Scene #1286: A Dinner Debt

Owner	Pose
Landon al Cid	Landon al Cid is not the kind of man to welch on debts. Honesty, dignity, and generally treating people like they're worth time and honor are all family traits of the al Cid family; even if they weren't, Landon is a decent man who upholds his word, particularly where his friends are concerned. And, while he doesn't know Mirielle Edelweiss very well just yet, the Light Warriors club trusts her. He, in turn, trusts them. If they say she's good enough to count among his friends, then she's good enough to count among his friends, and she deserves to be treated like one. Landon also repays his debts...quite thoroughly. Mirielle is invited out to dinner in Ramuh, at one of the more upscale restauraunts in the city. The view from the skyscraper is gorgeous. Looking out from the window seat, one can see the vast, spreading city stretching all directions. Though the sky above is covered in clouds, rain, and lightning, the city below is a spreading series of constellations forged of glass, magic, and steel. The beautiful city spreads out as far as the eye can see, a glorious triumph of mankind over nature. Landon himself is dressed in his formal armor, sitting at one of the tables. He's got a food taster nearby, but it isn't Cirra, and while a few Judges are sitting around the place, none of them are Cirra, either. Apparently Landon isn't as clueless as some protagonists when it comes to women.
Mirielle Edelweiss	Though Landon al Cid doesn't know it, Mirielle is likewise not one to welch on debts... And not one who'd you want to welch out on. Thankfully, there was no welching involved! Landon makes up for his promise and then some, surprising Mirielle with a DINNER GETAWAY TO RAMUHA, with a PRIVATE ROOM in an UPSCALE RESTURANT. And not an excessive amount of time to prepare for it, either. Thankfully, Mirielle is a fairly task-oriented person, and though the dinner offer was sudden, formal functions were something Mirielle was prepared for. She arrives, shortly after Landon, and the transformation is fairly massive. Landon may not even understand that it's Mirielle that arrived! She's wearing a shiny black long dress, with black stockings and shoes with a slight heel. Her dress seems to be a depiction of the clear night's sky filled with stars, and silver clouds shift along, powered by magic. Her dress is magic. It's actively magic. Her hair is not in a pair of ponytails, as well, her wheat-golden hair hanging down her back longly and drifting behind her. Her glasses, finally, are nowhere to be seen, though there's not much that can be done for her dark purple-nigh-black eyes. She sits down across from Landon, smiling sheepishly. "S-sorry. I had to get ready." She murmurs, looking around. "This place is very nice. We could have always gone someplace on Chocobo, you know. It'd be more convenient for me. I don't... Ah... know as many people around here. B-but this is okay too!" She offers, raising her hands defensively. "This is more than okay. I, erm..." Her gaze falls into her lap. "... You didn't have to do all of... this."
Landon al Cid	Landon does things like this right. This is not, so to speak, his first choco-rodeo; when Mirielle enters, he stands, as is proper, and gets a very long, very good, look at her. It's not unfair to say that she's beautiful. She is, in fact, gorgeous. Landon appreciates her quietly as she enters, taking a moment to enjoy the view. Of course he does; he's a teenager first, at the base of all other things. His blood may be royal, but it's the blood of a teenage hume. He appreciates a beautiful woman like any other red-blooded male, even if his heart may lie elsewhere. Although...really, does he even know where his heart lies? "Nonsense," Landon replies cheerily as he moves around to pull out her chair, "There are proper ways to apologize. This is most definitely it. I may not have needed to do all such things, but this is neither trouble, nor unpleasantry. You look beautiful, Lady Edelweiss." Landon sits down and smiles. "Sincerely."
Mirielle Edelweiss	There's a quiet... little murmuring, her lips moving, but Mirielle doens't speak. She seems startled, as Landon pulls out her chair, but when he acts like a PERFECT GENTLEMAN, she gives him a distant, spacey sort of smile, that becomes more genuine as she looks at him. It was something that she appreciated someone doing, and it took her just a moment to realize who it was. But the flicker of distant, spacey attention and direct, knowing appreciation is quick. She knows where she is. She wanted to do this. "T-thanks, Prince Landon. I tried to find something on short notice that would be appropriate for having dinner with the /Prince/ and not just a classmate. Thankfully, I know a number of people, all of whom owe me in some way." She replies, before settling into her chair and clasping her hands in her lap. "S-so, um, is this the sort of place where the food just comes?" She wonders, curous. "Oh! You look wonderful too. Um, is the food taster necessary? And... The guards? I didn't bring my knife! Or my staff, or, you know, many of my things. Is it just normal, for you, to have a retuine? ... Sorry, that's a bad question." She murmurs. "At school, I sort of have one too. But... Around here, I'd only have... handlers. Or, you don't know my family, do you?" She wonders, fidgiting and playing with her hair and generally being mildly anxious. With the PRINCE! RIGHT THERE! CALLING HER BEAUTIFUL! AAAAAAH!
