Chrys/Laine (freckled) wrote in summerview, @ 2019-03-16 20:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | chrysanthemum, mircea nicolau, player: jamie, player: lyddia |
The Sleepy Satyr was probably as good a place as any to put up Xi’s second in command. Mircea’s house was not suited for visitors, what with the books everywhere. He wasn’t a hoarder, per se. In fact, when everything was in its proper place, things were quite neat and tidy, but he wasn’t home nearly often enough to get them into their proper place so things sort of went… Out of place for months at a time before he finally had a night at home with enough time to get sick of the clutter and do something about it.
And then about a week later it was back to business as usual. The funny thing, in Mircea’s mind anyway, was (as he’d discovered on his research mission at Jayati’s that had gone horribly awry) that this Chrysanthemum (aka Avelaine) Fírinne actually had family in town. A brother. The owner of the bar he didn’t usually frequent (a little too pretentious for his tastes, particularly when typically he just wanted a really dark beer and a dark corner to nurse it in). He sort of wondered what that was about, but also had the self-awareness to know that was none of his business. That wasn’t really the point anyway. The point was, he was supposed to be getting Xi’s lieutenant settled in which meant… Well, honestly, it was fairly vague. But he supposed filling any gaps regarding her knowledge of Summerview was a good place to start. The days were still blissfully short, so he arrived at The Sleepy Satyr a few minutes after sundown, risking the walk over during sunset since the sky was fairly gray anyway, stopping at the front desk to get the room information from this really wild looking guy with curly hair (the Satyr, he suspected), and arrived at her door, knocking in a very business-like manner. Good lord he was getting so rusty. When was the last time he’d been part of a proper revolution? He didn’t realize he was leaning against the doorframe in contemplation (very businesslike, clearly) when the door swung open. Chrys pulled the door open with a proper ‘hello?’ coming from her lips. And he was right there. Their height difference was incredibly apparent, standing there so close. He had a good six or seven inches on her, but then again most people had some height on her. Not a thing that ever bothered her in the least bit. She could intimidate people without inches. Anyone who couldn’t was sloppy. “Oh! Hello!” she said again with a small, curled smile. She’d expected him at some point, though she had no idea when that point was going to be. Until now, at least. “Mircea, right?” she asked, taking a step back to let him enter. Her room was just big enough for her tastes, but she knew she couldn’t stay there forever. The longer Xi wanted her in town, the more apparent it was that she was going to have to get her own apartment. Staying with Julius was not an option she wanted to even think about entertaining. More apparent still when he was no longer leaning against the door frame, snapped to attention. He probably should have expected her to be tiny considering… Well. Fae. But something about the fact that she was supposed to be second in command, leading the charge in an anti-human revolution. The curly hair gave her a couple more inches. Anyway, not like he could judge. Napoleon wasn’t a very big guy and he’d taken over most of Europe. She was easily much prettier though. Than Napoleon. Obviously. He could definitely see the resemblance between her and the bar owner, which he probably should have expected, but it still threw him a bit. Sometimes he forgot what it was like having siblings. It had… Been a couple centuries since he’d lost his own. But now was not the moment for such thoughts. Mircea grinned back, all teeth and all business. “That’s me,” he confirmed with a nod, following her into the room. “How are you settling in?” “Pretty well, considering,” Chrys admitted and closed the door behind him with a click. If he hadn’t been somewhat expected, she doubted very much she’d have let him in, but he was and he was trusted by people she trusted. That was all she could ask for. “I’m bored, mostly. I’m not sure what all I need to do here yet.” She had to get her bearings first, before she really started her ‘work’. Work. That was another thing. Money wasn’t something she wanted for, but in order to fully assimilate, a job of some sort was probably in short order. There wasn’t much suited for her though, she guessed. Maybe it was something she could ask him. “How are you? How long have you been here?” she asked, fully looking at him with interest. Bored? “Isn’t this your first venture out into the mundane world?” Mircea asked, eyebrows raised curiously. “Already seen everything there is to offer?” It wasn’t a judgement, more surprise at how anyone could possibly be bored in a completely foreign environment? “Or were you waiting for an escort?” That seemed likely. From what he’d read about her and her people while digging through Jayati’s library, she was a Lady. And from what he remembered about the aristocracy (before he brought it down… On multiple occasions), a Lady needed an escort. Clearly he should have gotten here sooner. “Oh, alright I suppose. And to answer your question, thirty years, give