[ Poesia is an impossible figure to miss. Tall and lithe, a lady's poise over bubbly energy, gold hair braided and pinned neatly to be out of the way. She moves towards him, graceful and smiling with guileless delight. ]

Goodness, aren't you lovely. Would you be dear Marcus, who's promised to play a lovely game with me? [ Her head tips, birdlike and fae as her eyes trace the width of his shoulders with open interest that sharpens her smile. ] Or if you are not, perhaps you'd like to play another game?