[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/231109/0ba929c62ce0023295985d603785fcba.png[/img][/center][hr]Ionna beamed, bouncing excitedly on her feet when Dominika appeared to finally join them. She had felt so awkward standing apart from her Scion during the ceremony—a failing of formality she was sure Dame Irina had noticed, but, at this point it was only one of many, and not even the most grievous. Between that, and her own lateness, she had worried Dominika would be cross with her, but by her smiles and how freely she shared her own secret, that seemed blessedly untrue. 

They hadn’t known each other long, but Ionna could already tell Dominika was a sweetheart. Some Scions were very…into themselves; not to say there was anything wrong with confidence, but she could hear uncle Dragomir in the back of her mind, reminding her that loud opponents were always covering up some weakness they didn’t want exploited. Dominika was very reserved in contrast, but in some ways, she was also very open. Ionna could see it in the way she talked to people, and how she carried herself, almost like she thought she was a burden rather than a figure of divine power. There was something so refreshingly [i]honest[/i] about her. 

She’d told her dad as much, and he seemed pleased. That was all the approval she needed. Besides, they shared the same inquisitive nature, and Dominika wasted no time in joining her fascination with Sir Chaudoir’s visor. 

Despite that it seemed none of her guesses were true, Ionna still listened carefully to his explanation, nudging Dominika with her elbow. “[color=E40040]He’s got [i]heat vision![/i][/color]” she said excitedly. 

When the Templar gave his full attention to her Scion, she stood back, eager to give Dominika the chance to strut her stuff. Whether or not something like this actually [i]was[/i] in her wheelhouse, Ionna didn’t know, but either way, it was still good to get her talking with the rest of their fun little club. Hopefully the attention didn’t overwhelm her.

She thought, moments before being overwhelmed herself.

The princess’s rather adorable departure heralded the arrival of someone else. Dame Gusev approached and Ionna was not prepared. It took every ounce of self-control she had not to [i]gasp[/i], and then she had to dip into reserves to keep from frantically elbowing Dominika. Instead she stood still, clutching the box like it cradled a glass baby and not a dwindling supply of cookies, and stared up wide-eyed at the woman. She didn’t even hear what Sonia said, she had to catch the mental rerun a few moments after, when she came back to reality. 

“[color=E40040]Hah![/color]” she barked, sharp and a bit too loud. “[color=E40040]Alligators. That’s—wow—that’s cool. You’re cool. Your eyepatch is cool.[/color]”

For the nth time that morning, the alarm inside her designed to detect unprofessionalism blared itself ragged. She bit down on her tongue in an attempt to jam the unfettered pipeline between her brain and her mouth, and opted instead to stand quietly back while Dame Gusev addressed Sir Chaudoir, praying that Incepta might mercifully smite her into the ground, or manifest as a being of holy light and throw her through a window.[hr][@Hero][@Scribe of Thoth][@Abstract Proxy]