Landon al Cid	Landon takes a moment to shake his head. "I had strict orders for the menu not to arrive until you did. I thought it terribly unfair if I had already decided before you arrived. Besides," he adds, slightly conspiratorially, a wry smile framing his lips, "Looking at menus tends to make me hungry." He heaves a sigh and leans back in his chair as she asks the questions he knew she was going to ask. Everyone asked that, so it wasn't like it was /distressing/ or /new/ or /upsetting/, and indeed, there's nothing on his face that would suggest he's any such thing. If he's anything, he's entertained by the inquiry, and by the assertion that he had nothing to fear from her. "It's not that we're worried about you," Landon assures her, "If I was worried that you might be out to hurt me, I wouldn't've invited you out, and the Light Warriors certainly wouldn't've trusted you with access to their secrets. No, it's you that we're worried /for/." Landon leans forward again and steeples his fingers in front of his face, watching her carefully. His eyes are honest and determined as he continues. "My presence makes things dangerous for my friends, for the people I care about. People have been trying to kill and exploit me for my entire life because of who I am and who I was born. It boggles me to think that our Extraversal allies believe me to be some sort of fairy-tale character, because from where I sit, nothing could be further from the truth. I need a poison taster for every meal I didn't make myself, in case someone tries to poison the school lunch to get to me. I need guards everywhere I go, in case someone tries to shoot me from afar with arrow or bullet or magic. I..." Landon rubs his face, putting on a smile again. "It isn't you that I mistrust, Lady Edelweiss. In truth, if they weren't necessary, they wouldn't be here. None of them will speak a word of this to anyone, either. Strictly confidential." The food taster nods and leans forward. "I will be sampling each of your meals," he offers, a polite and kind smile on his lips, "In the event that someone attempts to indirectly poison the Prince through your meal, or poison you in order to make him vulnerable. Please, think of me as if I'm not even here." Landon laughs and nods at the man, who laughs with him. The food taster seems more like a family member than a servant. In fact, the Judges are also chuckling freely, suggesting similar relationships. "No, Lady Edelweiss, I'm afraid I haven't done much research on your family. Should I have? Are there things I ought to know?"
Mirielle Edelweiss	"Ah." Mirielle repeats, continuing to fidgit lightly as Landon continues to talk. That he had been waiting for her. That he had cared about her being there before he started. That he would laugh and joke around her, that he was so... disarmed. Casually. Becuase she was part of a club. Because she filled out a /form/. Because she, Mirielle Edelweiss, answered survey questions. One part of her can't stop laughing, that part she imagined like a black photonegative her - a vessel for untold wickedness, a part of her that no amount of memory loss seemed to dislodge - carrying on and on about how EASY it was to gain his confidence, how trivially it would really be to betray him. And then where would Ramuh be? It would be so easy! It sat, draped like an angel, across her star-speckled right shoulder, and giggled darkly in her ear. It sat, without halo or bat-wings, without harp or spaded tail. A figment of her fractured psyche. Nervously, she adjusted her dress across her shoulder on the right, brushing some hair out of the way and smiled. "It's dangerous, you know. To trust someone so easily. N-nobody has told /me/ any secrets. Erm..." She pulls out a notebook, flipping through pages before, while marking her place with a finger, she withdraws a second to check. "Oh, yes, no, no secrets. Soan is an adept Thief, Kamon is a scary Parivir - a family trait, Kyras cooking is lethal, Dominics the pride of the Fencing Squad..." She flips through a few more pages, though the trivia swiftly dries up. "I mean, we all have secrets. Youre not an open book either! Trust me. I, erm, have a lot of experiences. With books. And... Opening them." She blanches. What a stupid line! "A-anyway, maybe... You could be hurt, or I could be /evil/, or..." She trails off. Landon, surrounded by friends. He was relaxed, here, as relaxed as she had seen him. Surrounded by Judges that even now probably looked at her with dark, veiled looks. Why did she /say/ that? Such a /shady/ thing! Why does she always do those kinds of things? Her shoulder 'devil' just laughs and laughs, sprawling across her girlish shoulder and running her tiny figment fingers along a dangling bang of hair. Shady. Of course its shady! Thats what she is. Shade is her element! The shade of a throne, or the shade of drawn curtains, of back rooms and smokey card tables, of doors with slats and passwords, of horrible unrepeatable amounts of little white-collar crimes, of worse, of breaking people because they crossed her, because while she couldnt manage benevolence, she could manage cutthroat competence, and fear. Fear was easy, as was respect. People understood fear, and the wake respect created rippled outward, more and more powerfully. Fear was resistant, like respect. Or, well, rather, it doesnt, the tiny laughing her being all a horrible figment of her imagination, but she spools the errant lock of hair around a nervous finger all the same, her gaze restrained and drifting around the room. "You must think me mad, I suppose. Erm, not... not the angry kind. The crazy kind. Just like all the rest, really. I mean, its normal for us to get this way, you know... Worse, actually..." She begins, before, almost startledly... "Wait, you dont know?" The fidgiting intensifies. "Well... Theyre... Really? Sight unseen? You dont know what /I/ am? Im just... some Calculator, to you?" She asks, confusion and doubt clouding her eyes.
