smile. "Like I said, real little. Though I guess they could have a bit... Oh, and it was Shiro-chan that helped them get their looks down! Fiel's just a little weirdo, they're all my grandbabies." White, ignoring Sael's slightly more anxious face-shrouding behaviors behind her as she watches her sister's head be removed, splays her fingers over the desk again and summons a quartet of shot-glasses instead of wineglasses as she senses Ariel's opinion turning. "Oh! Good idea Shiro-chan." White just nods.
White	White pours the wine-shots, each of the girls takes a small glass and guides it into their puppet-body interior with various levels of awkwardness or privacy, and Ariel fits Fiel's head back on for her once that's done before gently booting her out of her lap, whereupon Fiel starts slow-skipping circles around the room instead. Ael, the neat one with the blue ribbon that sticks up like bunny ears atop her head, touches her own throat and channels wind magic to gingerly vocalize "Thank you, La-dy... Sh... Snee..... Chn-eye-der... Sorry..." She seems a little remorseful to not be able to pronounce it first try, and motions a sigh with her shoulders and facsimile-of-a-mouth. Ariel seems pleased that Ael tried, at least. Her smile goes from thoughtful back to impish as Schneider praises her and White, murmuring "Hm, been a while." as she takes the cigarette and turns it end over end between her fingers like a pencil until it ends up between her lips and quirked at a slightly upward angle. "Like this?" is all she says about the 'light'; she looks smugly ready for whatever Schneider is going to show off with, while she speaks back. "... Some things scare me, 'course. But I've held on this long 'cause I gotta. And y'know, when something scares the hell out of you but you know you scare it too... Well, s' easier to fight like hell. I used to be a sick kid, you know? Lookit me now!" That's the first time Ariel's sounded less than enthused so far today, but she says it comfortably enough that it can't be her most vulnerable feeling on the topic. The little finger-gun gesture she makes probably doesn't help it feel serious either. "Li'l Shiro did mention your ghost-shooting thing at one point. Said it might be one way to deal with the dear old Pontiff eventually. But, that's on hold for right now. Security, I mean, I'm fine by myself so-" She awkwardly makes eye contact with White, who looks somehow displeased, and Ariel rolls her eyes trying to act dismissively. "Well, I'll keep ya in mind. You're fun, anyway." She beams another grin Schneider's way, but it does feel a little bit like she's trying to wriggle out of answering followup questions. The last question should be easy, but Ariel seems to wrestle with it a little bit and picks her glass up to take a big sip and let it sit on her tongue for a bit before she tries an answer- White seems to be trying to interpret the glance from Schneider, and failing handily. "Mmm... To be honest, I haven't had fun on the mind like that in a while. I get my laughs here and there, but... Oh, Shiro-chan did show me some anim- Err, Japanese cartoons, and those were pretty fun. We can't really install a TV anywhere here- no power grid-, so I can't do like I did pre-System and just veg out watching nature documentaries from bed. I go out and run, sometimes, but it's not like there's any big monsters left 'round here to get any sport out of... I do like to drink though!"
Schneider Greco	"I might consider letting you have it back..." Schneider, leaning in a nearly equal degree, silently bats puppydog eyes back at Ariel. Even flirty-teasing, they're unfairly cute. She has to cover her mouth for an adoring little giggle, then, when Fiel jumps the desk in true kitty fashion. "Oh--! Oh, Fiel..." she says knowingly, as if Schneider had known them for years now. She takes a big swig of her drink; in the middle of it, only raises her eyebrows and widens her eyes as Fiel's head pops right off; and then sets the glass down to reach over towards the bibby spider. "Oh, precious ciccina darling, you are. Gioia mia, ti voglio sempre bene, tu ti piaci a to nonna veru..." she murmurs, as if she were talking adoringly to a baby or a pet. Her delicate fingers rub together in front of the waving spider's face as an 'alert- I'm here' gesture, and then cup upwards nails-first to signal 'lean in if you want cheek-scritches'. "Thank you, La-dy... Sh... Snee..... Chn-eye-der... Sorry..." Schneider half-twists around to bite her pinky fingernail adoringly. Her little chair-draped legs kick. Goodness- are these younger sisters, not older ones?? She's never had those before!! "You are so wel-come, Ael. Oh, do not be sorry to me, the foreign words are hard! Mhmhm~." "Like this?" is all she says about the 'light'... As she fawns over Ael, Schneider is already reaching into her coat pocket for a silencer and starting to screw it onto the end of her pistol. Halfway through that process, she pours herself a second glass of wine and then drains most of it in one go. Uh. "Mmmh, from a sick child to 'demon lord'... you are quite something, Lord Ariel," she purrs, relishing the name again. Her tongue wets her lips. "Per-haps, it is that desperate start that made you both so 'fearless'? Once, I was a sickly orphan too... mhmhm, not that I am so far removed from that in majesty." Drinking at home and watching anime... Schneider tries not to make the look she gives White too obvious. 'Oh no, she does need help'. "Lord Ariel, we can talk bus-i-ness and pon-tiffs later." Without any hostility at all, Schneider casually points the gun at Ariel's face, reconsiders with a little frown, and then tilts her gun to the side, like she's just going to fire at the cigarette's tip at a blind weird angle while drunk. "To stay merely at home... oh, it pains my heart, that the world has been deprived of your light. There are places of pleasure, in their Multiverse, where you would not be thought strange. Lady Nat-su-ki of the Concord is such a proprietor. Might I, mmmhhh... convince you, to see what such places have to offer?" Cli-i-i-ck. Satisfied with the weird cattycorner angle she's going to use to not-quite-shoot-at-Ariel's-face, in a closed fucking office, Schneider's thumb pulls back the hammer. There is no evidence on her face that she knows this might be spooky.