or take,” he replied without missing a beat. “So, you know. I’ve got all the dirt on this place.” He grinned, inadvertently flashing his fangs (sort of unavoidable, really). “I suppose you’d like to maybe get out of here and see the island?” “No, of course I haven’t seen everything,” Chrys chuckled. It was more she was stuck and didn’t know where to go from here. She was still settling. Of course, escorts were always welcome and preferred, though not always feasible.If he was offering though, she’d take him up on it. Thirty years in town and he’d know all the dirty little secrets and haunts. “I’d love to,” she admitted and looked around the room for where she stuck her bag. “Who better to show me around than a veteran?” When he flashed his fangs a thought ran through her mind. Just how old was he? Older than her? It’d be something she’d have to keep an ear out for, though it truly didn’t matter in the end. Curiosity, that was all.. Though he had a nice smile anyway, even with the somewhat unsightly fangs. It only took Chrysanthemum a moment to find her bag and to scoop it up onto her arm, ready in an instant to go see what the island did have to offer. Oh good. Mircea was a much better teacher when he had access to visuals, and so getting out of this hotel room was ideal. “Ah, well, in that case, shall I show you around?” If she was going to be recruiting people, it was probably best she knew all the hotspots, though part of him was curious to know why she wasn’t using her brother to this end. Not that he was complaining. He’d wedged himself into this revolution for a reason, and aside from Lenore there weren’t a lot of pretty women he got to show the town he’d reluctantly made his home thirty-ish years ago. The only other women in his purview either weren’t speaking to him (and knew the town like the back of her hand) or were pretty capable of handling themselves and him. Or worse. He’d babysat them as a small child. “I guess, I mean, technically that’s why I’m here, right?” He waited, hands in his pockets as she collected her bag. “What would you like to see first? Nightlife? Shops? Need something to eat?” The Sleepy Satyr served dinner, he knew that much, but he wasn’t sure how it was since the place switched hands six months ago. As far as he could tell it all looked the same--the door decorations were amped up a bit but nothing too crazy--but maybe a big family style communal meal at a B&B wasn’t her thing? “I’m starved actually,” she admitted. The hotel wasn’t bad, neither was the food, but eating with a bunch of virtual strangers like they were at some holiday meal definitely wasn’t her thing. “We can stop somewhere good really quickly,” Chrys suggested. Then onto nightlife. Shops, she could find herself, unless they were little hole in the wall places that one needed intimate knowledge of Summerview to even know existed. “You know what? I’m going to let you decide. Take me to your favorite spot here. Anywhere you think I’d need to know about,” Chrys grinned, momentarily showing just how thrilled she actually was to be getting out and about with someone. “Or anywhere you think I’d like. I don’t really mind.” She pulled open the door and waited for him to vacate so she could lock up and ward the place again. It was only smart, especially when one was leaving for who knew how long. It was a good thing he loved food so much, or he might not have a very good idea of where to take her. As it was, even with all the food eating when he didn’t actually need to, this was sort of a conundrum. It seemed most appropriate to take her to Veritas, being classy and Fae owned as it was but. She was asking his opinion here. Where did he think she needed to go? If she was doing any recruiting here, the people who’d be easiest to pull to the cause would be found at The Long Way Down. He’d spent many a long night in an establishment like that one, centuries before he’d wandered into Summerview, and long before the place even existed on this island. “Alright,” he said, coming to the conclusion out loud and in his head at the same time. “It’s not going to be glamorous, but if you’re really hungry, there’s no better place to begin.” Mircea gestured to her, indicating she should lead the way out of the Satyr at least, his hands back in his pockets as she warded the room. He was honestly curious to see what her reaction would be to the place. It was definitely sort of the opposite type of place from what he knew her kind would probably enjoy, so in a way it was a bit of a test. But in truth, it was sort of a hot spot. And the food would stick to her ribs. Not glamorous, huh? That actually sounded more intriguing than if he’d said he was taking her someplace with linen tablecloths and a house band. The mild warning left Chrys wanting, her spark of curiosity swirling through her like sugar in a stirred cup of tea. What she wouldn’t give for a cup of tea right then, but she pressed on, going out into the still darkness of the evening. They probably had something warm to drink there, wherever he was taking her or at least something that would warm her down to her bones. Even normal restaurants surely had wine, didn’t they? At least. As they walked, Chrys looked at him from over her shoulder, smiling with some of the same curiosity as she felt about the restaurant. “Can I ask how you came to