Landon al Cid	There's a reason Landon is so secure, and it isn't carelessness. His friends were willing to trust her and see her as their friend, and so he was also willing to reach out his hand to her in friendship. And if she betrayed them...well, he was careful about what he said on the radio. He didn't talk about state secrets. He might discuss the impending war, the problems of the world, and diplomatic situations a bit more freely than he might otherwise, but he didn't say much about his home life, or his family life. He didn't talk about things that would be ruinous to him. Landon had, in fact, managed a careful balance of not talking about anything particularly important to him while also ventillating his stress onto the channel carefully. Landon, in fact, kept his own thoughts very close to the chest. Only people he trusted with his life knew of the Freelancer secret. Only people he knew - he /knew/, without a doubt - not to be dangerous to him learned his real secrets. And only the people he trusted most in the world - at the moment, his family and a few of the Judges - knew his really big secrets. So it is with a calm smile that Landon shifts a bit, watching her and listening. He volunteers no thoughts at first, letting her go on. Finally, he shakes his head. "First of all, I'm not a porcelain doll. I'm quite capable of taking care of myself even in a situation like this. I know that Cirra and others may fuss over me like I am, but I'm not. I'm as well-trained a Judge as can be, and I'm perfectly capable of fighting even without my Law Cards." He shrugs gently and looks out the window. "I'm not really worried about you hurting me. I'm fairly sure I can hold my own long enough to escape whatever tricks you're capable of, even without a small cadre of bodyguards." "So if you are 'evil', then, well..." Landon gestures, "I imagine that it'll be rather difficult to poison my food, and it's unlikely you'll be able to kill me before I escape." The taster purses his lips and laughs. Then he leans over and murmurs something in Landon's ear. Landon's eyes widen a bit as he turns to look at Mirielle. "A Summoner, really?" Landon asks, curiousity leaping into his voice at a moment's notice. "I had no idea, Sister Edelweiss. I admit, I've been...busy...lately, but I had no idea whatsoever! This is a great honor." Several of the Judges incline their heads politely to her, presumably indicating that they're remarkably religious. The food taster does the same. A waiter comes out and hands them menus a moment later.
Mirielle Edelweiss	There's a tiny pause... Before Mirielle just laughs. It's a genuine laugh, as she just loses it. "O-okay, Prince Landon. You're not a doll. But you have someone tasting your food for you! I mean, no offense, sir." She offers, to the food taster, with a polite smile. "But you're not really taking care of yourself. I don't think Lady Dolet or Lord Masoch have a food taster for their pizza!" She continues, just finding the whole idea... Funny. "I'm sorry, really, I am, I'm... trying to wrap my head around the world you live in. The strange casual-ness of everything. To me, the world normally is... data points. Interesting numbers. Outliers. Food is just food. It has nutritional values. Some food is better than others. I can rate it by taste, too, but that's a bit more subjective. It's not something that could poison me, and even if it does, I know a few white magic spells to handle it. Past that, I have some white mage friends, to solve any problems I can't. Though, honestly, if someone wanted to kill me, they could just do it. It's not like I have any special powers to stop them." She shrugs, looking around almost nonchalantly. "Though I suppose I'm also not the sort where a cadre of judges and a personal food-tester is considered necessary accessories for dinner." She notes. There's no real edge to her voice. In fact, it's a sort of warm, conversation analytic. Like she was talking interestedly about a hobby, or the weather, or an article they read and were interested by. The laughing taste-tester, and Landon's assurances that really, he's confident even if she was a vile, evil person he could escape, causes her to smile yet more herself. It is kind of enjoyable, to sit and banter. Then... The color drains from her face. 'A Summoner'. "N-no, really, I mean, well, yes... by birth. And upbringing. But if you can see, I am quite, ah, not there. In the temple. With my own handlers. Really, please, you don't have to..." Waves of embarrasment, especially at being called 'Sister' causes her to find her lap exceedingly interesting, fidgiting still more as the Judges give her little nods. She whispers an audible 'you're welcome' and 'really, you don't have to', mostly out of trained habit. The menu saves her, though she seems to be stuck on the topic for now. As she opens up the broad, fancy sheets, she glances up, over the top of it. "Really, it's not an honor. If you knew me, and my family, and that... story, it wouldn't be. There's a reason I'm at Alexander finding my own way."