White	Fiel, even revealed for the tiny creature she is, is unparalleled among her sisters for the sheer shamelessness with which she will devour attention. With Schneider fawning over her like that, even with all eight legs she still nearly trips over her own control-webs to wiggle up against those pale little fingers. If spiders were like this in the wild, they'd be extinct by now, but in company like this it's safe to say it'd be whoever wrongs her that becomes extinct instead. White gives a subdued smile that Ael across from her more comfortably exceeds, and Sael even slinks over from behind Schneider to slowly reach around and help her scritch her sister, like she'd never thought of this before. While this is happening, Ariel really flexes her strangely specialized knowledge as a spider-matriarch who watched a lot of nature television as a kid, fondly rattling off trivia before Fiel finally gets overstuffed on love and has to scamper off again like she's fleeing the ticklemonster. "Mm, they're super sweet. Puppet Taratects are real strong too, y'know? They've spent a lot of time getting their looks right, but their bodies are super tough too. We've all- well, not Shiro anymore, but the rest of us- got thread manipulation skills, and their bodies are actually made of tons of threads wound over and over, until it's like they can move every cell in their body... If the puppet gets damaged, they just patch it up later, and they can change whatever they wanna. It's really neat!" She says all this with the cigarette still bobbing from between her lips, and almost drops it once when her grin creeps back in a bit too quickly. She doesn't get to see this kind of sweetness often. White's obviously rather reserved and stoic usually, even if they do have their wavelength with each other. It almost doesn't seem like she and White need to say anything at all, going by the little bits of eye contact they keep making, and the way Ariel's expression changes a little each time. Schneider reaching for a silencer to screw it on does draw everyone's attention, but any objections are handled on the aforementioned nonverbal wavelength; White double-checks with a glance to Ariel, Ariel rolls her eyes a bit and refocuses a little extra reinforcement to her face, and the puppet spiders go from momentarily nervous to almost leaning in for a better view. Ariel even braces on the desk to hold extra still, crossing her eyes a bit trying to watch the tip of the cigarette and trying to talk without moving her lips too much, dropping to a lower register as a result. "Y'know, it's not a bad guess. I had six hundred years to get there though, Shiro speedran it in like, two or three. We used to fight, y'know? Not like they were long fights. Serious ones though. It just worked out that we both were so scary that neither of us wanted to keep it going... Well, we still didn't get along for a while exactly." White wiggles her face in a way that momentarily wrinkles her nose. "Your attack power... Was over sixty thousand... When my magic power... Was still under twenty..." She almost certainly means 'twenty thousand', but even still...
White	But, after a shitty little smirk from Ariel that makes it seem like she'd stick her tongue out if she could without dropping the cig, she focuses back on Schneider's suggestion. There's a moment where she's making eye contact with the woman holding a gun to her face, and it feels a little different from the casual instances of such thus far. She takes what she sees there as information, rolls it together with events so far and what she imagines White's intention was for arranging this today, closes her eyes for a single beat, and opens them again with a quiet hum. "... I can't go overboard. But... I haven't been too busy. I guess I could give it a shot... In honor of the lady with a gun to my face~." It's a little less saucy in tone than the last slutty tilde, but she throws in a quick wink as compensation. "I guess that Natsuki did seem like she'd know a fun time." The way her head tips slightly down so that she's looking up from beneath her brow, drawing attention to her bright eyeliner and long lashes, her little smirk with one fang slightly showing... She knows what she's doing. Or at least, she really thinks she does. There might not be a meaningful difference!
