[D1 EA] This Heart Attack

[Chantelle Rossette]

“I did,” she answered with a smile, “it migh’ no’ be an impressive pumpkin, but I like it jus’ fine. Making dings wit my ‘ands,” Chantelle spread her hands, feathers rustling, to demonstrate, “is no’ exactly my forte, dough.”

[Jack Doyle]

"What is?" he asked, studying the woman for a moment.

[Chantelle Rossette]

"I sing," Chantelle answered simply, the wooden elf would get a sample of what she meant later that evening when the freehold met for the cookout. "I wor' inna lil place call Lounge, singin'."

[Jack Doyle]

"I'd like to hear that. Maybe I'll come by." He seemed calmer now and more relaxed, sipping at his cider, absently kicking his legs. He did look around, however, continually assessing the situation in the cafe.

[Chantelle Rossette]

Amused, "you'll 'ave to give Rene de slip, you don' look ol' enough to get in clubs."

[Jack Doyle]

"We'll see." he shrugged. "Most people don't even notice me, most of the time."

[Chantelle Rossette]

“An’ you like dat jus’ fine,” Chantelle teased. A more somber expression case over her, “you got dem ol’ eyes, no’ jus’ like you see’ a lot.”

[Jack Doyle]

"I've seen a lot, but I've missed a lot, too." He glanced at the menu over the counter. "I have no idea what a frappé is."

[Chantelle Rossette]

“You ou’ de world a spell?” no mortal would find the question odd, were they to overhear it, but it meant so much more to returned. “Mais, frappes deligh’ful, T’Jack. Dey take ice an’ milk an’ jus’ ‘bout any flavour you like, an’ blen’ dem togetha. Delicious.”

[Jack Doyle]

"Ice. There are machines, now, that make ice." he shook his head, keeping his voice low. "I'm learning. But, it's a strange world."