Landon al Cid	"I have a food-tester because it's common sense in the Ramuhan political circle to have one," Landon replies, sounding uncomfortable, and possibly a little upset, "It's simply not wise to eat at a restauraunt and not have one. Really, if you aren't cooking your own food..." He shrugs and looks off to the city view again. It's a lovely view, but he can never appreciate it. It reminds him of what sits on his shoulders at all times. It reminds him that, as much as he'd like to be casual and joke around, as much as he'd like to be a normal teenager, he is not, in any way, a normal teenager. He is groomed to be a King. One day, he will be. He can't...really afford to be this reckless. Landon rubs his brow quietly as the conversation shifts back. "It's alright," he sighs, waving his hand dismissively, "We've made you uncomfortable. I imagine that Summoners are no different from the rest of us when it comes to burdens. That is, we all have them, we'd all like to set them aside once in a while, and we'd all like to enjoy dinner without having them brought up and tossed about for all to see." Landon shifts a bit and smiles, then looks over the menu. He orders something nice for himself, some well-cooked caramalized Kraken and some lemonade. He turns the menu over and steeples his fingers, then looks back at her. "So then, Lady Edelweiss. What would you prefer to talk about?"
Mirielle Edelweiss	Mirielle frets over the menu a few moments longer, looking sad. She didn't want to make Landon defensive. It wasn't much of a date if they just sniped at each other. "Just to check, you are the prince, right?" She asks, as she withdraws... her wicked, wavily curved black knife, slowly, point down, from under her dress. It was most likely stashed on a thigh-holster. "Sorry, I bring it with me everywhere, and I don't have my bags. Erm... Unless one of you fine gentleman has a chisel? No?" She asks, before shrugging. Then, she starts going at her salad plate carefully, etching into it a pattern. She is very precise, and in a few moments, she etches a spell into the plate. "Here." She offers, stowing her knife quickly once her task is complete. Her fingers burn for a brief second as she initializes a pattern. "I know they use them at the palace, but maybe you want your own. I, ah, took Advanced Pattern Sciences. It's all just numbers and angles when you get down to it, so I find..." She begins to explain, before realizing she hadn't ordered her food. The absolute shadiness over with, and her plate ostensibly swapped with his (or given over to the judges. Potentially with her knife), she settles in to pick her order. She orders a dry-aged Behemoth steak, medium-rare, drizzled with a reduction gravy, and a 'Malboro' Salad - essentially a mixed salad with choices made for vibrant colors with green undertones, prominently arugula for a bitter bite, and halved hard boiled eggs, to simulate, well, eyes. "No, no. Not uncomfortable. If anything, you deserve me being open as much as you have. If you really want to know, you can ask. It'll make my questions... Well, a little more fair." She offers sheepishly.
Landon al Cid	Landon's defensiveness vanishes rapidly. He's the kind of man who doesn't linger on little things unless they're legitimately dangerous. As Mirielle pulls the knife out, Landon watches, fascinated. He holds up his hand before any of the Judges do anything irresponsible or overeager; they look at each other, but nod and instead relegate to watching. As Mirielle starts carving patterns into the plate, Landon gives a low whistle. "That's...goodness, Lady Mirielle, that's very impressive." Quick-building an item wasn't exactly simple. He takes the plate and marvels at it for a moment, exploring the construction. "You are talented, aren't you?" "Thank you very much." He beams at her. Landon makes some small-talk until the food comes. It's nothing terribly interesting or important; it's just chatter, the usual back-and-forth that people do, about schoolwork and so on and so forth. He mentions things about Dungeon Run, about homework, about classes - carefully avoiding the subject of Freelancer classes - and that sort of thing. Finally, the food arrives. The caramelized Kraken smells delicious. It's set down on the plate Mirielle carved, and Landon cuts into it and digs in. "Mmm. Sweet food is the best sort of food, isn't it?" He smiles at her. "It's one of the few perks of the nobility, getting to eat delicious food like this. Do you get to eat things like this as a Summoner, Lady Mirielle?" Landon pauses. "No, that's not fair. That's not what I want to know at all. Do you enjoy anything in particular about being a Summoner? Your burdens may be heavy, but surely there are some things you find joy in?"