Schneider Greco	Ahhh, the cameraderie of a family... Schneider lets herself be taken in with it, eyes closing for a moment. The warmth of it soaks into her, and the timbre of her relaxation shifts a little more 'admiring' than 'smoky' even after. Whenever someone else in the room moves, Schneider sliiightly moves the gun; there's no sense trying to take the shot while Ariel's talking and the cigarette's bobbing, either. That consideration for mundane factors might be reassuring, or it might be even weirder. "'Attack power', La-dy White?" she says with a raised eyebrow and a glance back. "Ah, is this like 'horsepower'? They say, to use a technique only ten thousand times, one has mastered it..." Sorry White, she's about as far from RPG-brained as you can get. "But my, six hundred years. Lord Ariel, I may never have met one so experienced. Mhmhm, you will make me feel conscious of my youth." As if she wouldn't be otherwise? "Forgive me if I am, mmh... callow, ah?" "In honor of the lady with a gun to my face~." Schneider winks back with a tiny nod, slow and relaxed. Her cheek squishes into her free hand, her face barely two feet from Ariel's, with the gun resting on the table pointing sideways-and-up between them. "Oh, my-lord, you make my heart soar~. Up close, your eyeliner is beautiful. Do many tell you this? No, no, do not answer- hold your lips firm..." She parts her free hand from her face and holds it palm-up for a subtle arcane skill. Something like a droplet of fog, delicate, drips from finger onto palm and splashes. It has no lasting effect, someone like White can tell. Rather, it feels like 'double-checking', 'just in case'. Bang. (The silencer, really, just makes sure it doesn't hurt your ears.) The bullet clips just the last sixteenth-of-an-inch of the cigarette to light it; then hits the wall and whistles back by Schneider's own ear; then hits the ceiling; then falls back onto the desk, smooshed flat by impact with stone, and rattles like a spinning coin. Schneider stops its rattling by tapping it with the barrel of her pistol, but her adoring eyes don't leave Ariel's. She's used enough to her own gunfire that she didn't even blink. "Our magic is less forward than yours, my-lord. Still, even if you need no 'security'... I, ummm, dearly hope I can be made of use to you~." She disperses her gun with a back-twist of her hand, leaving the silencer rolling on the desk; sits upright at last with a stretch of both arms above her head; and pours herself a third glass of wine to knock back. Oh, wait. She's being rude, she realizes: Ariel and White both still need topping up! Pour, pour. There we go. "Perhaps you could start by telling me," she says, eyes a-sparkle, "what is 'overboard' to you, my-lord?"
White	White does open her mouth to elaborate on her RPG nonsense at first, but closes it again soon after. She's started paying more attention to the puppet-bodied girls, finding small things in Riel's outfit to fuss over like adjusting her sleeves; it's not hard to tell she's trying her best to pretend she's not there at all. She might not have the usual relationship one might with a grandma with Ariel, but it still feels like something she might be justified feeling a little weird about sitting in on... She wonders if maybe the pragmatic thing would be to watch and learn once she recognizes the flirting for what it is, but nearly every gesture or comment Ariel and Schneider delivers at this point feels like it's too high-level for her. She might have to excuse herself if- Oh hey, more wine. Yay! Ariel finds herself giggling, the pileup of RPG misunderstanding plus more compliments juxtaposed with the request to keep her lips firm making it so difficult not to try and sneak a quip in return anyway. The puppet spiders jump a bit when the gunshot goes off, White remains effortfully unbothered (she was watching Schneider's trigger finger so she's know when to expect it), and Ariel shuts one eye on reflex when the smooshed bullet falls in front of her after so many ricochets. Her lips purse curiously, and she pauses to breathe the smoke and stoke the ember-tip a bit before plugging the cig between two fingers and turning it over admiringly. "Huh... You practiced that one a lot for the ladies? Or were you just feeling it this time? Oh, and the eyeliner- it's been a while." White is in the midst of one long, continuous, slow sip after Schneider pours for them each. Not exactly proper form, but she's an appreciator of another sort. Ariel is briefly distracted seeing that, but it's not an issue yet. "Mmm... 'Made of use' huh? Well you're not some soldier-girl Schneidy..." Ariel says lightly chidingly with a bemused look on her face. "If you're too eager I might just keep making up excuses for more 'interviews'~. For nowwww..." She headtilts at White in a lazy nodding motion. "Overboard... I guess I'd rather not owe a lady like Natsuki a bunch of money suddenly, for one. Mmm... And it'd proooobably be bad to drink toooo much..." She drags out the words on purpose for emphasis; she's got a pretty good tolerance, but it seems like there's something on the other side of 'blackout drunk' that she'd rather not deal with, or maybe rather not make Schneider deal with. The cigarette goes between her lips again for another puff, testing it for taste more to learn about Scheider than for the smoke itself. Ariel's smoked before, but it must have been a pretty long time ago. Then, it's turned around toward the woman who provided it, loosely held out for her to take her turn with it. "'Course, you don't have to worry about that. I haven't had control problems since my 50's. If you wanted to get spun around a little though..." Aaand there's the smirk again. "Otherwise, I'm sure I can dig up some nice innocent questions. Family, hobbies... You give good examples y'know~. You have such an adorable look for the girls... Big family, maybe?"