know Xi?” she asked, as if he’d answer her straight from that. There was no true way that he’d turn her down, not when she was the second in command, even if they didn’t exactly know each other. Not here. Not yet. That would clearly change though, as the months wore on. She hoped at least. There was no need to be lonely, to lack acquaintances when she wa spending some time here. Staying bored wasn't going to be a thing, not if she had anything to do with it. Mircea was trying to envision the town through the eyes of someone who had never been there, never been anywhere but home, really--a difficult feat to accomplish, really, considering he’d left his own home long ago, and had been here for decades--in order to decide what merited pointing out, when she asked her question. “She came into my bookstore,” he said simply with a soft shrug. “I’m not sure if she heard about me before she came in and was just waiting for me to spill my history, or if it was entirely by accident, but I get the feeling nothing is an accident with her.” That and, Xi’s sister had given him that distinct impression. Almost in so many words. “Speaking of,” he said pointing to a building to their right with a brightly lit window display of strange and unusual books mixed with recently published paperbacks and hardcovers, “This is my store, and just a little further down is the arcade, if you’re looking for entertainment, or there’s the movie theater, on your left.” It wasn’t exactly prime recruitment locations he was pointing out, but she couldn’t recruit anyone if she was antsy with cabin fever, probably. Right? Bookstore. So, he was smart. It made sense, if he knew Xi. She usually didn’t keep anyone not useful under her wing. As she listened, she silently agreed with him, listening to him more than keeping the surroundings in her purview. He was right. Nothing with Xi was an accident and if it ever was, she played it like it wasn’t. “You catch on,” Chrys smiled at him, eyes squinting ever so slightly until she finally pulled her eyes back to the front. Running into something in front of him or anyone for that matter would be too embarrassing. His store looked interesting, in the best way. It wasn’t like anything she’d ever seen and Chrys made a mental note to visit it when she could. If anything, there might be some pertinent information in some books in there. She’d always been a reader and it felt like that place was after her own heart by that one glance. The other things, well, they seemed interesting too. Movies, she’d heard of. Arcade as well, though she’d never played anything. It was al foreign with only the vaguest sense of information soaked into her head. “I’ll keep those in mind. I’m definitely going to stop into your bookstore,” she almost hummed, her mood inflating with each step they took out in the night air. They were growing closer, she could feel it. And then they were there, the sign for the bar in hard to miss letters right in front. “I guess we’re here, huh?” “Yeah, well,” Mircea began, a small shrug as he returned the smile, “I’ve had a long time to figure people out.” Particularly people like Xi. He was well acquainted with people who stirred up trouble and started revolutions. For obvious reasons. There was a very real sense of pride that filled him at her approval regarding his shop. He’d put a lot of himself into it, after finding it in disrepair as he had over thirty years ago, but it was still a work in progress. A living breathing thing, practically. “I’d like that. We don’t have everything, but I’m pretty good at getting things we might not have in stock if you don’t mind waiting a couple days.” That was the other thing about being a) old and b) settled in one place for some time: you had connections. “Yep,” he confirmed with a nod, “this is the place.” He pushed open the door for her. “Welcome to the Long Way Down.” “What’s a couple of days?” Especially to people like them. A month was nothing. Days was a breath and a half and that was all. Plus, anything was better than having to go out and search for herself, using things she wasn’t acquainted with well. Like the internet. Chrys thought for a moment, her dark eyes swimming as she looked at the place. Long Way Down. It didn’t look like much, but he’d warned her about it. But Chrys didn’t scare easily, even if it had been such a place. It looked fine. Safe. She stepped in, silently pushing herself through the door as she stepped into the dim lighting. Music moved around them, filling her ears to the brim with unheard melody. Even for the early hour, it wasn’t sparse. Without hesitation, she took a seat at the bar and waited for Mircea, if she could even hear him, but she felt him near her. She gave a quick look back and smiled. “Is here okay or would you rather have a table?” she asked, tapping her fingers along the bar into time with the song. “Point taken,” he agreed with a small smile. Time was incredibly malleable after a while. Seemed to shrink the more it passed by. It was incredible how long everything seemed when time was finite. Mircea was impressed, quite frankly, when she meandered to the bar instead of seeking out a booth. Seemed an unusual choice for someone as high class and whatever as she was supposed to be. “Wherever you wanna sit, lady. I’m flexible,” he said, shrugging as he hopped onto a stool next to