Giana figured she looked pretty good.
After an afternoon of work, she'd gotten her necklace finished, and the corset she'd borrowed from Sarinah fit like a glove. Giana hadn't thought she'd been shaped like an exotic dancer, but now she knew. She'd pulled her long dark hair off her face so the tails of bright color streamed from a clasp in the back instead of on the sides.
Her newly made skirt flowed over her legs heavily and reassuringly as she walked. The whole walking bit was a bit hard in heels, but he was so tall. It was worth it. Now to find him.
Warwick had said he'd be eating dinner later, and she figured he'd be having stew with the majority of the festival, especially because it was free. She was especially happy about the fact that today it was potato-leek stew, so she didn't have to respectfully decline or watch him eat hingle or something equally bad.
She saw him sitting alone at a small table, a bowl in his hand. It was sort of endearing that he had a little bit of leek on his face, she decided.
"Hesta, Warwick! Nice to see you this evenin'."
She smiled.
------------------
((FYI: The necklace Gi made looks something like this:

Different colors. That's by Nayruasukei on dA...go see her gallery! Her jewelry is so pretty.))

Giana was dressed for -- for something fancy, for an event. She was done up, clean, put together. She looked...well...nice.

And Warwick did not.

These were the same clothes she'd seen him in before; somewhere between comfort and costume, a patchwork that looked intentional but was also practical, easy to repair. His boots were ugly but sturdy, his pants faded and torn around the cuffs. If she was bright, it'd only take her a moment to realize that these were probably the only clothes he really owned.

He was curled in over his bowl of stew and he blinked up at her, surprised, with his mouth full of leek. Too full to reply; he just blinked at her, perplexed and vaguely embarrassed.

Giana laughed a little at the look on his face.
"D'you need a drink wi' that?"
He was wearing what she'd seen him in before. Not that it looked bad on him, of course. At this point he'd gotten a bit too romanticized in her head for anything to look bad on him, and he was just wearing normal, practical clothes. She particularly like the look of those clunky boots. Of course, she resolved if they ever got together, really together so it wouldn't be weird, she'd make him something else.

He mumbled something around the bite -- and right after he'd warned himself not to -- and then winced. Bad idea. He chewed and swallowed that too-large bite, bowl balanced on his knee, and stared up at her. That perplexed edge still stuck around the edges of his expression.

"What're ye all dressed up for?" It slid toward worry, too. Had he missed something? Was he supposed to be fancied up? He could have slapped out some of the dust, anyway...

"Um, uh, well...I guess I just wanted to look a bit, um, different."

For you. She knew she was blushing, and hoped the evening twilight hid it a bit.

"And you look great, Warwick. You didn't forget anything, promise. I know that look. My parents used t' do it all the time."

A better flirt would have made some sort of joke, she supposed, but Giana was not much of a flirt. She figured most of the truth wouldn't hurt. He didn't have to know she wanted to look good for him personally, did he?
He did look great. The darkened sunlight made him look almost as perfect as just-risen sun, like she'd first seen him yesterday. She'd really never thought the clothes made the man, after all.
She sat down next to him on the bench.

"D'you mind if I go get some o' that stew and come eat it with you?"

More smiles.

"Uh." Warwick's attention slid slowly from her down into the bowl, and then back up. He pushed himself up to stand, suddenly, offering her his place -- freshly sweeped and tidied up by the seat of his pants. She could sit with only minimal dirt to the white of her skirt.

"I can get it. And, uhm, more for me too..." And he could get drinks and try to figure out what was going on here, exactly. He retreated quickly, trying to get away before she objected. It'd take him ten minutes, maybe, before he'd come back with fresh bowls and drinks, halfway juggling them and looking calmer.

Ten minutes later, Giana watched him come back with the stew, and a few drinks as well. She noted with a bit of delight that he'd remembered she didn't drink.
"Mujo ma."
She brushed off the spot beside her for him, and got up to help him with the bowls he was carrying.

"It's pretty good." He might have sorted things out some, but by no means had he really gotten a grasp on the situation. That run-and-hide voice was whirling in the back of his head, probably due to the mention of her parents; combined with the fancy dress...well.

He sank down to sit, bowl on his knees. not digging into it just yet. "How's business then?"

"It's okay. I've done up a few pieces, and I actually got some time to work on other things today. How's your act coming? You find anyone to join up with?"
Giana wasn't going to mention her past as a performer, since she doubted she could do it now, being a grown woman and not a limber, thin child like she'd been, back with her parents' show. The tumbling would probably be too much, and if all she could do was juggle a bit, she doubted she'd be of much use.

"Don't know..." He made a little face, nodding out toward the crowd around them. This was a familiar topic, at least, and one he understood. One he knew the answer to.

"I need someone strong, who can lift me, ye chen? The old act..." Just a breath of hesitation, a mouthful of leek, before he continued. "Well, was all about tossin' and jumpin' on his shoulders an'...ye know. Support beam. It's harder without, it's just me fallin' all over myself."