Schneider Greco	"My-lord Ariel," Schneider breathes, pushing the coin-flattened slug across the table like a gift, "it is too-rare my practice with a gun is 'for the ladies'. Too often it is for the men." At some point she'd caught the ejected casing too. It dances between her fingers after she sets her third empty wine-glass down, the other half of a matching pair. Brass isn't so far from gold; it goes with her jewelry well. 'More interviews'... "Mhmhm, what an enticing reward for me. You will tell me, my kindly lord, if I am not being 'eager' enough?" She's given up on lounging sideways, but her legs are crossed (she might not be decent if they weren't) and halfway drawn-up; when every chair's too big for you, you learn to get playful with it. No longer being draw-me-like-one-of-your-french-girls posed doesn't dim her energy at all, though, as she shortly proves. Her hand comes up to gently refuse the cigarette, trailing along Ariel's wrist as she does. "If I am choosing the place, my-lord, don't I pay? And, mhmhm... there has yet to be a drunk who was too much for me. I should be flattered, if Lord Ariel wished to be the first." There's such a purring 'innocence' to her. As power normally creates fear rather than confidence- the paradox she's praised White and Ariel for- so vice normally creates hardness. Yet Schneider, a drunk and a killer and a flapper on top of it all, remains sincerely dewy-eyed. The night to her is still something tender. "You have such an adorable look for the girls... Big family, maybe?" "Mhm~." The change in topic startles her a little, but it's a pleasant-enough topic. Schneider slips free from her coat, and it slides from her shoulders to bunch around her hips. Somehow, having her bare arms out makes her feel a little less transgressively sensual, or at most a lateral move. "I have twelve wonderful older sisters," she says, "and my parents, of course. The Grecos have been kind to me. There was-not always enough to eat, but..." Her fingers trail from her own skinny ribs up to her hairband with the pearls. "Our fortunes have come around. To see the dinner-table laid with treasures, and their faces alight- oh, this fills me with joy. Do you understand?" Hobbies? "To dance; perhaps to fight... ah, I have always liked to watch the birds, my-lord. And for a while I had begun to paint." She looks back at White too, half to ask "And what is it you do for fun, Shiro-Chan?", and half to make smiling eye contact while offering the whole wine bottle to Ariel, to gauge how bad a idea that might be.
White	White, having met Ariel's request and checked her phone briefly, looks back up at Schneider when her nickname is invoked, looks up a little higher to show she's thinking, then looks down again. "... I practice my weaving. Like with the... Stuffed animals. I visit lots of worlds... So I can teleport there... Again, later. But also... To try the food. I people-watch... And sometimes I fish..." She seems like she could eventually dig up a couple more things, but she looks down at her phone again. "... Apologies, Miss Schneider. I need... To step out for a while. Please enjoy yourselves." She does see the bottle being handed over to Ariel, who takes it as naturally as if someone had offered her a half-sandwich during a picnic. White shakes her head slightly with the barest hint of a smile that slips away again as she turns to excuse herself from the room, gently closing the door behind herself for the time being.