her. “I recommend the Kitchen Sink Stew if you really want something that’ll stick to your ribs. But everything’s good.” Said the Vampire who ate purely for pleasure. “Kitchen Sink Stew?” she asked curiously, making a face despite herself. It was rude to poke her nose up at things, even if it did sound absolutely dreadful. It couldn’t be helped though. She put her hand on the bar and waited until someone brought her a menu, which wasn’t long. She smiled at them and popped it open, running her eyes down the list. “I’ll take some dry red wine. Whatever you have,’ she said to them. “And...what’s the second best thing other than Kitchen Sink Stew? Or am I going to have to trust my companion?” She tilted her head over at Mircea with a mischievous little smile that lit up her eyes. Just because it had an egregious sounding name didn’t make it any less delicious. Mircea nodded, expecting a reaction like that. “It’s a little bit of everything, but it’s really quite fantastic.” The bartender on duty nodded in agreement with a shrug to Chrys. “I mean, the wings are on special tonight, but personally I’d go with the stew.” Mircea offered a grin of thanks to the bartender and a consolatory shrug to Chrys. “I know I’m getting the stew. And I’ll also take whatever mead you’ve got on hand right now.” Nothing went with stew in a tavern like mead. “Alright,” Chrys laughed. The little bit of peer pressure worked. “I’ll try it.” The bartender nodded, smiling knowingly to her and left, leaving the two of them ‘alone’ as it were, even in the room full of people. “So tell me about yourself,” she asked. It was a simple, sort of too-simple question that left him in a spot that might be a little awkward. Nobody knew just what to say when asked about that. It was like those introductions at school that was the same in the fae realm as it was in the human one. Some things never changed. “Okay, actually.’ Chrys slipped her hands together, smoothing her fingers against the others. “That’s not really a fair question, is it?” She sort of wished now that she’d chosen a booth, more privacy to ask him about the more detailed aspects of their mission, but the stool did give her a more broad view of the people in there. That’s what she’d been thinking of when she picked her seat. She was trying to get to know the place, after all. “They don’t have pie here, do they?”” she asked curiously, looking over the menu. She doubted they’d have pie, not in pub/bar, but maybe they did somewhere else in town. Somewhere for later on. For some reason a blackberry tart was sounding good right then in a way that was inexplicable. Maybe some comfort of home. “Do you know my brother?” She might as well ask that too and get it out of the way. It was a lot of question, for someone with a short lived life, but particularly for someone who had a handful of centuries to explain when asked such a thing. “Ah well… I mean, what do you want to know?” He managed to stammer, a nervous scratch at the back of his neck before she took it back anyway. “It’s a very broad question,” he conceded, with a small smile. “I’m about five hundred seventy years old, so you’ll have to be more specific.” Of course, he knew a fair amount about her--at least, as much as he could glean from Jayati’s library in the books on Seelie records, which really only painted a very broad picture--who her parents were, her lineage, and a bunch of very outdated Fae things that he thought people stopped keeping track of after the turn of the century (the 19th to the 20th, that is). Classic debutant things. Rich people stuff. Things that he’d personally fought to do away with in several countries on a few different occasions. Not that that was her fault, but it was strange to think about. Mircea nodded. “They definitely have pie.” Rather good pie too. “But if they don't have what you want here, there’s also a bakery in town, run by a Hob woman. I guarantee she’ll have the best pie you ever tasted. Not to knock the pie here, of course, but what she does is otherworldly.” Obviously. He was grateful the bartender returned with their drinks just then so he had a momentary distraction to process that unexpected question. After a good, deep sip of mead he nodded. “The one who owns the other bar, right? We’ve met. He reads a lot.” Which was saying something, coming from a guy who had books all over his house, taking over most surfaces. “It is,” she said, giving a nod of her head. It was all the apology he was going to get, could get. It did concede to the fact that he was double her age and more and she wouldn’t have even liked to have answered it. They’d be there all night and some of the next, if he was going to go into his full history, but neither of them wanted that. She knew that for sure. That little bout of nerves he’d shown didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m sure they’ll have something I like,” she said. “I’ll definitely need to try this Hob woman’s pie though, if it’s otherworldly,/i>,” Chrys pushed out with a grin. Too bad he hadn’t taken her there first, but it wasn’t as if the town wouldn't be wide and at her disposal for the next however long Xi wanted her there for. She had time. In abundance. Taking her glass of wine, she hummed as it soaked across her tongue. It was rather good, for probably being relatively cheap, considering the place