Mirielle Edelweiss	The real trick is that Mirielle didn't really quick-build it. The item is simply an etched plate. She's no potter, but she had something to do the etching with. "It's fairly simple, really. You just need to know precisely what pattern you wish to add to an object, and have a head for angles and numbers and... Well, I err... Etch items for a side-income. Among other things. In fact, due to this little getaway, I, ah, will have to be falling into some of my prepared reserves to make this month's quota." She explains. "I suppose I have to be talented. I do not have, err, financial support from my family for this endeavor." Mirielle admits, before being thanked waving her hands disarmingly. "No, no, really. It's just a financial hobby. Ah, erm, and I still need a salad plate." She murmurs, before reaching over the table and stealing Landon's un-etched plate. The small-talk seems to calm Mirielle down, though she does remind Landon that the plate /does/ need a little MP to function, and apologizes to the food taster, if he doesn't get to do his job. He probably does! I mean, who'd resist some delicious carmelized Kraken? Mirielle's cut of Behemoth is still gently wafting smoke, a perfectly trimmed, cut, and prepared piece of tough monster rendered into a rare, meaty delicasy. Mirielle shrugs. "I prefer savory, actually. Though sweet things are nice too. There is a craft to good food. Certain thresholds of skill and ingredients that come together to uplift both sides into a masterpiece. And I appreciate the arrangement of things." She admits, moving her knife through the tender meat before her and lifting up a piece of her steak and holding it up. "The amount of aging, the health of the animal or monster, pre-preperation time, tool quality..." She smiles wistfully, distantly, taking a bite. "No. Summoners eat good food, but it is not prepared to this level. Only when observing religous ceremones are such pains taken, and it is not the purview or privelege of summoners, but the whole tempple. There's no point in giving people like me these sorts of experiences except incidentally." She murmurs, while she takes every bite like a praciced culinarian, appreciating every aspect of the food with a critical eye and discerning taste. "It is not the taste or the experience of eating that matters, but the lasting effect. Foods that provide a healthy body, or that are filling, or that promote a positive feeling, those are the sorts of things you recieve as a Summoner. It's easy to forget a meal, but the essence of the meal, the interminable quality and effect upon you through a day is harder to quantify - or forget." She reasons, seemingly unpreturbed by the rather... Well, it's a very dark line of thought. "But you didn't want to hear about that." Mirielle thinks for a few long moments, letting silence fills the air as she arranges her thoughts, quietly eating. "Nothing as such, no, Prince Landon." She finally decides, with a nonchalant shrug. Not a thing. Not a single 'joy' came to mind.
Landon al Cid	"It's still impressive to know the translation from spell to constant magic offhand," Landon reminds her lightly. Indeed, the food taster (whose name is Davidson) also looks suitably impressed. He doesn't seem particularly put out by the idea of not having to do his job. Quite the opposite, he instead takes up a more guarded position. Presumably he's not some kind of White Mage, but rather some other Job that knows Esuna but is suited to bodyguard work. He starts watching the skyline of Ramuh, as if watching for incoming arrows. "I admit, your steak smells marvelous," Landon agrees after a moment of chewing his kraken, "Savory is an excellent taste to enjoy. It looks very juicy. Mm, goodness. Perhaps I chose hastily." He laughs. He - and several of the Judges - lapses into silence when she starts talking about being a Summoner. It sounds very hard to him - after all, commoners and nobility alike have favorite foods, good food, and experiences like this. His face takes on a look of deep sympathy. "Nothing? Nothing at all? Not one thing...? I had heard that it's a painful life fraught with forgetfulness and amnesia, but...there's not even one thing about it that you take joy in as a Summoner?" His frown deepens. "What about as a hume? Are there joys you take as a hume? As a citizen of Ramuh? As a person? Surely, there must be something."
Mirielle Edelweiss	"Well, I /am/ a calculator. Spells are quite simple, actually, compared to many things. Trust me, Prince, I'd take spell theory and matrix inference and translation over plate history any day. Names, dates, faces... Suffice to say, precise notes and careful studying were required for those classes. Then again, rote memorization was never my strong suit!" She laughs lightly. Once she finishes about half of her steak, she moves on to her salad, sliding the steak over to the food taster - and Landon. "Help yourself, both of you. Surely one of you would enjoy it." She offers, to the room. "Tomorrow it will be nearly wasted on me. Please. I find myself nearly full anyway." She admits, moving slowly through her mixed salad as if it will somehow balance out the rich meat she had eaten by being leafy and green. At the silence, and the fretting and frowning from Landon, Mirielle seems to spot a moment that she has to recover from. "Ah, erm... No. But I think you misunderstand me. I cannot truly think of myself special or terribly priveleged, and saying there is something 'enjoyable' about being a Summoner is hard not because there are not good moments, but because it is exceedingly hard to /remember/ them. It is the same with great pains or inconveniences. There is nothing that truly bothers me, either. There are problems, but all have problems. I could not rightfully compare mine with yours." Mirielle polishes off her salad and places her napkin from her lap to dab against her lips properly. "A Summoner lives in the moment, for that is what their world is circumscribed within. There is no past to regret, and no future to fear. A world of first impressions and new experiences." She gives a faint smile. "But I do enjoy it when the numbers line up properly. I enjoy seeing the colors in the sky as phoenix sets. As I said. It's hard to speak on joys. I enjoyed that steak!" She smiles. "Tell me, Prince. What in your life is a joy you can claim untainted by anything else? I'm curious, now."
