Blood and Ink

[Thalia]

Thalia watched, amused, as the man chose now to retreat behind formality, even pretty much doffing his hat. She wrinkled her nose at the ma’am – ma’am, really? – and did note that his introduction nonetheless came with no apology, but made no comment. The disruption, sudden as it had been, made no lasting impression on her affability. Now that it had turned out to be a benign disturbance anyway. Thal adapted seamlessly.

Rune’s hurried explanation had an air of excuse, and her gaze titled in the other woman’s direction for a moment of consideration, but she was indifferent to whatever hid beneath the words - if anything even did. She stood from the arm of the couch, to make room in the small space for the two to converge over the designs, and paced a little way out into the studio. The acoustics made an echo her voice. “Sure, well, make yourself at home, Seth. I’d offer a drink but I have no more cups.” Her grin had an air of tease, because the polite thing to do would be to empty and offer her own. Just like the polite thing was to knock before entering another’s door. Mirth glittered the grey of her eyes. “First tattoo, you said? So it’s like a family tradition?”