[ The smile on his face absolutely grows a little wider at that as they walk towards the tavern. Mostly as a way to tease her as Ingrid's already noted, but also because - if he's being honest with himself - Claude doesn't totally know what his intentions are. It'd seemed simple enough when he thought of it earlier, when it'd only taken a second for Ingrid to come to mind next, and despite his mildly obsessive desire to know the ins and outs of everything not immediately knowing what this is doesn't bother him. For now. ]
I suppose you have a point about taking you to dinner being most of the plan, though.
[ Would it kill him to admit this was, in fact, a hastily thrown together idea all because he wanted to spend some time with her? Probably not, but it feels like it might. Agreeing with her will have to do. As they reach the door to the tavern Claude reaches out first to hold it open for her, glancing inside briefly when the dull roar of activity from inside filters out to them before he looks back to her. ]
After you, of course. And you pick which table we're going to sit at - I don't think anyone will mind where we go or if we sit with whoever's already at any of them.
[ She doesn't know what to say. Or, well, she does, but she's not sure if vocalizing her thoughts will absolutely torpedo the rest of the night and she's not sure she wants to do that when Claude seems to actually be pleasant for once. Or at least less frustrating. She sighs and shakes her head at him as she follows to the door. ]
I'll tell you my thoughts on your intentions later.
[ She'll just put that off and step inside instead. The dull roar of the people inside is pleasant, honestly - and so are the smells of the food! Her eyes widen a little and then she glances back at Claude. ]
I'll be waiting for your thoughts then. Don't forget you still have the chance to increase your demands based off of them, too.
[ The last part is added cheerfully - because he has the feeling there might be something else added on here for giving Ingrid just a little bit of a run-around in getting here. But now here they are, and he watches her take in the sights with a smile that he doesn't bother to hide (and same for that he was looking in the first place) when she looks back to him. Before he has a chance to say anything, Ingrid's put her hand out and now it's Claude's turn to be caught off guard. Not that he shows it; his only response is to take her hand in his with an even wider smile that's infinitely less plastered on and something a little closer to genuine. ]
Probably not a bad idea, because I'd hate to come all this way and then have to end up hanging out by myself.
[ That's as close as he's willing to get to admitting anything about his 'plan' for the night. Claude follows along behind Ingrid to wherever she chooses as their table, then (reluctantly) lets go of her hand in order to pull out a chair for her to sit before dropping into the one next to her himself. With a nod in greeting to what looks to be a grizzled mercenary sitting on the other side of him, Claude then reaches for the water pitcher to fill glasses for both of them. Of course, as he hands one to Ingrid he also can't resist leaning into her space slightly, voice lowered conspiratorially. ]
One of the other best parts of being here is all the people watching you can do while guessing where everyone's from. Like, look over there - [ said with a subtle nod of his chin in the direction of a couple halfway down their table dressing matching outfits and eating in total silence without looking at each other, ] - maybe they work at a nearby church and took a vow of silence.
[ But she's still here with him all the same. As they settle down at their table, she takes another look around. There's so many people here and a lot of them seem different from what she's used to. It's kind of impressive, honestly. She follows Claude's little gesture and arches a brow. Matching outfits? That's... different. ]
...maybe they're just not that talkative. They certainly don't look like any Church members I've ever seen, though.
[ She furrows her brow. ]
Maybe they just like to match? Or it's some other kind of organization.
True, they could just really enjoy... the same shirts... and pants... maybe same everything? Though I guess if we'd showed up tonight wearing our academy outfits like from back in the day, anyone who noticed would be saying the same about us. And we'd probably stand out for it.
