whitehairedprettyboy | prismatica inbox

[Manuela has been preparing her new place to be suitable to her needs and that's meant picking up the essentials. Today it's groceries. Honestly she's not sure about some of the things they offer here, far more used to only the freshest of ingredients. Still, she's found plenty to work with.

However, the last thing she's expecting is to turn a corner and nearly run into someone. A gasp escapes her but she manages to not lose the things in the bag that she's carrying, adjusting them on her hip as she looks to see who it is.]

Really I...

[Has she been about to scold him? Scold herself? It's impossible to tell because once she sees a handsome man she changes her tune and blinks before offering a smile.]

Oh. You'll have to excuse me. I wasn't expecting my day to end with running into someone handsome.

[ Valmont's used to being called handsome. Or... well, he used to be used to it. Back when he had enough clout to pretend to be a legitimate businessman, charming potential sources of money was just part of the job description. Flirting came easy; insincere flirting came easier. And if someone was already interested in him, they'd be eating out of his hand within minutes.

It's been a long time since then. And particularly, it's been a long time since anyone could flirt with him without invoking the wrath of the demon sharing his body. When the guy you're hitting on hisses in your face and then suddenly begins ranting at himself, it doesn't especially encourage sticking around for a follow-up chat.

The point is, Valmont's rusty. And he doesn't have romance anywhere near his mind on the current excursion from his apartment. Mostly he's still fuming about how even in a world without actual money (and he still has trouble accepting that premise), he's expected to go out and buy his own groceries, like one of the common folk. Grumbling under his breath and not quite looking where he's going, he's absolutely at fault for the near-collision, but that doesn't stop him from opening his mouth to snap at the stranger. ]

Would you watch where you're -

[ A couple of things pull him up short at this point, though. First, the view down her dress, which ends up right in his line of vision, and which is, it must be said, quite a view. Second, the word "handsome" floating into his ears.

Okay. He's being flirted with. He remembers how this works, and certainly how to turn the situation to his advantage. You can do it, Valmont. Just look her in the eye and give her your best line. ]

- I - what?

[ Close enough. ]

[Something that almost starts off with tension quickly melts into Manuela giving him a sly little smile. Because the bristling quickly dies away when she gets that reaction out of him. Given the fact that he's possibly closer to her age, it's remarkably endearing actually. It takes her a moment to just enjoy it before she speaks again.]

Were you in a hurry? You almost seemed like you were in a rush.

[Not at all really but she does want to test the waters to see if she can get him to stick around longer. To get a feel for him.

Because she knows she'd love to have another kind of feel but that's another story entirely.]

[ All right, how to answer? He could say yes, I was, actually, ta-ta, and move on. This less-than-smooth encounter would be left in the past, and no one would ever be any the wiser. But at this point it's a matter of pride - he needs to prove to himself that he remembers at least a few of the ways of romance. Because he does, right? ]

Do you know, I think I'm in rather less of a hurry than I was a moment ago.

[ There, that's a start. Build it back up. ]

That is, assuming you wished to speak to me, Miss...?

[ He tries to put a little bit of stress on the you, just in case. ]

[Oh. Well someone can be a little charming once he recovers. Manuela blinks twice before her smile returns. She can't say she's displeased by the discovery. Far, far, far from it.]

Well, I certainly wouldn't turn down the opportunity if you are finding yourself no longer in a hurry.

[Because, um, yes. Of course she wants to talk to the handsome man before her.]

[ He notices that pause, and... maybe it's wishful thinking, but has she gone a little pinker than before? Yes - he's still got it! Inner fist-pump. Outwardly, though, he tries to remain calm. Wouldn't do to give the impression he's too easy to win over, after all. ]

I'm sure I can take a few minutes out of my schedule.

[ His extremely busy schedule. Really. ]

Shall we start with introductions? [ He extends a hand. ] Valmont. A pleasure.

[She has to adjust the bag she's carrying. It's quite filled with purchases but she manages it so she can take his hand.]

