CIAN
the eye
He chuckles, slipping his hands into the pocket of his waistcoat as she calls him The Eye. "A rather archaic system, if you ask me. These titles and such. And while openly I think everyone would agree, secretly I think they all rather like the names. Fixer, Spyglass, Artificer, Hammer..." He shrugs, not necessarily bothering to list more.
As she moves this pawn of knowledge across the board, Cian takes a long moment to study her. The flush in her cheeks, the rigidness of her posture, the righteousness that glistens off of her like dew. "Please, sit." He instructs, removing a hand from his pocket to gesture at the chairs behind her, and taking a seat himself. All of the Eye's movements are graceful and unhurried.
"You should never assume." The Eye notes casually, reaching into a desk drawer and pulling out a cigarette. He offers one to Amalia despite knowing she doesn't smoke, before lighting it and taking a long drag. Exhaling the smoke in a whirl that distorts his blue eyes, Cian leans back in his chair, carefully thinking. 'I don't plan to do anything about it." He replies at last.
As she moves this pawn of knowledge across the board, Cian takes a long moment to study her. The flush in her cheeks, the rigidness of her posture, the righteousness that glistens off of her like dew. "Please, sit." He instructs, removing a hand from his pocket to gesture at the chairs behind her, and taking a seat himself. All of the Eye's movements are graceful and unhurried.
"You should never assume." The Eye notes casually, reaching into a desk drawer and pulling out a cigarette. He offers one to Amalia despite knowing she doesn't smoke, before lighting it and taking a long drag. Exhaling the smoke in a whirl that distorts his blue eyes, Cian leans back in his chair, carefully thinking. 'I don't plan to do anything about it." He replies at last.