Landon al Cid	Landon frowns. What in his life was a joy untainted by anything else? The problems of the Summoner were something he had only a distant understanding of - a tragedy that dogged their steps and explained why none of them had ever made real forays into politics. It also explained why the Cosman Church held so much more political power than the Divines, among a lot of other things he'd always wondered. He'd never actually really talked to one about it. In most settings, it just seemed...gauche. "I don't know," Landon decides finally, quietly, "Are there any such joys that are untainted? Would the joys be as sweet without the suffering? I'm certain we could ask a billion humes and find a different answer every time. I suppose..." Landon frowns. "I enjoy spending time with my friends. The people I care about. The people I'm close to. I enjoy protecting people and knowing that others sleep soundly in their beds because I gave what I could, even if it means risking myself. I enjoy testing and pushing myself whenever possible, though it sometimes causes me great pain. I enjoy learning new things, even though those things may not be pleasant." He shrugs again. "I don't know." "So you'll forget that this even happened, will you?" He finally asks, his voice heavy with compassion, "Everything but the fleeting impression?"
Mirielle Edelweiss	"I couldn't tell you, Prince. Much off my life is rendered into notes and numbers. Points of data distantly remembered. The... the /act/ of Summoning is what actually creates the holes in memory. It is said that one's first summon - their 'Prime' summon - is one that is life-defining. Life-changing. In fact, many people within my family that you can truly only get to know a summoner past that point. Which, I suppose, is true." Mirielle settles back on her comfortable dining chair, clasping her hands before her and crossing her legs. "The act of Summoning - of bringing forth a Divine into the world in the classic sense, is to draw that divine /inside/ of you. In part, you become a bridge, your mind - and your magic - harnessed by something larger than you. That is why Summoners are a bloodline. It is... A strenuous task. A fragment of the Divine crashes into your head, and takes up temporary residence there. Beyond the willpower required to not simply go insane or a mental invalid after summoning, there are strains on the spirit and heavy tolls on the magical reserves. Physicality is... selected against, in favor of further traits of magical aptitudes. There is a reason the Ramuhan summoners are some of the most powerful in Galianda. There are no pressures upon them to... Well. Engage in anything less than a very curious sort of arranged marriages. You may wish to escape the life of the Courts, but, ah..." Mirielle blanches slightly. "Well, I suppose being married for magical aptitude is not much better. Thankfully, considering I am no longer cloistered, I have my own time to pursue whom I wish. Which has not /precisely/ gone well." She shrugs. "In any case. The reason that first summoning is so important is because that first summon - the Prime summon, reshapes the person. Those of Phoenix become fiery and bright. Those of Ragnarok measured and even. Those of Ixion quick, and insightful. Those of Doomtrain boisterous and headstrong." She pauses. "But that's not what you asked. I shall remember, for a time. Perhaps my notes will help me remember the little moments. Upon my next summoning though, the memory will most likely burn away. Repeated occurances, habits, deeply held thoguhts... Those remain. The day to day, less so."
Landon al Cid	Landon listens with a quiet bit of horror as Mirielle describes her life being rendered into notes and numbers. As she describes the points of data that make up her existence. He's quite good at keeping it off his face, of course, but he's horrified - on her behalf, and on behalf of all the other Summoners he never knew made such sacrifices - or were forced into them. He'd never spoken to a Summoner about this sort of thing. You didn't.../do/ that in the courts. When the Summoner came 'round you gave him blessings and he gave you blessings and he blessed your house and your family and he told you some nice things, and then he left. And he was always airy and and sort of distant, and Landon had never... He'd always been curious, of course. He was a curious lad. He was a curious lad even when he was a child. It was probably what led him down the path to Freelancer in the end - asking questions, wanting to learn, wanting to learn /more/. It was socially unacceptable to be a Freelancer, of course, but he...he just wanted to know. It made her statement even more horrifying. Landon reaches out to grab her hand in a moment of deep sympathy as he tries to imagine what it would even be like. What would he lose? What would he lose if he was a summoner? What would he know? What wouldn't he know? What could he... He tightens his hand on hers, then releases her. It's a gesture meant to comfort and relax, as he sits back in his chair and looks away. "I had no idea, Lady Edelweiss," Landon murmurs. It takes him a moment, but it's a decisive moment. He grabs her hand and tugs her out of the chair. "Come on," he says, "There's something I'm going to show you upstairs." Several of the Judges move with him, but Landon waves them off as they enter the lift.