[ Not that they won't anyway - there's a good chance someone local to the territory is quietly cataloguing who's not from the village, which seems like it'll be a long list as the front door swings open again both as some diners exit and more sweep in to be seated. Claude's attention is pulled back to the table when a server drops a bread basket in front of them and he perks up, reaching out to pull it closer so they can browse its contents and especially when the rest of their table's diners don't seem as interested in its appearance. ]
You can't go wrong with anything in here but if you're looking for a recommendation, I'd go for that one covered in seeds and looks kinda like a knot. Everything in the basket is from all over the Alliance, and that bread is from Gloucester. You'll never hear me admit this around Lorenz, but, [ just for theatrics' sake and in hopes of making Ingrid smile, he makes a show of looking over his shoulder as if half-expecting the man in question to leap out from somewhere, ] it's definitely the best one.
[ For himself, Claude picks up a slice of Edmund rye bread for himself then pauses when he remembers something else important. ]
Oh, and there's usually a fruit basket or too around here so we can grab a couple apples for your pegasus on the way out. How's he doing, by the way?
[ The bread grabs her attention and she seems intensely interested in it - or trying it out anyway. She sorts through the various rolls and breads as she listens to him, nodding, and then finally does pull out that one he recommended with a little laugh. ]
I'll make sure not to tell him. Even you don't deserve to have to listen to him gloating.
[ She offers him a little smile and then takes a bite of the roll, chewing thoughtfully. ]
...oh, my pegasus?
[ She comments after she finishes chewing. ]
He's doing great! I think he would like a little more free time to just fly around, but don't they all? I'm sure your wyvern wishes she had more space some times.
You're definitely right about that. She's been known to terrorize the stablehands just a bit if I don't get her out regularly. Which, really, is all the more reason to take a break now and then and get away for a bit since it helps clear my mind at the same time. At least she'll enjoy hanging out with the other wyverns while we're here for a change of pace.
[ Claude taking a bite of his own bread is timed with the first of many courses (or the option for them) being dropped off. This time it's a tray with several covered small, personal serving size soup crocks and after promptly singeing a fingertip on the lid of the nearest one, he manages to open it to reveal the steaming hot Daphnel stew inside. ]
Here, do you want one of these?
[ If she accepts Claude places one before her before picking up one for himself - moving faster this time to avoid burning himself yet again - before sliding it down the table to the next group of diners. As he unwraps his napkin to place it in his lap before retrieving his spoon, he also takes that chance to shoot another mischievous look Ingrid's direction. ]
Alright, Ingrid. You're not escaping my million questions over the course of tonight, but here's an easy one to start off with. If you had to eat only one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?
[ He's not storing this information for use later. Definitely not. ]
[ Ingrid is apparently very happy to dig into the stew as it arrives. She helps him get both platters onto their table and a few moments later, she's eagerly digging in. She really does appreciate a good meal, apparently - having some bread to go with the stew certainly helps as well. She pauses, spoon partway to her lips when he speaks up and she furrows her brow.]
If I had to eat one thing for the rest of my life? Well...
[ She actually has to think about this. She could name her favorite dish, but would that be healthy? Hmm. Her brow furrows. ]
...there's this delicious spicy fish and turnip stew that I really like. I think I could put up with that for the rest of my life. [ Her eyes glint. ]
That's a good answer. Especially because if you ever got bored of one fish or spices then you could easily swap those out. Loopholes are important for this kind of thing, you know.
[ Claude sends a shameless grin Ingrid's way, like she hasn't already noticed his penchant for finding any technicality he can in just about any situation. Including hypothetical ones like picking one meal for the rest of one's life, but still. He's in the middle of taking his own bite when his question is turned back on him - something he should've figured would happen, but Claude pauses for a second and takes a large bite of bread to (semi-metaphorically) chew that over. ]
If I'm going with my own loophole here, and you know I'm gonna, then I'm picking a good old meat pie to go with. Same reasoning as the stew where you can swap most things out to make it basically endless, but I won't deny I'm pretty fond of Garreg Mach's version. I wouldn't say no to this though either, as long as it also comes with basically unlimited bread.