they were in. She was used to a little higher priced things, but it didn’t always stop her from indulging. Like the stew. Her father might be horrified. Too bad. She wasn’t under his roof anymore. “That sounds like him,” she shrugged and took another drink, then set the glass down with a light clink on the counter. The lack of elaboration on his part spoke volumes in her opinion, unless it was just a passing meeting, which she wasn’t sure about if she knew he read like he did. “Just curious. He seems to be one of those people that everyone knows around here.” It wasn’t even nerves so much as it was false modesty and a bit of… Well, knowing what people’s reactions were when he really got going on his past. A certain self awareness. It was long and storied. And also seemed incongruous with his current position in an anti-human revolutionary movement, when almost all of it had been centered on improving the lives of different marginalized groups of humans. “But I mean, if you’re really curious, and you’ve got time, I’ve got a lot of history. But it might just be faster to ask when and where I haven’t been.” Which, granted, was still a lot of places, but certainly many more than her. Mircea liked to do things in a certain order. Dinner before dessert was one of those things. “Not just the pie. Everything she makes. But I think that’s generally true of Hobs?” As far as he knew, anyway. That was an interesting reaction, he thought. “It’s the sort of thing that happens when you own a business in a small town like this. You pick up connections pretty easy.” He cocked his head to the side, regarding her curiously. “Have you not spoken to him since you’ve been here? I was actually surprised you weren’t staying with him, to be honest. I would have assumed it was more convenient to stay with family than the Satyr.” “I’ve got some time, clearly,” Chrys admitted. Though she wasn’t sure just how tired they’d grow of each other as the night wore on if they took that route. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested, she was. Anyone in their network, especially the higher ups were people she wanted to know about or she wouldn’t have asked. Plus without some sort of sharing, the night would grow boring rather quickly and they weren’t even through a first round of drinks. “But that’s a good point. So...where has been your favorite place to live? I clearly haven’t traveled as much as you either, unfortunately.” She made a sort of downturned face that wasn’t quite a frown then, but it disappeared almost instantly. “Hobs are great that way,” Chrys agreed. There were some back home, one in particular who made her favorite whenever she saw her. Truth be told, Chrys missed that woman, but it had been years since she’d seen her anyway. Caught. That’s how Chrys felt anyway with Mircea looked at her like that. Utterly caught. “I haven’t actually,” she told him. “You could say we have some interesting family issues going on.” She laughed, though the sound didn’t have much humor in it, just enough to keep it from being a cold, hollow sound. She grinned anyway though. “I’ll end up talking to him though. Still, I doubt I’ll end up staying with him. I’ll get my own place here shortly, I’m sure.” Or end up staying with someone else, if they’d have her. Time would tell. That was a much better question. Though possibly just as difficult answer. “Hmm… London circa the 1970’s, actually.” That or Mexico in the late 1930s. But that was sort of a short lived thing, and he hadn’t really gotten to enjoy it when they were all looking over their shoulders all the time. That and it was tainted by the fact that he’d swiftly returned to Europe after Trotsky was assassinated to dive right into World War II. “I owned a record store.” It didn’t sound revolutionary, but uh. It was pretty punk rock, alright? “Well then you’ll love this one.” He actually hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting a whole plethora of them, honestly. But then he’d spent a lot of time hanging around humans and fighting their battles. But he read a lot, so he knew a lot. At least as much as a book could tell him about other supernaturals. There was nothing like being in a sanctuary and coming face to face with all of them though. It really changed your perspective. Interesting. Very interesting. “I’m sure it can’t be that bad.” Mircea had a very rose colored glasses view on families, possibly because he hadn’t had one in so long. But he’d taken care of a lot of the kids on the island when they were still… Kids. So he’d at least been around other families, which had also informed his opinion that there weren’t a lot of things that could really drive a wedge between family members. “Like, what? Did he kill someone? Run off with your lover?” He wasn’t sure why he assumed Julius was the problem, but then again, he did sort of have that air about him. A chip on his shoulder maybe. That and he’d clearly been in the Mundane world longer than Chrys. Maybe he was being nosy now but, it was too strange to not ask questions. Who lived in the same town as their sibling and didn’t associate with them? “Record store. That’s actually really interesting. What made you give it up?” she asked curiously, her hand tangling in her hair as she took another drink of her wine. There were things that she could imagine herself doing. Owning her