Manuela. The pleasure is mine, Valmont.

[How could it not be? He's handsome and charming when he remembers he can be.]

Where were you in such a hurry to? I must say that I'm curious.

[ lol did you expect him to give any consideration to someone else's comfort. Valmont doesn't offer to help with Manuela's groceries at all, but he does offer a practiced smile as he shakes her hand. ]

Charmed, Miss Manuela.

[ She really looks like more of a "Ms.", if he's being honest, but he's sticking with "Miss" for now. Women like to feel younger than they actually are, right? ]

Oh, merely what you yourself happen to be returning from, if I'm not mistaken - errands. It's ridiculous, isn't it, that this world has summoned us here as some sort of... I don't know, mystical beings, and we're expected to do our own shopping? Like common folk -

[ Another side effect of spending so much time not in control of his body: it's harder to stop his thoughts now before they reach his mouth. ]

[Miss? Points in his favor there. Though she did lift her brow at the part about having to do their own shopping.]

I'm afraid that you mistake me for someone of noble birth, Valmont. I was born common folk and had to fight my way to the status I have now as a celebrated former diva of the stage.

[All the flirting aside, she simply can't let that one slide.]

Is that a problem?

[ He knew it was a mistake as soon as he said it, but he hadn't realized how much of one. Clearly, she's from a world where "commoner" is an established social class and not just something you call people who have less money than you. And it's a social class she happens to be part of. Great. Good going. ]

Er - I believe we may be employing different definitions of the word. That is, I'm no member of the nobility myself.

[ Although boy, wouldn't he like to be, in a world where that mattered. ]

I simply meant that we as Moonblessed ought to be afforded special treatment, that's all. You are Moonblessed, are you not, Miss Manuela?

[ She looks a little too human to be a local, but you never know. ]

And what have we done to earn special treatment like servants to do our grocery shopping for us? Especially for people who lived here before us. We may be unique but we are still welcomed guests in their home. They don't serve us.

[Apparently that is also the wrong thing to have said to her and she is going to let him know that.]

Maybe it's time for you to learn to do these things so you can understand the hard work that they put in where you come from.

[She's being polite for now. But she does have to give that bit of sass.]

[ Sore topic, sore topic, abort abort abort! It takes some effort, but he swallows the how dare yous that suggestion inspires in his mind and comes out with: ]

You make some, ah, valid points. And I'm not averse to changing my mind, you know.

[ Yes he is, and he will absolutely continue to believe that he's the best and specialest forever, but damn it, he's not leaving this conversation without getting back in her good graces. ]

Perhaps we ought to have this discussion somewhere other than in the middle of the street, however.

An offer to carry my groceries for me? You're too kind.

[Before he can protest, she quite literally steps forward to put the groceries into his arms with a smile before stepping back.]

Now, I think there is a lovely little tea shop that I saw nearby. Why don't you buy me some tea and you can tell me all about how you would like to change your mind.

[ He bites back a growl as the bag is shoved into his arms - is this the "understanding hard work" thing she was talking about? Not a fan. But he does realize that this is probably the best he could expect, under the circumstances. She's at least willing to continue talking to him, so, fine, he'll take it.

Even if these groceries are surprisingly heavy. Oof. ]

Tea? Ah, a woman of culture, I see.

[ Surprisingly enough, he means it. If there's something he's passionate about other than money, power, and not being possessed by demons, it's good British tea. ]

Lead the way, won't you?

[He really has no idea what he's up against with this one. Manuela takes him to the tea shop where she sits herself down.]

Could you get me a ginger tea? I don't have any leaves for that at my place yet so it will be nice to have some.

[Don't worry. She'll stay here while he orders for them. His treat obviously.]

[ There's a second in which Valmont blinks at her expectantly before realizing that yes, she does intend to make him pay for everything himself. The nerve! And after he just got done complaining about - all right, deep breaths, V. Staying on her good side, remember?

