[ Matt had the not-fully-awake look of somebody who'd rolled out of bed at 8 for a class that started at 8:15. That said, his retainer Aris was officially a miracle-worker. With only a few hours and the word "execution" (followed by "maybe??"), they'd thrown together a pretty stunning look: navy trousers and a grayish-blue shirt littered with a cosmos of smoky beading. By Matt's request, the cuffs sat higher than his usual, exposing both the stump end of his left arm and the dark band that wrapped around his right wrist. He hoped none of his fellow Aions bugged him about the band, but he was dressing for one person tonight--and he didn't want the Regent to think he was trying to distance himself from his promise.
("Is this really what you wear to an execution?" he'd asked Aris, once the whole look was assembled.
Aris had sighed and given him an undershirt.)
Interesting thing about that cigar of Silco's. It had been lit! Hopefully it wasn't in a pocket at the time, but it was definitely glowing red at the end.
Matt, meanwhile, innocently sipped at a glass of wine. ]
no subject
("Is this really what you wear to an execution?" he'd asked Aris, once the whole look was assembled.
Aris had sighed and given him an undershirt.)
Interesting thing about that cigar of Silco's. It had been lit! Hopefully it wasn't in a pocket at the time, but it was definitely glowing red at the end.
Matt, meanwhile, innocently sipped at a glass of wine. ]