Date with the Archmage?

[ParadiseStromgard]

Paradise slipped back into the Fur’za, a small smile on her lips. Tonight’s foray had definitely had interesting results. Misty was always up to something, and she really shouldn’t have been surprised when the device Misty had given her to communicate began to beep, and glow, and displaying the message:

“Come to Annex. Dress nice.”

She really hadn’t been out of the ship in a while, too caught up in experiments and tinkering. It wasn’t an easy walk in high heels from the ship to the Annex, but she made her way there as fast as she could. It seemed to be the normal crowd, and she hurried in with waves all around. She spotted Misty, sitting next to another woman. Finding herself a seat at the bar, next to the captain, she was promptly introduced to the caller, Jaycy.

Before she really had time to think (let alone finish her coffee), she found herself set up on a blind date – with the Archmage.

She was in her bunk, now, carefully removing the dress she had worn. Slipping back into her comfortable jeans and t-shirt, she sat down on her bed, and began to brush out her long red hair so she could braid it. Her thoughts wondered again.

The Archmage? His name was Vincent Smith. Paradise didn’t know much more about him than that. She had heard something about him owning a hotel. She put her brush away, searching her memory for anything she might remember. At one point, she was sure, she had dueled him in magic.

She sighed, hand touching the cheek where he had kissed her. Vincent seemed nice, polished around the edges. Definitely not the type of guy she was used to being around.

Take, for example, her first attempt at a "relationship" - a fellow fighter in the Travelling Coliseum. He was a rather large, strong man, who didn't talk much. Except, as she found out later, with his fists.

She had challenged him to a grudge match during the Coliseum, and won. She left him only a little crispy.

Paradise shook her head, clearing the bad memories.

Vincent. Right.

He seemed to understand her when she started talking tech. He didn't acquire that glazed, bored look she had seen so often. His answers were thoughtful. At least they would have something to talk about.

She glanced over at the new gadget she had been working on before her trip out. A couple contact plates, wired into a conduit, hooked to a battery. Simplicity itself. She picked up her soldering iron, set it down again.

Now she just had to figure out what to wear.