[color=#EDE6E3][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Sds8TeY.png[/img][/center]

[color=#9D7A80]Time:[/color] Evening
[color=#9D7A80]Location:[/color] Banquet Hall
[color=#9D7A80]Interactions:[/color] [@Rodiak] Zarai, [@CitrusArms] Stratya
[color=#9D7A80]Attire:[/color] [url=https://cdn.midjourney.com/4bd335bb-f45d-4bc2-ba1b-f0a46a75bbb8/0_3.png]Look Leo! Green![/url] [url=https://cdn.midjourney.com/e8833630-3dda-488b-a6e7-aa9ad218fdbe/0_0.png]Also hair…[/url]

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Torvi let out a low, smoky chuckle. [color=#9D7A80]“Saffron, is it?”[/color] she mused, golden eyes glittering beneath the warm chandelier light. [color=#9D7A80]“Sharp, rare, expensive, and a little overwhelming in the wrong hands. I will take it.”[/color] She smirked, voice dipping in amusement. [color=#9D7A80]“But be warned, I do not come in small doses.”[/color]

Her gaze drifted across Zarai's honey-slicked fingers and the offered piece of ham. She leaned forward slightly, elbow resting on the table, chin brushing her knuckles. [color=#9D7A80]“Careful offering sweets to someone like me… I might get used to being spoiled.”[/color] And with that, she took the piece of ham and ate it, nodding in approval. [color=#9D7A80]“It is quite delicious.”[/color]

Despite her playful tone, Torvi logged every word Zarai said with silent precision. She’d learned long ago that the key to unlocking secrets often lay in the strange, offhand comments like the pinky on the glass, the way someone paused when introducing themselves, the way magic clung to the air like smoke when someone was lying.

Zarai's odd musings were filed away, quietly noted with growing curiosity.

Movement near the entrance of the banquet hall caught her attention. A man entered carrying a woman in his arms. The woman struggled, visibly unhappy, and before either of them could properly recover their balance, they tumbled down in an awkward heap. Torvi’s eyes narrowed slightly, noting the tension in the woman's body and the slight hesitation in the man’s grip. Not enough to intervene… yet. But her instincts stirred.

Her gaze shifted to the side where another, entirely separate moment of friction flared. Two men, one practically radiating the intent to strike, stood locked in a charged conversation. Torvi’s fingers twitched near the edge of her belt, instinctively calculating distance. Then, just as quickly as the tension had spiked, it dissolved. The woman who’d fallen, clearly no stranger to managing chaos, was already diffusing the situation with grace. Hm. Interesting.

Torvi returned her attention to her table just in time to witness a knight dropping into a chair down the way and launching an attack on a plate of ribs with admirable gusto. Torvi observed for a beat, amused by the woman’s single-minded determination. When Zarai whispered “She’s fighting ghosts,” Torvi huffed a soft laugh and murmured back, [color=#9D7A80]“And I cannot tell who is winning.”[/color]

She watched the woman for a moment longer before speaking up. [color=#9D7A80]“You,”[/color] she called smoothly, [color=#9D7A80]“look like you would be far more interesting company than an empty chair.”[/color]

Then came the glint in her eye. [color=#9D7A80]“And if you are worried about seating arrangements, do not be.”[/color]

Rising with a fluid grace, Torvi strolled toward the knight’s end of the table, but not before grabbing the name tag in front of the seat next to her. As she reached her, she leaned—just a little more than necessary—across the table to grab her name tag, noting the name there. The movement offered the knight a brief, unobstructed view down the subtle V of Torvi's gown, the fabric dipping low where dark green met pale skin. Her silver hair spilled forward like moonlight over her shoulder.

[color=#9D7A80]“Pardon me,”[/color] she said, her voice laced with playful amusement. [color=#9D7A80]“You’ve just been reassigned.”[/color] She plucked the knight’s name card and replaced it with Sir Matthias—quick, bold, and unapologetic. Before moving away, Torvi reached for a rib and selected one with a glossy sheen of glaze still steaming from the platter. She brought it to her lips, eyes half-lidded, and took a slow, deliberate bite. Her teeth sank into the tender meat, the juices glossing her lower lip as she hummed low in her throat, savoring it.

Her golden gaze lifted to Stratya’s, intense and unreadable as she licked a trace of honeyed glaze from the corner of her mouth with a slow, purposeful motion. [color=#9D7A80]“Mmm.”[/color] Her eyes flicked to Stratya, mischief dancing in her gaze. [color=#9D7A80]“I came for a banquet, not to be seduced by a rib.”[/color] She chuckled before turning and motioning for Stratya to follow.

She returned to her seat, setting the newly reassigned tag beside her and gesturing with a flick of her fingers. [color=#9D7A80]“There. Now you have no excuse.”[/color]

Glancing back to Zarai, her lips curled again. [color=#9D7A80]“Let’s see if our rib-conquering friend has a tale as bold as her appetite.”[/color][/color]