"Ah, well. I used to do a tumblin' act with my parents up until I was ten, but I can't prol'ly do it now, and I definitely couldn't lift you. Can hardly lift two hingles, me. So that's out."
She laughed, looked at him. Obviously she was exaggerating a bit with the hingles, but hey. (Her cutoff was about six; at that point they started dropping out whether they were too heavy or not.)
"I was hardly cut out for it, anyway. I'm sure you're amazing. Hey, you know what? Maybe you could join up with Balder's Circus! You'd do well, I bet. And it'd give me an excuse to go see 'em."

There was a strange look on Warwick's face, distant and -- and amused. In reality, something about her comment had left him with the mental picture of the girl juggling a dozen or more hingles, their little legs twitching and flailing in the air as they spun, squeaks as they were launched upward. It was a goofy look, halfway to laughter, and he had a hard time pulling himself out of it.

"...would they...uh." His voice was fragile, laughter thickening his throat. Or maybe that was the stew. He swallowed. "Would they want me? I mean, do they need me?"

"Umm...I'm not sure, but I could ask Calli for you when I see her next! I bet you'd enjoy it. And they'd keep you in mind if they didn't need anyone now!" She raised her finger in epiphany as she said the last part.
She wanted to see him happy, actually happy, and she was pretty sure this'd do it. She knew that when she'd started drawing and taking care of her pets, it'd gotten her out of the dumps she'd been in after her life took a complete turnaround. She wondered who his old partner had been. They sounded close, almost...family? Oh, the poor thing. Not him, too.

"...I don't know." He really didn't, either. Some fluttery creature deep in the pit of his stomach objected mightily to the idea; he'd seen the circus, and it made him...jittery, really. Warwick poked at his stew again before planting his spoon in it, giving up.

"I mean. I appreciate th' idea, I do. And mujo ma...but...I have te think." There, a smile -- that was reassuring, wasn't it? "Figure out what te say, an' what te show. If I can even manage an act on my own..."

"All right, you think. I'll help you practice if you end up wantin' to try out."

Maybe she'd go with him if he went, see if they needed someone...maybe someone good with animals. She hated to admit it, but the festival would be over soon, and she couldn't bring herself to go back to Dorhaven just yet.

"Oh yeah?" A look up at her, considering, his head tilted to the side. Serious, for once; no goofy smile or joking comments. He was really thinking about it. "Are ye any good at planning things out? Ideas fer shows, costumes, all that?"

"Pretty good, I'd say. I..I don't know! Hopefully good enough. Sorry." She hated talking about herself, her accomplishments...but she was pretty sure she could handle a bit of design. She had an artists' eye, after all.
((SFSR))

"...if I were te audition, just, ye know, maybe..." He hesitated. Was that vague enough? He thought it was -- Warwick chomped on some more leek, sucking on the outside of his thumb in a thoughtful sort of way. He could try, anyway, what was the worst that would happen?

They'd shrug him off and he'd be exactly where he was. That idea shouldn't have been quite so thoroughly horrifying, but it made him wriggle. "Don't know. Ent got so much right now, mebbe have te get some more clothes first an'...an' everything."

"Well, depending on whatch'ya need, I could help with the clothes bit. I've made some stuff before."

She ate a bit more of her stew. Wasn't bad, for being potato and leek.

"And I think you should try for it. I know getting turned down's awful, but getting picked's much better! I've tried for lots of spots and not got 'em."

She was exaggerating a bit on that, but there was that one vet who hadn't wanted her as an assistant when she was young. For years after, she'd thrown tomatoes at his shop window whenever he wasn't looking.

"I'll tag along with you if'n you do go. Need something to do."

"Yeah, sure." He flashed her a smile, shrugging away the subject for now with a careless flick of one hand. His own stew -- his second bowl -- was already mostly gone. The good bits, at least, had been picked out of it, leaving it more toward soup than stew...

"We should go fer a walk." Because he didn't think he could sit still for much longer. This was about his limit.

"Sure thing! I've been sitting a bit too long myself. Any direction in particular?"
She finished up the last bit of her stew and got up to put the bowls back.
"You want me to take that for you?"

"I'll go with ye." He held onto his bowl, shrugging off the offer as he nudged himself up to stand. Warwick'd even reach out to take her bowl, if she'd let him; offering a little quirk of a sideways smile. "I appreciate the help, I do. Don't know so many people anymore, my circle was always kind of...small. Ye chen?"

"Ah, thanks. Yeah, I used to be terrible at making friends. Seems now I make one every few minutes 'r so. Dunno what does it."
She got to the table where everyone was supposed to put their dirty dishes and placed hers down.

"...personable." He flashed her a smile that was dangerously close to a grin. He rolled the word over, like it tasted good, like it was comfortable in his mouth -- it was a good one, meaningful, true. Better than being pretty, or smart, in Warwick's head: it simply meant she was herself.

"Where ye want te go?" His own plate was set down less ceremoniously, all but tossed into the pile. He shrugged at her.

She understood what that meant to him by the way he said it.
"Mujo ma! You've got some of that going on yourself. I dunno where to go. If you know, we'll go there, otherwise..."
She turned around and randomly pointed.
"That way! Unless it's a wall or something."