[ Not in Davenshire, no. So he's in a cell, in odd pajamas, with a billion-something bill on his head, in the middle of... Maker only knows where. His emotional mind makes a sudden lunge towards to panic, but his rational side keeps everything on the exterior calm. Straight shouldered, straight lipped. More information is needed, more than he believes the woman in this shared predicament can give, and for that he needs to keep his wits up.
But for right now, to keep the beating in his chest from rising any higher, he slowly... sits down. The smallish countertop he chooses probably isn't meant to be a seat, but it is now. Besides, it's right within reach of his violin case, and after a moment of quiet he's reaching to bust it out. Needs something to keep his hands from twitching. ]
Where're you from then?
[ Idle chatter, another distraction to latch onto. His voice is calm, casual, but perhaps flatter than before. ]
If it turns out we're stuck here, better get to know each other. I'm Gildor.
no subject
But for right now, to keep the beating in his chest from rising any higher, he slowly... sits down. The smallish countertop he chooses probably isn't meant to be a seat, but it is now. Besides, it's right within reach of his violin case, and after a moment of quiet he's reaching to bust it out. Needs something to keep his hands from twitching. ]
Where're you from then?
[ Idle chatter, another distraction to latch onto. His voice is calm, casual, but perhaps flatter than before. ]
If it turns out we're stuck here, better get to know each other. I'm Gildor.