“ Would I have the honor to invite you for dinner? There's a banquet held by someone I don't know. I'd say it would be lavish of us if we don't enjoy it. ” — tennant / gn reader
“A rose for you,” she presents. And that slow, deep rumble of her voice sends a shiver that stirs your attention.
There is a tremor in such a thing, one that overshadows your body when she leans standing over your chair. Perhaps it was her hat, and the way it hovered over your heads; Or perhaps it was the large coat hanging off her shoulders, and how it created this air of mystery around her figure. But even a tremor so lightweight caused you to nearly choke on your drink when she presents you such a fresh rose out of nowhere.
“Tennant,” you name, though it was not your intent to carry slight distaste in your voice. Similarly, you couldn’t help but lean back against your chair to avoid her close proximity. “I don’t believe you were invited here at tonight’s banquet.”
She hums. “I see you aren’t one to fall for lowly, cheap tactics, my lord,” she says disappointedly, yet there is an baritone of amusement that flows through the air of her lips. “I thought that surely, you’d be flattered enough to allow me as your plus-one. What can I do to please you, should roses not suffice? Another drink? Perhaps a diamond?”
Along her string of words, she finds her place on the seat next to yours at the banquet table. Ah, that cannot do. These seats were already reserved before the event, and it was only a matter of time until the rest of your table attendees arrived as well.
“The people here,” you sighed, “They’ll no longer fall for your trickery, I fear.”
A refusal enough on your part—you could only hope she got the message. Her offers of wealth and of diamonds were only scams, and you came to know that very well. But when she merely scoffed, you only groaned to remind yourself just how persistent this mad woman can be.
( Especially, with you. )
“I’m shocked!” she expresses with a dramatic hand over her heart. There is a feigned hurt in her voice, but the way she holds back a smirk is very apparent. “Would you really think so lowly of me?” And at this, she leans closer to you by the dimly lit table side, feeling all-the-more suffocated at her nearing proximity. Damn this woman. “A kind gentleman would not bestow any trickery,” she says, as if you’ve spoken the most absurd words in the world. “And I believe that I am above a gentleman who would offer fake diamonds, wouldn’t you agree?”
You roll your eyes. “Asking me to agree with you is like asking me to marry a corrupted congressman.”
She smiles, attractively so. “This is why I like you…” her voice trails. She tilts her head, leaning it downwards to the side and then looks up at you. “You’re a glowing luxury”—her words are muttered with barley contained excitement, practically breathless—“perfect for deceiving the likes of this greedy, greedy nobles around us.”
There is a question left unspoken in the way she gazes so enticingly at you; half lidded eyes glowing red under the expensive lighting of this banquet. She was a feat of her own, already breaking into here in the first place. And now, she just needed you to officially invite her as your plus-one invitation. The best thing you could do was refuse her. But unfortunately, she has seemed to figure out your weakness by now.
“Stand up,” you sighed. “Let’s go get your ticket.”
There is a winning smile on her face.
When she stands, she moves forth to offer her arm to you. With the way you so naturally hold onto her, she feels a confidence at her confirmed guess: It was not a desire for roses, or diamonds, or any material thing that would win over your favor.
Rather, it was Tennant herself.
She grins to herself. Oh, she hopes she doesn’t break your poor heart.
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"My work, is a piece of art, an art that you're lucky enough to experience, my lady. You may be a human led by the other humans, but...have you considered I, an arcanist, to take the reins?"
..guess who started...playing....((its been a lovely month))
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