[ A point of his spoon at his bowl to clarify this stew in particular. He figures it's best to give them both a chance to eat for a bit, given that he has plenty of time to continue pestering Ingrid up close and personal, so Claude watches as a new trio of musicians with varying instruments sets up by the fireplace near where they're sitting to play what'll undoubtedly some classic drinking songs beloved in the Alliance. With that he lightly nudges Ingrid's arm with one elbow to get her attention - after checking he's not going to make her spill anything. ]
I should've mentioned, once dinner wraps up a bit they'll start moving tables around for more room to dance. Nothing too rowdy and just for fun. Any chance you have a demand already in mind for letting me drag you into that later too?
[ Ingrid sighs, but there's no real venom in it or any real sense of reprimand. It's more... well, it's Claude. What else does she expect from him? She listens to his response. It makes sense! Although she's not sure she could stand living on pie her whole life. Still, she's happy to focus on eating for a bit. She really does enjoy a good meal, after all.
Then he springs something else on her. Of course. ]
Wait, dancing...? [ She blinks at him. She doesn't mind dancing, but it's not something she puts a lot of thought into, either. ]
...I guess I'm already here, so there's not really a point in trying to extort something out of you, is there? [ SIGH. ]
[ He watches as Ingrid processes his not-really-a-question when it comes to dancing, that ever controlled smile of his growing a little wider when he can hear the sigh in her words, seemingly resigned to her fate. ]
C'mon, Galatea. You've gotta think a little bigger when it comes to getting someone to do what you want. Like outside of right now to add it to a list of future demands. You might find I'm a willing victim to extortion at the right hands.
[ Is he insinuating there could be some part two to this where she wills him into doing whatever it is she's asking? Yes, but it'll stay an implication and nothing more if there really isn't something she has to ask in return. When the man next to him nudges him to pass over the bread basket, Claude does, but he also retrieves the lone Gloucester roll left to plunk it onto Ingrid's plate first. ]
You don't have to answer now if you'd rather think about it. Instead you can tell me about what celebrations in Faerghus are like, because I'm guessing they're- [ a pause when an uproarious cheer from a different table happens, and he glances over to see glasses raised before looking back to Ingrid with an eyebrow raised, ] maybe a bit more restrained than how we do things in the Alliance.
Claude, you're a lot of things, but I don't think you'd ever want to be or let yourself be a victim. I can tell that much.
[ The roll is... well, it's a nice little peace offering. She tears off a chunk and eats it as she considers him and lets the sound of the celebration wash over her. ]
...a little bit, yeah. We have music, you know - it's not like we sit around staring at one another - but I think it feels more structured, at least at the beginning. Once things get going we can loosen up a little, I guess.
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no subject
[ The smile on his face absolutely grows a little wider at that as they walk towards the tavern. Mostly as a way to tease her as Ingrid's already noted, but also because - if he's being honest with himself - Claude doesn't totally know what his intentions are. It'd seemed simple enough when he thought of it earlier, when it'd only taken a second for Ingrid to come to mind next, and despite his mildly obsessive desire to know the ins and outs of everything not immediately knowing what this is doesn't bother him. For now. ]
I suppose you have a point about taking you to dinner being most of the plan, though.
[ Would it kill him to admit this was, in fact, a hastily thrown together idea all because he wanted to spend some time with her? Probably not, but it feels like it might. Agreeing with her will have to do. As they reach the door to the tavern Claude reaches out first to hold it open for her, glancing inside briefly when the dull roar of activity from inside filters out to them before he looks back to her. ]
After you, of course. And you pick which table we're going to sit at - I don't think anyone will mind where we go or if we sit with whoever's already at any of them.
no subject
I'll tell you my thoughts on your intentions later.