He heads up to the counter, trying very hard not to grit his teeth. ]

One ginger tea for the lady, and one Earl Grey - what do you mean, you don't know what that is? Bergamot, all right, do you have anything with - thank you. Better.

[ He brings their orders back to the table a minute later, still grumbling. ]

Never heard of Earl Grey, honestly...!

[Crossing her legs, she watches him a moment before lifting a brow.]

You are in another world, Valmont dear. Why would they be familiar with everything that you know of? Even I cannot make that claim and I'm a very knowledgeable woman.

[You know. Just to point out that you're being a jerk for no reason.]

[ Valmont's being a jerk for no reason? Is the sky also blue today? ]

But... why isn't it a constant?

[ He actually sounds a little broken up at this. RIP good British tea ;_; ]

In any event, they had your tea. Drink it in good health.

[ He hands over her teacup, trying for "graciously" and pretty nearly pulling it off. ]

Perhaps because the universe wasn't created to cater to you, dear.

[She smiles and takes a careful sip of her tea.]

Delicious.

[Setting her cup down, she looks across at him. She can tell he's trying so hard to get on and stay on her good side. It's cute in its own way. Even if she's pretending like she's not noticing what he's doing.]

[ Mutter: ] More's the pity.

[ Since Manuela's started her tea, Valmont figures he might as well go ahead and try his as well. And as he puts down the teacup, a strange look spreads across his face. ]

I say. This is... it's rather good.

[ Perhaps realizing that this constitutes unusually high praise from him, he coughs and amends his statement. ]

For a knockoff, I mean.

[ That sure isn't stopping him from taking another sip, though. ]

[And she lifts a brow at him. He's really very bad at this, isn't he.]

A knockoff? In what way?

[She crosses her arms under her chest and waits for what this particular answer is going to be.

So full of himself. Honestly.]

[ Valmont wasn't expecting to actually be called out on that, and he flounders for a moment trying to justify himself. ]

I - that is - well, it can't be a true Earl Grey, can it -

[ Wait a minute, what does make something a true Earl Grey? Is it really just the bergamot? It's almost like he had nothing to complain about this whole time! ]

- oh, sod it, it's quite good, all right? Now stop looking at me like that!

Why should I? You're being unbelievably rude and with nothing to support your reasoning for it other than sheer stubbornness.

[Maneula picks up her cup to have a sip of the tea.]

You're acting like a child.

[ It's just like he's been slapped. Valmont jerks back from his own tea and gapes at Manuela, a how dare you on his tongue. With difficulty and rare presence of mind, he swallows it. This excursion was supposed to be a chance to prove that he still had the ability to romance others, wasn't it? How did he end up here, more out of his depth in this subject than he's felt... well, ever?

It's true, certainly, he has been complaining rather a lot since they've been here. But that's how it works, isn't it? The people he's used to having tea with are usually the sort who would complain right along with him, maybe lay a sympathetic hand on his arm: oh no, what kind of respectable establishment doesn't carry Earl Grey, you poor dear, how utterly dreadful, all entirely the sort of comfort his present company seems disinclined to give him.

So he's left staring at Manuela, goldfish-like, as he tries to put together some words, any words that won't launch him further into the pit of her disdain. Because for some reason, he's finding that he actually seems to care what she thinks of him, which is frightening. He's never tried to woo someone like her before. He doesn't know what to do. ]

Look - I said it was good, didn't I? I was wr- wrnngh-

[ Give him a minute, this isn't easy for him. ]

I was... wrong, all right? What do you want me to say?

[ He's trying. Very, very slowly, he's trying. ]

[A brow slowly lifts. It's actually rather impressive that she's hearing him admit to being wrong. Honestly it's the last thing she's expecting at this point. Looking over her cup, she watches him a moment before setting her tea down so she can rest her hands on the table.]

That was a good start. Do you know what would really be attractive though? What would really get a girl to like you?

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