Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-33209858-20161121040642/@comment-3991308-20161208093842

“Aww,” he said with sympathetic intentions at the princess’ failure. But when the words came out, they sounded more sarcastic. Ugh, that was a problem he could deal with later. '''“That’s disappointing. I’ll be pragmatic for once in my life and find the caretaker’s stepladder or something. Not now, though. I am not in a hunting-down-props mood!”'''

His last sentence was spoken with an air of defiance and determination. The boy looked ready to fight the world, if he wasn’t half sprawled out on the floor.

The princess told him that her name was Dainty, not Danish. What a shame, Sage though. Danish was a nice name, mostly because it reminded him of pastries. It also reminded him of home. His mind wandered off to other things: his sweet country of Denmark, buying pastries in Denmark, his village baker’s terrible choice in classical music–

His thoughts were cut short when he realised that Dainty (“not Danish”, Sage mentally added to his thought train) had asked him for his name.

“Sage,” he said. “Sage Idason.” The boy paused. It was correct decorum to give in addition the name of your tale and your role. But in Sage’s eyes, it was more fun watching people guess it, especially as somebody who rarely wore motifs of his story. Usually, however, his surname gave it away to the more well-read circles of Ever After, though.

He decided to say nothing after his name – not even a quick ‘hey, guess my tale!’. Sage didn’t want to ruin his characteristic ~mysterious air~ around non-theatre people.

'''“Anyway-- why are you here? Do you need something? Assistance? An attractive ballerina? A sense of belonging?”'''