[ She'll just put that off and step inside instead. The dull roar of the people inside is pleasant, honestly - and so are the smells of the food! Her eyes widen a little and then she glances back at Claude. ]
Well - here -
[ She holds her hand out for him. ]
So we don't separated in the crowd.
no subject
[ The last part is added cheerfully - because he has the feeling there might be something else added on here for giving Ingrid just a little bit of a run-around in getting here. But now here they are, and he watches her take in the sights with a smile that he doesn't bother to hide (and same for that he was looking in the first place) when she looks back to him. Before he has a chance to say anything, Ingrid's put her hand out and now it's Claude's turn to be caught off guard. Not that he shows it; his only response is to take her hand in his with an even wider smile that's infinitely less plastered on and something a little closer to genuine. ]
Probably not a bad idea, because I'd hate to come all this way and then have to end up hanging out by myself.
[ That's as close as he's willing to get to admitting anything about his 'plan' for the night. Claude follows along behind Ingrid to wherever she chooses as their table, then (reluctantly) lets go of her hand in order to pull out a chair for her to sit before dropping into the one next to her himself. With a nod in greeting to what looks to be a grizzled mercenary sitting on the other side of him, Claude then reaches for the water pitcher to fill glasses for both of them. Of course, as he hands one to Ingrid he also can't resist leaning into her space slightly, voice lowered conspiratorially. ]
One of the other best parts of being here is all the people watching you can do while guessing where everyone's from. Like, look over there - [ said with a subtle nod of his chin in the direction of a couple halfway down their table dressing matching outfits and eating in total silence without looking at each other, ] - maybe they work at a nearby church and took a vow of silence.
no subject
[ But she's still here with him all the same. As they settle down at their table, she takes another look around. There's so many people here and a lot of them seem different from what she's used to. It's kind of impressive, honestly. She follows Claude's little gesture and arches a brow. Matching outfits? That's... different. ]
...maybe they're just not that talkative. They certainly don't look like any Church members I've ever seen, though.
[ She furrows her brow. ]
Maybe they just like to match? Or it's some other kind of organization.
no subject
[ Not that they won't anyway - there's a good chance someone local to the territory is quietly cataloguing who's not from the village, which seems like it'll be a long list as the front door swings open again both as some diners exit and more sweep in to be seated. Claude's attention is pulled back to the table when a server drops a bread basket in front of them and he perks up, reaching out to pull it closer so they can browse its contents and especially when the rest of their table's diners don't seem as interested in its appearance. ]
You can't go wrong with anything in here but if you're looking for a recommendation, I'd go for that one covered in seeds and looks kinda like a knot. Everything in the basket is from all over the Alliance, and that bread is from Gloucester. You'll never hear me admit this around Lorenz, but, [ just for theatrics' sake and in hopes of making Ingrid smile, he makes a show of looking over his shoulder as if half-expecting the man in question to leap out from somewhere, ] it's definitely the best one.
[ For himself, Claude picks up a slice of Edmund rye bread for himself then pauses when he remembers something else important. ]
Oh, and there's usually a fruit basket or too around here so we can grab a couple apples for your pegasus on the way out. How's he doing, by the way?
no subject
I'll make sure not to tell him. Even you don't deserve to have to listen to him gloating.
[ She offers him a little smile and then takes a bite of the roll, chewing thoughtfully. ]
...oh, my pegasus?
[ She comments after she finishes chewing. ]
He's doing great! I think he would like a little more free time to just fly around, but don't they all? I'm sure your wyvern wishes she had more space some times.
no subject
[ Claude taking a bite of his own bread is timed with the first of many courses (or the option for them) being dropped off. This time it's a tray with several covered small, personal serving size soup crocks and after promptly singeing a fingertip on the lid of the nearest one, he manages to open it to reveal the steaming hot Daphnel stew inside. ]
Here, do you want one of these?
[ If she accepts Claude places one before her before picking up one for himself - moving faster this time to avoid burning himself yet again - before sliding it down the table to the next group of diners. As he unwraps his napkin to place it in his lap before retrieving his spoon, he also takes that chance to shoot another mischievous look Ingrid's direction. ]
Alright, Ingrid. You're not escaping my million questions over the course of tonight, but here's an easy one to start off with. If you had to eat only one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?