Mirielle Edelweiss	"Show me?" she asks, quietly. The looks of horror were... new, though it did mean he was actually listening to her. The idea that he was so tortured with all of this actually makes Mirielle a bit uncomfortable. She didn't want to hurt him! She just... wanted to answer his questions. And now she had caused him such pain. "It's fine, really. I mean, it's... Don't worry about it. Though, don't you want to know which Pri-..." She begins, before Landon takes her hand. Confused, she's dragged off to the elevator. "S-show me, Prince Landon??!" Mirielle is totally helpless. What brought this on... And without guards? "A-are you sure this is wise?"
Landon al Cid	"No, it's absolutely not wise," Landon agrees cheerfully as the lift doors close, "It is absolutely terribly unwise, but I would like to believe in my own competence fo five minutes today, particularly when I want to show a kind girl something interesting. I am not a Glass Egg, Lady Edelweiss, and I am not incapable, nor mentally ill, nor mentally incompetent. I am quite capable of taking care of myself." He has a broad smile on his face as he rocks back and forth on his heels, the lift shooting upwards towards the roof. It doesn't take too long. The restauraunt was already quite high up. In mere minutes, they're on the roof, under a typical Ramuhan dome. Just past the side, rain pours down like a torrent gushing downwards to the streets below. It's practically a sheet, a tiny waterfall - the building's design ensures that the roof itself, however, stays nice and dry. The dome is also made of glass. It gives a stunning view of the lightning dancing across the city. The energy cuts a jagged swath through the sky, carving through the cloud cover like great gleaming daggers. When the lightning strikes, it illuminates the vast and rising skyline; on those rare moments it's still, the landscape lays out before them. Rivers, oceans, of neon light dance along in patterns that tell more stories than anything else. The lights from street-signs. The lights from traffic. The lights from streetlamps. The lights from windows. The lights from advertisements. The lights! The lights are everywhere. Even through the blurry curtain of rain, it's a staggering thing to see. It's something most people would never get a glimpse of - or even care enough to get a look at. Most people in Ramuh don't have the time, the energy, or the interest in seeing their city like this. Landon does. The look on his face as he leans over the railway to touch the curtain of water is one of childlike joy, wonder, awe, and pride. He even holds out his hands to cup some of the water and take long sip, letting it spill down his face, delightedly. Then he leans over the railing and relaxes. "I wanted you to see this," Landon tells her after a moment. "I love this city. I love this continent. For all its faults, for all that I might complain of the nobility and my lot in life, I love this continent. Shiva's beauty may be cold and pristine, Ifrit may be filled with fiery joy, Odin may have a primal glory, Leviathan's waves may be relaxing and free, the view from Titan may be better than any other, and the flying the skies of Bahamut may be as carefree as one can get...but I love this continent. This is my home. This is my city." He looks back at her, a kind smile on his face. His eyes are a bit sad. "You're very sweet. What you have to deal with must be terrible. But I feel like, knowing that you've seen this - like if this makes an impression worth remembering on you - then it will be alright." His eyes track out towards the vast palace of the al Cid family. It's visible even from this distance - massive, staggeringly, unrealistically huge, a skyscraper among skyscrapers. He watches it for a very long moment. "I have a great deal to learn about the world," Landon says slowly, "Even my own world. I've spent too long in that tower. But..." "At least knowing that this city, that this view, is here is worth it. Even if this moment only exists as an impression for you, I won't forget it."
Mirielle Edelweiss	Landon, backed by the expanse of the thundering city below and behind, is nearly picturesque. So, really, there's only one thing to do. She draws back, standing under the dry part of the roof as he goes to get himself wet by leaning over the edge of the railing and looking out of the city. She drifts back, though it makes him harder to hear over the boom and crackle of the thunder above that is so much clearer in this rare vantage high above the clouds. The lights that flicker and shine, like a halo, around the Prince. "Prince Landon." She calls, quietly. His glances out towards the castle perhaps interrupted, he is prompted to simply look back. It is a trap. A terrible trap. As he turns, there is a flash of bright light... And a soft whirring, as Mirielle works a small portable camera. She smiles lightly. "You were very... memorable. I'm sorry I can't really fix it in my head with any sort of reliability." She offers, before raising a hand to shimmer with magic, before walking out to the rainy area, her upraised hand holding a shimmering Wall spell held aloft like a rain guard. Which... is exactly what it was. A magical umbrella. "It is a magnificent view. But it's just a view." She comments, looking out at the clouded, stormy expanse of Ramuh. "It's hard to remember something like this, as breathtaking as it is. The rise of Phoenix across the Chocobo skyline is breathtaking. A particularly vibrant and masterful painting is breathtaking. This is... This is wonderful. Please, don't take me wrongly. But it is not /all/ loss and horror. And, I suppose, I am not expected to lead a whole sphere after I am done with classes. In fact, though they were not willing to support me, my family was rather alright with me striking out on my own." She shrugs, a soft smile playing across her lips as she appreciated the skyline. She passes her camera over to Landon. "If you'd like, you can borrow it. So you don't have to travel to this place when you wish to remember it."
