Re: [Not-a-picnic: Nel, Lear, Daddy]
Nel listened to her brother's statements of preference. They were no surprise to her, and she was perfectly aware that he rather slept with more men in town than women. Nel kept track, you see. She wouldn't even bother pretending it was all for protection and safety, because Nel was a woman who didn't lie to herself. And if one wasn't going to lie to oneself, then why lie at all? She saw little point, after all her years, in pretending to be something she was not, at least when it came to those who already knew her for the being she truly was.
"Specimens, are we? How complimentary," and Lear stepped away. Nel moved forward and with or without permission, she tipped Leslie's chin up. "You should come by the studio one day. My camera might just like you."
With that, she stepped back and looked at her sibling, her icy blue eyes gaining a mere touch of nearly unnoticeable warmth. "I believe we're done," she told him, and she tugged her coat closer about her body as she looked over her shoulder at their errant sire. "Do tell me what you've learned, once you learn something of import." It was all a test, you see, just as much as it was not one.
Conversation ended, interview concluded, Nel turned. It was a lovely day for a long motorcycle ride, and the goddess of death intended to not look back until she'd reached a shining sea. After all, she'd all the time in the world.