But about that poker face-- he's failing hard at it right now.
There's curiosity in the tilt of his head, a lifted eyebrow that speaks of his desire to prod at the subject. Still he seems to take a hint, even if he lingers in the silence for a moment too long, before finally turning away, and raising his voice a bit, an entertainer through and through. And there are others listening, already, a few of them grumpily so, but they lingered, and Esteban catches himself back.
"So..." What was the story he'd promised again? There's so many that he knows-- but oh! This one had been more personal. Something that had happened a long time ago.
"So, here's the thing. I used t' have long hair, back then," he mentions, with a spark of mischief in the blue of his eyes. "An' I mean, pretty long--" At this, he straightens on his seat, and lays his hand across his back, just a bit lower than mid-spine.
There's something about the 'used to' in his sentence that seems to point out at something unfortunate. He's still grinning though, and it's a fond memory regardless.
"So, um. Lesson number one about fire spinnin'; keep your hair tied." He mentions with a snicker, "an' number two, careful which ribbons y' put in it."
It's a bit of a silly story. About people Esteban used to travel with; a family that loved to say they were fire elementals as they showed off their skills. "They all had speci'lties; Annuska loved th' rope dart, an' Pieter taught me th' staff. Their mom was the one t' first spot me an' put poi in my hands an' told me to goof 'round, but 'careful y' don't hit y'r eye.'"
There's a special way he pronounces the words as he speaks, a sharper end to his rs and a pinched a. But their cadence is-- familiar. Esteban must have spent quite a bit of time with them, to have picked up their speech patterns.
no subject
Really, he doesn't.
But about that poker face-- he's failing hard at it right now.
There's curiosity in the tilt of his head, a lifted eyebrow that speaks of his desire to prod at the subject. Still he seems to take a hint, even if he lingers in the silence for a moment too long, before finally turning away, and raising his voice a bit, an entertainer through and through. And there are others listening, already, a few of them grumpily so, but they lingered, and Esteban catches himself back.
"So..." What was the story he'd promised again? There's so many that he knows-- but oh! This one had been more personal. Something that had happened a long time ago.
"So, here's the thing. I used t' have long hair, back then," he mentions, with a spark of mischief in the blue of his eyes. "An' I mean, pretty long--" At this, he straightens on his seat, and lays his hand across his back, just a bit lower than mid-spine.
There's something about the 'used to' in his sentence that seems to point out at something unfortunate. He's still grinning though, and it's a fond memory regardless.
"So, um. Lesson number one about fire spinnin'; keep your hair tied." He mentions with a snicker, "an' number two, careful which ribbons y' put in it."
It's a bit of a silly story. About people Esteban used to travel with; a family that loved to say they were fire elementals as they showed off their skills. "They all had speci'lties; Annuska loved th' rope dart, an' Pieter taught me th' staff. Their mom was the one t' first spot me an' put poi in my hands an' told me to goof 'round, but 'careful y' don't hit y'r eye.'"
There's a special way he pronounces the words as he speaks, a sharper end to his rs and a pinched a. But their cadence is-- familiar. Esteban must have spent quite a bit of time with them, to have picked up their speech patterns.