Re: [Ragnar L & Atticus M : Museum]
Atticus didn't mind selfish pursuits. In fact, his life was defined by them. Didn't go trawling bars, but that was out of sheer laziness. Now that he was in the Capital, after the moon, and with no expectations on his time, he might just stay. See the sights. Get drunk. Get laid. Rinse and repeat.
When Ragnar said he had no plans for the day, Atticus just quirked a thick brow. Didn't look like the kind of man who had no one waiting once he clocked out, but Atticus wasn't asking questions. Just nodded. Appreciative in the incline of his curly head. "Show me, then," he said, his expression sliding back into inoffensive and lazy professor, eternally forgetful, eternally harmless. In his head, the wolf would've chuckled if he could.
Walked. Didn't rush. Ambled. Looked around as he did. Was attentive. For all that he'd fallen into disrepair, Atticus was still an academic at heart. Was interested in the items he would be shown. He moved in a mild shuffle of steps that said he'd easily go elsewhere, if led. It was all rather deceptive, in a way.
"Just got a place in the south woods, near the lake," he offered. Could smell the water on the man at his side. Since the bite, his sense of smell had been heightened. Could smell salt, too. Assumed it was as due to nearness with the display items. "Own the B&B and lived out at the Carriage House for a while. Just decided I needed more fresh air." Wasn't a lie. Wasn't the whole truth, but wasn't a lie. Smiled over at the young man when he made the comment about intellect. "Like to read. Does that count?" Shook his head slightly. "Not so academic these days, but you called these your items. Historian?"