White	Ariel pushes the edge of the flat-pressed bullet down against the desk with her fingertip until the pressure makes it flip a short way into the air, onto the back of her hand. She lets it slide to her knuckles, then rolls it between her fingers while the other hand turns the cigarette back around at Schneider's refusal. "Hey, Shiro, one of Balto's people likes cigars right? Snag their tray, wouldja?" White nods without lowering the wineglass from her lips for a few more moments, finally setting it down two-thirds drained and conjuring a glossy black ashtray from elsewhere in the manor just like she had the shotglasses and wineglasses previously. It looks like the inner surface is made of obsidian, while the outer surface is a richly dark wood that compliments the color in a way that would naturally belong in a coffee shop of high means. Ariel smiles encouragingly with Schneider's hand touching her wrist, turning her own hand over slightly while mindfully keeping the ash from dripping onto the desk. Her hands are fairly small too, but her fingers are a little longer, and if looked at closely Schneider can see the faint lines of very old scars. They're small and faint, from injuries that were healed promptly more often than not, but there's enough of those tiny pale lines on her knuckles and palms that it almost obscures her natural skintone. "I think you're plenty eager, it's refreshing." she says in a gentle murmur, like she's distracted watching Schneider's hand. "And, hehe, well... Since you're being so kind, I'll take you up on that offer. If I'm not working... Might as well play, hm~?" Ariel's eyes flit down at the same time her thumb brushes back deliberately against Schneider's arm, and it might get across that she's thinking about scooping Schneider right out of that chair she keeps finding new ways to artfully misuse... She is pacing herself though. It's been a while since she had company like this, and she's still enjoying the process of feeling out the boundaries. Talk of family is more innocent, but Ariel smiles agreeably about the sentiments, and quirks an eyebrow slightly at the number of Schneider's sisters, like she isn't being a hypocrite to be surprised like that. "Wow, youngest of twelve... It's great, that you have more of what you need now. Someone worked very hard for it, I imagine." She isn't a hundred percent sure that someone was Schneider yet, but it seems safe to imply so, and if Schneider were to correct her it'd still be a chance to gush about whichever member of her family stepped up. "... I didn't realize until recently, how much I could miss having people to eat together with. Even just campfire-grilling and polishing off a cheap keg under the stars... It's always better than eating alone." Hearing Schneider talk about her own interests makes Ariel giggle almost meanly for a moment though, particularly at 'fighting'. "And here I was told that wasn't a hobby... Painting isn't something I've really tried, but the girls had a lot of fun with it recently. Birds, though... Mmm, are there a lot of types, where you're from? ... Oh, wow, how long has it been since I've seen a pigeon, must've been a few hundred years..." Everybody has nostalgia-shock now and then, though only someone on a Demon Lord's timescale could reasonably have it over there being no more pigeons.
Schneider Greco	"Now? Oh, I do love your sense of adventure, my-lord," Schneider says as Ariel takes the whole bottle. Her sparkling eyes wander the map of scars on Ariel's hand, slightly widening as if she were appreciating fine jewelry. With a little giggle, withdrawing: "Oh, Lord Ariel, it is not a hobby to kill. That is only for feeding one's family- though, no work to feed one's family is 'hard'. Whether it is a hobby to fight, mmmmh..." Her eyes drift upwards, thinking. "... Everyone loves to take off their clothes, but the one doing it on stage, she would not call it a 'hobby'." Why'd she have to put it like that? She does reciprocate the thumb-brushing with her trailing fingers, though, from wrist to fingertip: "Ah, but your hands are so soft for their scars! It is, mhmhm, enchanting? This is a good symbol of our Lord Ariel, I think." Schneider's scars, for the hits White has known her to take these last couple missions, are surprisingly sparse. Possibly she's used to being cleaner; possibly her world's healing prevents scarring. Either way, there's just a few places where bullets might have gone... and a thin gauze covering on her abdomen, til-now almost hidden under the red feathers. It's astounding how effortlessly sinful she can be while still injured. She approves warmly of White's hobbies, swishing her near-empty glass with an air of pleasant surprise: "Ahh, good... my-lord could learn from you, Lady White." Standing, she takes Ariel's beckoning to pivot around and sit down on the edge of the desk, leaning back slightly towards Ariel with legs crossed. "Per-haps, if she enjoys the, ummm... 'rustic', when you go to a new world...?" Ah, White's leaving. Schneider sees her off with a tiny wave. Click, goes the door. "'Please enjoy ourselves'... mhmhm," she repeats distantly, and then twists her body to look back (and down) at Ariel from her in-reach desk-top perch, looking puckish. "Have I been too forward for her, my-lord?" That is a hell of a thing to ask when she's close enough for Ariel to smell the fruity wine on Schneider's breath.
