It is strange, is it not, to celebrate the turning of the year so soon? The new year was not even three months ago back home. But it's good anyway. Learning the styles of other cultures is a thing that should be celebrated. ANd when it involves a party? Well, Rhy always loved a good ball. Came with being a prince.
For now though he's definitely making his way through the evening, dressed to the nines in the style of a victorian era man. Lots of brocade, lots of silk, a touch of velvet. All, including his mask, done in crimson accented with swirling goal.
And oh how he delights in the party for its own sake. Little of the dancing is what he's used to, but it doesn't stop him from enjoying things. Anyone who offers him a dance will be obliged, even if he doesn't know what he's doing. And there is no doubt that he will flirt with anyone and everyone he sees who is of sufficient age. After all, Rhy is definitely a charmer, even before he's in his cups.
A New Day
Never before has Rhy been given a chance to work with his hands, so the second people suggest that he starts planting in the garden, he smiles. The man sheds his coat and offers his hands, and find himself pleased enough with the task to dedicate to it for a while.
When he's tired and a touch more sore than he's used to he moves past the meditation and yoga, those requiring a sort of patience that magic training also did and that he'd never been any good at. Instead he relaxes in the sunshine, talking to anyone who would hear him, asking about the strangeness of the rituals here.
But what gets him the most is the end of the night. He's used to lights both otherworldly and magical. But nothing like this. The second they start Rhy is left standing there, gasping up at the lights.
Rhy Maresh | OTA
It is strange, is it not, to celebrate the turning of the year so soon? The new year was not even three months ago back home. But it's good anyway. Learning the styles of other cultures is a thing that should be celebrated. ANd when it involves a party? Well, Rhy always loved a good ball. Came with being a prince.
For now though he's definitely making his way through the evening, dressed to the nines in the style of a victorian era man. Lots of brocade, lots of silk, a touch of velvet. All, including his mask, done in crimson accented with swirling goal.
And oh how he delights in the party for its own sake. Little of the dancing is what he's used to, but it doesn't stop him from enjoying things. Anyone who offers him a dance will be obliged, even if he doesn't know what he's doing. And there is no doubt that he will flirt with anyone and everyone he sees who is of sufficient age. After all, Rhy is definitely a charmer, even before he's in his cups.
A New Day
Never before has Rhy been given a chance to work with his hands, so the second people suggest that he starts planting in the garden, he smiles. The man sheds his coat and offers his hands, and find himself pleased enough with the task to dedicate to it for a while.
When he's tired and a touch more sore than he's used to he moves past the meditation and yoga, those requiring a sort of patience that magic training also did and that he'd never been any good at. Instead he relaxes in the sunshine, talking to anyone who would hear him, asking about the strangeness of the rituals here.
But what gets him the most is the end of the night. He's used to lights both otherworldly and magical. But nothing like this. The second they start Rhy is left standing there, gasping up at the lights.
"What... what are those?"