Landon al Cid	A terrible trap. But he laughs. She gets a picture of him with an earnest laugh on his face, its lines etched into him as he appreciates it. It's funny! He's taken pictures of the view before, of course. But that didn't mean he didn't enjoy the...the simplicity of it. His gaze sinwgs back towards Ramuh a moment later. "If I'm being honest," Landon admits, "Neither can I. The view is always changing. Even if it's just a little bit, tomorrow will never be the same as today. Maybe it's the lightning. Maybe it's the lights. Maybe a building will be expanded, or a new sign will be added. But the view is never the same twice, and it all sort of blurrs together in my mind in the end." He heaves a sigh. "But I suppose, for me, the feeling of what it represents - of what it means - is more important than the view itself. For me, it isn't breathtaking. It's a symbol." He laughs and waves his hand at her camera, flipping up his phone. He's got a whole damn /album/ of them. He flips through them, showing her...view, after view, afer view, after view. Each one is slightly different. Each little detail...just slightly off. A moment later, he holds it up and snaps another picture, then tucks it back into his coat. "This has been a lovely evening, Lady Edelweiss. I've very much enjoyed myself. I'm quite glad I offered you this apology." He smiles, wanly, and looks back at the city. "I don't really have much choice in who I'm going to marry. My father has a list of candidates all selected. But I'm glad that I got to enjoy an evening with such a kind person, Lady Edelweiss. It's been a wonderful dinner. I could not have hoped for more." "Thank you."
Mirielle Edelweiss	Mirielle, still gently holding up her hand with the tableau of rain protection over her - and Landon's - head, listens intently, as he explains himself. "I suppose it's some advantage I have over you." She offers, as the krak-thoom of thunder rolls in the distance. "I don't think I'll ever lose the magic of sights like this." She muses, as Landon flips through his phone pictures. It's amusing, to her, to see his prediliction to come to THIS spot, to take THESE pictures, to collect the shrouded skyline of Ramuh over and over and over again. Perhaps a nervous tic, but among the many people Landon would reveal this to, Mirielle wouldn't judge him for something as innocent as this. If she did, well, she'd also have to waste time analyzing herself for her own many tics. "A-are we done then? Is it over?" She asks, curiously. There is a slowness to her words, an unspoken desire to let the night lengthen itself. A dark, black desire worms its way out of her heart. An ambition that wishes itself heard, answered. And she gives in, if only slightly. "Prince, would it be alright if I asked... a favor of you?" She wonders quietly, looking into his smiling face. "I know I'm... Well, I don't have a chance with you, even with my family's standings. But maybe... If you could... Well, if I could..." She starts stammering quietly. "K-kiss you? And... have a picture taken of it. So I can remember." She breathes, a blush having lit across her cheeks. "Because you've been so wonderful, and you didn't even ask any of the 'usual' questions. It's been a really great night."
Landon al Cid	"You look on the bright side, and it warms my soul," Landon agrees cheerfully as she watches him take the picture, "There's a lesson in that. A wisdom. If more people remembered feelings instead of details, the world might be a happier place." Landon looks at her for a moment. "Please...erm, please don't take any offense at that. I don't mean it that I'm glad for your problem. Your situation is a terrible one. But if you can find some solace in it, then I think that that spirit is worth learning from, as well." He beams. Then she makes her request. Landon is quiet for a moment, leaning on the rail and looking at her carefully. His eyes are totally neutral, as is his face. For a moment, she may think he thinks she's crazy. Then he hooks one arm around her waist and dips her, long and low, under the rain. With his free hand, he takes her camera and raises it up to take a photo from the drier side of the railing. Then his arm hooks around her back, holding her there for a moment, before he lets her up and releases her. "Why, yes, Lady Edelweiss," Landon replies merrily, leaning against the railing so he might hand over her camera, "I think that that would be entirely doable." "You are a lovely girl with a good heart and a wonderful outlook on life. I imagine that you'll make your future husband quite happy." His smile widens as he leans back out to look at the city. "And, well, no, I suppose we don't /have/ to be done, if you like. We can go back down and have another course. Or we could see a movie or something. Go back to Chocobo and take in a late showing. I may have to fetch my urban disguise, but I think we can swing something, if you'd like to." "I just thought I should say thank you after I showed you this, is all."