White	Ariel does seem momentarily distracted when the door closes, but tries to push it aside with a small hum as she takes a sloshy swig straight from the bottle. "... I guess it was for 'work' then." she murmurs. It takes her a moment to spool back up for Schneider, and it seems like she tries to kickstart the process by reaching right over the desk, scooping Schneider up under the thighs and drawing her right over until the smaller woman is laid sidelong across her lap, legs over the armrest like she was earlier. The Puppet Spiders react to this with varying degrees of seriousness; Sael and Riel gawk, with the former remaining inscrutable and the latter seeming playfully scandalized, Fiel motions to cover her mouth like she's gasping or squealing, and Ael's bow seems to stiffen upward like alerting rabbit-ears before she takes the cue to wrangle her siblings at last. Whether Ariel had any intention of privacy or not, she play-salutes Ael with two fingers from around the neck of the winebottle, settling into the chair with a wiggle while carefully holding Schneider with an arm looped along her far side and settled on her hip. The Puppet Spiders are ushered out by their (self-assigned) older sister Ael, and Ariel lets out a slow breath that isn't quite relaxation, but doesn't sound bad either. "... Seems like you cleaned it up well. I didn't smell anything." she distantly notes, looking right down at the gauze now that she notices it. She lets that thought be set back on a proverbial shelf though, loose-cradling Schneider against her similarly-small body and letting her wiggle her way to a comfortable position however she needs to. "Too forward... I don't think she expected it? She's still young... Just started dating someone, I think they only just got to 'holding hands', so..." Ariel swivels the wrist of the hand that's holding the winebottle, then taking another drink. The bottom of the bottle tips upward like she's considering showing off by drinking it all at once, but then it dips down again before she can commit to that just yet. "Maybe I should go visit another world with her, now that you mention it. She's been fretting over me like a baby ever since- well, I guess that's not really it. It's just been a while." It's not clear if it's the specific amount she's drank or just a personality quirk, but Ariel seems strangely more sober right now, like there's a valley she's still working on climbing up the other side of. Maybe having Schneider in her lap like a big warm stuffed animal helps with that, and she even rests her cheek on Schneider's charming curls if they align right for it. "... I guess it might have to wait a bit, though. Things got complicated, didn't they? She doesn't normally have her phone that handy while she's here..."
Schneider Greco	By the warm-cozy "mmh..." that Schneider reacts to the scooping-up with, she can only have been trying to entice exactly that reaction. "Such strong arms, my-lord," she says, comfortably nestling her head right under Ariel's chin via a combination of native tininess and curl-slouched spine. She gives a warm-playful little wink to Ael, tilting her head: "Thank you for the company, kind family-of-hers. I should like very-much to see you soon also?" And then, once they're gone, she leans back in against Ariel with a fond breath out against her collarbone. "Mm, what sweet girls..." One of her hands runs down Ariel's arm, until it's laying atop the hand that rests on Schneider's own hip: a wordless 'don't let go'. Her thumb strokes along Ariel's knuckles fondly; her other hand lifts up to lay atop Ariel's head, a matching 'stay' for the cheek resting on Schneider's hair. Then a hip-wiggle settles her in even more cozily. "Seems like you cleaned it up well." "Hmmm?" Schneider says, as if she has no idea what Ariel's talking about. But she gives the lie away by not looking down. "It's nothing, my-lord... just a scratch. If I let such things stop me-" Liiittle stretch, 'mnh'. "-I would never find time enjoy myself. And what a tragedy that would be~." "Lady White... she means well, but our motives, they are different. She wants you to see more of the world-- and I, I want the world to see more of you. Mhmhm, though, I am the world's ambassador~..." Schneider is just reaching up to touch the bottom of that wine bottle- tipping it 'up', encouraging her beautiful lord to drink- when... "Things got complicated, didn't they?" "Hm? I haven't heard from the Concord, unless... ah..." Her finger drops from glass. Her cheek nestles in against Ariel's neck with a winding-down breath. "... I am, nnhhh... my employers, are in conflict with some friends of Lady White's." That's the best she can simplify. She sounds a little remorseful, despite her best attempts at keeping things cozy; her fingernails doodle through Ariel's hair. "Yesterday, she took my side... ahh, in the dramatic way of hers I'm-sure you know." "She fears they may think less of her, now, by contamination. And, mmh, maybe they do." Thinking about it has Schneider's heart rate slightly up- odd how Ariel can feel it, even through the wrong side of her ribcage pressed-in. "She, too, might need care from me... mhmhm, though likely of a different kind. I hadn't thought her the 'dating' type at all."
