[member="Aldiel D'Lessio"]
For Danger, hearing that well... it brought a knot to her throat. Honestly, she wasn't sure how to take it. Was she getting more emotional as she added on the years? Did it now make her more prone to taking things to heart? Or was it just simply that appreciation of just finally being able to accept what was said to her without searching for some hidden agenda.
Her time, these decades spent at building Arceneau Trade was a mighty lonely endevour. And it wasn't just them, she'd chide herself. No, she was equally to blame. She had taken Noxu's betrayal, Narevni's indifference, and Alric's breech of trust to heart.
Her daddy had once said, that 'the difference between Shesharilian vodka and Corellian whiskey is time'. Shesharilian Vodka drips from the still crystal clear and straight into the jug. Corellian Whiskey must mellow and age. The older it is, the more precious it becomes. Both make a sentient fall to their knees, but with whiskey the experience is far more reverent.
Which a man prefers says more about the man than the spirit.
Every barrel of Whyren's Corellian whiskey has its own way, it's own identity, it's own essence. The Blake family knew that well; no two barrels are ever exactly the same. The grain can be picked from the same field, the sugar poured from the same bag, the maple for the charcoal cut from the same Corellian Oak tree. Yet there in lies the subtle differences that distinguish each whiskey run: the depth of color, the degree of smoothness, the smoke absorbed from the charred handmade barrel.
That barrel that “breathes” as the whiskey ages -- expanding in summer, contracting in winter, forcing the Corellian whiskey in and out of the wood and giving it that color and flavor. As much as 30 percent of the alcohol evaporates into the air by the time it is ready for the bottle. The Blake's have been known to call this the " 'Verse's share.” For them, it is a small sacrifice for the spirit that remains.
A bottle that was ever more rarer now in the wake of the Nine Hells pouring out their dead.
Most would consider this bit of history of the spirit to be naught but mindless trivia; but there is a method to the madness. A reason to the tale. See a woman is like whiskey. She evaporates a little over time, distilled by disappointments and grief. One can never predict if the 'Verse will take the best of her or the worst. Only time will tell if the woman that remains will be bitter, dispirited, or aged to perfection.
Bitter, dispirited, or aged to perfection.
That's what her daddy done told her; and it had been a lesson the Queen of Trade had mulled night after night and year after year. Until finally, the realization set in. That time stops at certain moments in life, taking snapshots of the best and worse. Dreams and wishes fade to nothing and in the end, a life is totaled and defined by a handful of memories that hang in the mind.
She didn't want to be bitter any more. Nor dispirited. Maybe that's why when Aldiel D'Lessio made his offer, her name falling from his lips with genuine concern and invitation, Danger found herself with a certain kind of well of emotion she wasn't quite sure how to process. Things had turned out like that a bit so with [member="Judah Dashiell"] and [member="Makai Dashiell"].
Maybe it was time to open that door a little bit further?
Biting her lower lip, Danger gave an appreciative nod of thanks, her smile lingering but for a Lorrdian, one would gather from the subtle nuances that his offer had struck a cord in her.
"I'll take that to heart, Mistah D'lessio." Colette Arceneau's schoolin' was hard to shake, but even the lack of intimate use of Aldiel's first name didn't diminish the truth to Danger's words.
"Reckon you'll see me 'round Drogheda more often than not." but for now, there were other things to consider. The Senate. The chaos. The clone army.
But at the very least, Danger could truly say she met and identified with another who was much like her. Oh they'd have their differences, but the core of it was there.
And maybe, would pave a path for Danger to find another whom she could potentially be herself with.