own business was one of them, though she’d had no idea what she’d sell. Maybe that was another thing she and Julius had in common, but she wasn’t about to admit that. At the hob comment, she nodded, her mouth still full of wine. The good thing about this place was how many creatures there were, but there were also no real sections of people and places. Anyone could drop in and mingle. Including people she didn’t want to associate with. “I was just a kid,” she laughed, after hearing his guesses. Running off with her lover would be something to hold a grudge over. “The most basic explanation was that he ran off from home and hasn’t spoken to me in over two-hundred years.” Was she twelve? It sounded about right, though time was a mix that spun together and got lost. “Didn’t get along with our dad.” That she couldn’t exactly blame him for. Even if she only thought it begrudgingly. “So I’m a little...it’s a little awkward.” He asked, so she’d answered. It wasn’t exactly a secret she was keeping close to her chest. Frankly, he was just impressed she knew what a record store was. He’d obviously never been to the Summerlands, but he got the impression mundane technology didn’t really run rampant there. “Oh, it was great. Nothing terribly exciting unfortunately. It was just time to pack up and move on before someone caught on to the fact that I hadn’t been aging.” Ten years was his rule, usually. He’d been there for about fifteen at that point. Nearly the entire decade of the 1970s and most of the 1980s. Punk had really grabbed hold of him, and then New Wave kept him there, and he might have stayed for the entire Grunge scene as well, but by that point it would have been incredibly obvious that he’d stayed about thirty years old when he probably should have been closer to sixty. Whoops. “Ah,” Mircea said with a nod. He supposed that would sting a little. “Must have been pretty bad then,” he commented, nodding sagely. Usually people who ran away from home had a pretty good reason, and he got the feeling she was sort of downplaying just how poorly Julius and their father got along, not on purpose of course, but because time and hurt tended to color these sorts of things a certain way. But half a millenium had given him enough insight and put him in the path of enough runaways to know that these things were rarely simple and were often accompanied with rather sad stories. Though it was interesting to note that she hadn’t run away. “Life is too long to hold onto things like that, I’ve found. And yet, people do.” After all, it was his own sire’s fault the Werewolf/Vampire feud existed. And while it had mostly dissipated, there were certainly those who still clung to it. Hopefully it wouldn’t take six hundred years--give or take--for the Fírinne siblings to sort out their stalemate. “All my siblings are dead though, so I might be biased, but personally, I wouldn’t let a couple centuries stand in the way of making up for lost time.” Honestly there wasn't much he wouldn’t give for some time with any one of them. “Oh, alright.” It was a reasonable enough explanation, though she didn’t think too much on it. It’d be the same problem for her as it would be for him, if she’d stayed in some mundane place where people around her fell into the crevice of wrinkles and aging. She didn’t even plan on staying here long enough to make that a worry, even if it happened to be one. It was about the same thing as Tulip had said. People hold onto things when they shouldn’t. Even if she hadn’t said it in those exact words, the message was the same. She’d flat out said to fix it though. Well, she wanted to see him, but she just...couldn’t yet. She wasn’t even sure why. Had she built it up into a thing that was growing with each passing day? Whatever happened, she knew she’d see him sooner or later and it’d be something less than pretty. “You aren’t the first person to say that to me,” she said with a non-committal shrug of her shoulders. Everyone cared, usually for Julius’ sake. If everyone meant one person. Mircea didn’t seem to even know much about Julius, so at least he wasn’t biased in that way. “I’ll get to him. I can’t guarantee how it’ll go, but I just might let you know when it does.” It was almost cheeky the way she said it, as if she was seeing if he cared at all to know. Probably not, but what was a little fun? It was a boring explanation, granted, but it was also sort of the same thing all around for most long-lived species. Usually they were careful to find a loophole so as not to give themselves away. Pretending to be their own children worked for some, others just packed up and found a new home. The world was vast. He’d personally always preferred to pack up and move on when it came time to do so. Mircea gave her a sage nod. “If it’s beginning to sound like an echo there might be some truth in it, hmm?” He had no real stake in this sibling fight though, he just hated to see people at odds over trivial things. Particularly when there were bigger things on the horizon. “In any case, it can’t help your focus on the task at hand if your always looking over your shoulder because you’re feuding with family, right?” Her next comment had him grinning at her, another flash of pointy canine teeth. “I’ll be interested to hear it. It’s a small town after all. I’ve got to get my entertainment somewhere.” |