White	With Schneider getting comfortable, she can probably feel when Ariel smiles against the top of her head and gives her a little squeeze. Talking about the injury, Ariel hums like she's considering poking a little fun about Schneider's response, but eases off to just a soft-commisserative note in her tone instead. "Well, if that isn't familiar I wouldn't know what is. If it stings, lemme know?" As long as Schneider seems comfortable... Ariel's just about to follow the cue to drink more, but when Schneider eases off Ariel follows a moment after getting her next mouthful of wine, letting the bottle down again and licking her lips. She turns the bottle in her hand, watching the way the glass distorts the light from the window behind them while she listens, and her nods turn into slow cheek-rubs atop Schneider's head. "That does make sense..." She isn't fully clear which part she's referring to, while she pauses for a few moments in thought. "... Li'l Shiro's really impulsive. Dunno if you've noticed. She kind of... Forgets to be scared of things going bad, until she's already jumping into the swamp with both feet, right? But..." Now, Ariel sort of swivels her wrist, making the wine slosh faintly, and eventually lets out a little laugh that sounds a tiny bit embarrassed. "She'll figure something out. She always does. It's like... It really eats at her, when she gives up on something. She really hates that. And I mean, she was the last Ruler of Perseverence, so I guess it tracks, but..." Another pause, a tiny sniff, and then a sigh as she tries to relax against Schneider again. "She worked really hard for those connections. She won't give up easy. I mean, she used to say barely one full sentence a week, back when she and I met. Now she's almost at 'casual conversation', right? And dating-" Ariel snickers a bit and shakes her head, rubbing against Schneider a little more. "I don't think she planned on it either, she's still calling Angela 'Miss' constantly, right? It's funny, but I feel a little bad for Angela too... Anyway." Ariel takes a slow, deeeeep breath, holding the winebottle out to one side until one of the broad strips of her strange cloak reaches up to grasp it instead, freeing her hand up to reach down and brush Schneider's cheek. "Just try an' make it easy to help you, yeah? If you've got her support, I've got no complaints."
Schneider Greco	"Mmmmhhh..." Oh, Schneider loves the cheek-rubs atop her head. "What should I tell you for, my-lord? Would a little sting not be worth this?" she teases. Her fingers come up, silently offering to ash Ariel's cigarette for her, while the other arm remains draped around the Demon Lord's shoulders to cradle her head above. "Could it be, my-lord does not know quite how comfortable she is...?" Fingernails keep scratching at Ariel's scalp lightly, until they part to marvellingly stroke the strip of cape instead- 'good servant,' the gesture might be saying; as if it were a coatman for Ariel and not a limb. "Ahh. Lady White is built well as a consigliere, but..." She sighs, softly, and lounges back towards the arm of the chair- regretfully parting her head from Ariel's cheek- just enough to look up into Ariel's eyes. Her eyelids flutter a little. To think of weighty topics drags Schneider out of the relishing warmth of being held; but the more she does it, the more she wants to sink back in fully. Anticipation, itself, can be savored. That could be the only source of her yearning bittersweetness. "... it does cause anguish to the heart of a friend, my-lord, to see her so. I should like to be as light to her, as I am to you. Yet Lady White will not tell me how to ease her burden- 'I have chosen your side', she says, and that is the end..." Cheek-brushed, she beams with her eyes still smoky-sleepy. "Perhaps, Lord Ariel, it takes someone like Lady An-gel-a or you to handle her. I am beginning to see why you are so, mmmh, wonderfully 'forceful'."