[ He's not storing this information for use later. Definitely not. ]
no subject
[ Ingrid is apparently very happy to dig into the stew as it arrives. She helps him get both platters onto their table and a few moments later, she's eagerly digging in. She really does appreciate a good meal, apparently - having some bread to go with the stew certainly helps as well. She pauses, spoon partway to her lips when he speaks up and she furrows her brow.]
If I had to eat one thing for the rest of my life? Well...
[ She actually has to think about this. She could name her favorite dish, but would that be healthy? Hmm. Her brow furrows. ]
...there's this delicious spicy fish and turnip stew that I really like. I think I could put up with that for the rest of my life. [ Her eyes glint. ]
And what about you?
no subject
[ Claude sends a shameless grin Ingrid's way, like she hasn't already noticed his penchant for finding any technicality he can in just about any situation. Including hypothetical ones like picking one meal for the rest of one's life, but still. He's in the middle of taking his own bite when his question is turned back on him - something he should've figured would happen, but Claude pauses for a second and takes a large bite of bread to (semi-metaphorically) chew that over. ]
If I'm going with my own loophole here, and you know I'm gonna, then I'm picking a good old meat pie to go with. Same reasoning as the stew where you can swap most things out to make it basically endless, but I won't deny I'm pretty fond of Garreg Mach's version. I wouldn't say no to this though either, as long as it also comes with basically unlimited bread.
[ A point of his spoon at his bowl to clarify this stew in particular. He figures it's best to give them both a chance to eat for a bit, given that he has plenty of time to continue pestering Ingrid up close and personal, so Claude watches as a new trio of musicians with varying instruments sets up by the fireplace near where they're sitting to play what'll undoubtedly some classic drinking songs beloved in the Alliance. With that he lightly nudges Ingrid's arm with one elbow to get her attention - after checking he's not going to make her spill anything. ]
I should've mentioned, once dinner wraps up a bit they'll start moving tables around for more room to dance. Nothing too rowdy and just for fun. Any chance you have a demand already in mind for letting me drag you into that later too?
no subject
[ Ingrid sighs, but there's no real venom in it or any real sense of reprimand. It's more... well, it's Claude. What else does she expect from him? She listens to his response. It makes sense! Although she's not sure she could stand living on pie her whole life. Still, she's happy to focus on eating for a bit. She really does enjoy a good meal, after all.
Then he springs something else on her. Of course. ]
Wait, dancing...? [ She blinks at him. She doesn't mind dancing, but it's not something she puts a lot of thought into, either. ]
...I guess I'm already here, so there's not really a point in trying to extort something out of you, is there? [ SIGH. ]
no subject
C'mon, Galatea. You've gotta think a little bigger when it comes to getting someone to do what you want. Like outside of right now to add it to a list of future demands. You might find I'm a willing victim to extortion at the right hands.
[ Is he insinuating there could be some part two to this where she wills him into doing whatever it is she's asking? Yes, but it'll stay an implication and nothing more if there really isn't something she has to ask in return. When the man next to him nudges him to pass over the bread basket, Claude does, but he also retrieves the lone Gloucester roll left to plunk it onto Ingrid's plate first. ]
You don't have to answer now if you'd rather think about it. Instead you can tell me about what celebrations in Faerghus are like, because I'm guessing they're- [ a pause when an uproarious cheer from a different table happens, and he glances over to see glasses raised before looking back to Ingrid with an eyebrow raised, ] maybe a bit more restrained than how we do things in the Alliance.
no subject
[ The roll is... well, it's a nice little peace offering. She tears off a chunk and eats it as she considers him and lets the sound of the celebration wash over her. ]
...a little bit, yeah. We have music, you know - it's not like we sit around staring at one another - but I think it feels more structured, at least at the beginning. Once things get going we can loosen up a little, I guess.