::Having been shown how to use the computer -- just talking to it and
telling it what he wanted, which seemed stupidly easy once he knew how it
worked -- Kyros found himself a little better at navigating the halls.
They'd worked out where his quarters were, and it was to them that he went,
to get out of his traveling clothes and into something more formal for the
occasion. He decided to stick with chain mail rather than plate, but took
his dress suit of it; polished, bright, and relatively silent while he
moved; his traveling chain had a tendency to jingle that wasn't optimal for
ceremonies. Opera probably counted.::
::He added a surcoat with the emblem of his order on it -- this time in
black, set upon a dark blue background which suited him well, his own coat
of arms at each shoulder. No helm; no sword, although he wore the twin
jeweled daggers gifted him on his fifteenth birthday, polished to a proper
shine. Not that they were likely to be drawn, but an unarmed knight was
improper. He had a carrying permit for his weapons -- somehow the King had
procured that for him, and he carried it in his wallet, strapped to his
::Some time remained; he used it to make a pass at organizing his quarters.
The room was bigger than he knew what to do with; he had never had so much
space. The dummies with his armor on them, he set in one room; there was a
wall there that seemed perfect for his weapons, but he had nothing to mount
them with. His clothes went in his bedroom; there was the main area for
eating and cooking, and that left him with two rooms and absolutely nothing
to do with them. He could work that out later; it was time for the opera.::
((Opera hall (?)))
::His ticket got him in, and his costume earned him strange looks wherever
he went. By the third time he was asked if he was part of the opera, he was
already wishing he hadn't come. He was by no means unaccustomed to large
crowds, but he was unused to having no part in the proceedings. There, he
was a symbol, a respected icon of nobility; here, he was merely an oddity...
lost and alone, and with no task to hide behind... perhaps that was why he
had obsessed so earlier? A grasping for something to do, someone to be, some
role to fall into -- it would make sense, but he hoped not as he had no
desire to repeat that particular performance.::
::An expectant voice with just a touch of worry in it interrupted his
::He turned, and gaped.::
::She laughed and twirled. She was wearing a forest green dress with wide
black trim, the dress reaching fully to her feet. It was bound at the waist
lightly with a sash, with a neckline that revealed nothing but hinted at
much. Her eyes sparkled mischievously::
Girl: The latest in Mydjyan fashion -- you're Mydjyan, yes?
Gideon: Aye, I... ::He paused.:: How didst thou know that?
::She had a satisfied smirk.:: You made the news, Mister Knight. Sir Kyros
Gideon, newly arrived on the station from Mydjya, of the Order of the Rose
and Thorn. ::She touched the emblem on his chest::
Gideon: Then thou dost have the advantage of me.
Girl: Erin. ::She curtseyed, roughly; Kyros bowed back in return.::
Gideon: Well met, then, m'lady Erin. ::He offered his arm:: Shall we?
Erin: Let's shall. ::She took his arm, and they went to find their seats::
Sir Kyros Gideon
[Last Round 2008] A Knight At The Opera
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