White	Ariel has a cute reaction to being called 'comfortable', letting out a sound that's halfway between a scoff and a giggle. "Well, good. Mm... Not every day I can hold someone like this." She passes the smoke over when Schneider offers, and brushes her fingers over the tray as well; she'd held it angled up with her hand or fingers in between for a while to keep ash from falling on Schneider in her lap. Scratches at her scalp earn more soft giggles, and the play with her cape leads to that strip of fabric bending its spike away and arcing down to nudge cool and rounded metal against Schneider's forehead. These distractions help her pace the more difficult stuff, giving both of them time to find their words and mind their tension, but Ariel still comes up thoughtfully uncertain. "... Yeah. I get you. It's a little weird honestly..." Ariel shifts a bit, cradling Schneider's back loosely so they can make eye contact, and smiles awkwardly like she knows she doesn't have a good answer. "For all that she does, she's still kind of a kid, you know? She doesn't like being bossed around, and she doesn't like giving up on something once she's worked hard on it. She likes when people do things for her normally, but if you try to help her with some things she gets really anxious... I think she tries to look reliable, but I get kind of worried just because she won't tell me everything, either." Ariel takes a moment to sigh and shake her head, hamming it up with a little extra resignation thrown into the gesture for dramatic effect, maybe to try and make it feel less serious. "... You're quick, though. If you want her to listen to you, sometimes you gotta really hammer it in. I mean, I sometimes hafta hit her on the head too, but you can probably get away with less! You've got an adorable pleading face n' all~." Ariel leans in to plant a little kiss on the bridge of Schneider's nose and rest her forehead against theirs for a moment before drawing back enough to meet her eyes more comfortably again. "... I guess there's one thing I could tell you, but I don't know how useful it'll be." she admits finally, snagging the wine back from her cape and taking a long drink like she's making up for lost time, wiping her mouth clean after. She still doesn't seem tipsy though, as much as 'comfortably melted into the chair'. "White either won't gamble at all, or she'll go straight for the jackpot. Like a trapdoor spider, y'know? She sets up, she waits, and waits... And waits. Then bam, everything happens at once. She doesn't like being stuck out in the open, doin' work slow and steady... She's patient, but in an anxious kinda way. Sooo..." Ariel pauses, glancing off upward somewhere and rolling her jaw hesitantly, before finishing, "... If she's betting her friends, it's because she's pretty sure she won't lose them. Not forever, at least. But it's still going to really suck for her in the short term. So... Don't waste whatever she's doing for you. And I dunno, maybe surprise her in a nice way somehow? I dunno how, since she's not a party girl and she doesn't remember anything that happens when she drinks anyway, but... Man, I'm bad at advice."
Schneider Greco	"Not every day I can hold someone like this." "Mhmhm. It should be every night, my lord," Schneider says as she hands the cigarette back; but the sigh that backs her words says she knows it can't be so. % T"There are, ahhh... not-many of your subjects smaller than you, Lord Ariel?" She shakes her head sympathetically. "And still, they are so obedient... ahhh. I shall-not be jealous, but, even my most loyal men, they sometimes seem embarrassed of me." The kiss against Schneider's nose is retaliated for, with one against Ariel's throat. An airily-satisfied noise bubbles up, but Schneider's cheeks shade a little closer to her red feathers anyway, and it likely isn't the work of the alcohol alone. Her arms drape around Ariel- one behind shoulders, the other below chest- getting huggy as she settles in to listen. (Mid-talk, she rubs at her eye, almost getting yawny... no, Schneider, don't get that comfy!!) But at the end, her tongue clicks, not-quite-satisfied. "Make sure my-lady's gamble pays her well, let her bear it through, and give her nice surprises... ahhh." Atop the opposite arm of the chair, Schneider's shoes knock together restlessly as she thinks. "So, I am to build my-lady's confidence and help her be less shy, and never-ever give her the drinks. It is, my-lord, as if I finally have a younger sister." She laughs. "You are not-used to this either, my-lord? I shall, mmmh, learn to handle it. If she is a fat little dumpling too..."
White	Ariel takes the cigarette again, smiling impishly back at Schneider's wistful sigh. "I can compromise~." She seems to understand though, looking into her eyes and feeling the gentle squeeze she follows it with. The look does turn slightly more complicated, maybe even bashful when Schneider talks of her subjects' obedience. She does end up giggling again at the kiss to her neck, as if it tickled, but her head wobbles to either side as she wrestles with admitting, "I mean... That's more of a, uh, recent development. It's not like the Demon Army is all that fond to be led by a Demon Lord who isn't a Demon, or her three mysteriously new and young confidants... When it was just me, it wasn't nearly that clean, but I took a little advantage of that. Just a teensy bit." She makes a pinching gesture with her finger and thumb, for illustration, while sticking the tip of her tongue out. Ariel certainly won't be the voice of reason with regard to Schneider's comfort in her lap, though! If anything, she's quite the enabler, cradling Schneider closer again and gently rubbing her shoulder and neck in slow circles. "Is that how it is? You know, I never had a younger sister either... But Li'l Shiro's a pretty good one. Don't have to worry about her getting lost, at least! ... Well, in hindsight at least. We did have a couple of scares... She went to another planet for over a week without telling anyone, almost the day after Wrath got brought here y'know? The nerve of her sometimes..." But, that's something to scoff and chuckle about now. "... We can figure it out together, yeah? She brought you here, so she can't complain if we scheme a little. Oh, though, if you do call her 'fat' you might find out how she punishes Sophia, just an FYI there."