Emryc had no outward reaction to Tia completely losing it over the shot, reminded of the dignified way a prince once handled it when he encountered a horrific hot sauce. He calmly checked his chrono, adjusting the lighting on the face of it briefly. Emryc generally took no pleasure in open mockery of others and that was clear even now. Emryc kept his gaze firmly elsewhere until Tia spoke again. He tilted his head to look at her, face never revealing he saw or noticed anything.
Emryc said nothing for a moment, catching a tear from her watery eyes threatening to slide down. He reached a finger over to brush it aside, conveniently disguising it as removing a lock of hair out of the way. The gesture was subtle and he spoke in the same beat, “The reasons were rather silly. I wanted to work on my footwork for saber dueling. I began to research dances that relied on strict postures and control of limbs. I practiced for hours in my cargo hold, but eventually grew to like it for what it was. It became a hobby.”
He ordered a mixed drink this time, a neon blue one that he hadn’t had since he last visited the underground scene on Nar Shaddaa. Emryc took a sip, glancing briefly over at a few people attempting to make eyes at him. He shook his head and focused back on the drink, “It did help my combat training in the end. I’m not particularly good at sticking with conventional methods of doing things as you’ll have noticed by now.”
@GABA