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She knows what demons looks like, she knows the Grim Reaper well. Mortuus strikes her as neither. Though he could have fallen, perhaps, she doesn’t think he did. There’s something good beneath his willingness to explain poisons to her. Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe there was a willingness to explain poisons buried beneath the good. Hard to be certain without asking. Maybe one day she’d get the chance to ask.
“Mortuus,” she says with a grin, glad as always to see the healer that wasn’t made up of sunshine and rainbows. He seems so much less likely to judge her. “Not me today, though I’m very sure it will be me soon. Maybe not a body soon, but you never know.” She grins at him with a bit of playfulness behind that grin, tempted to ask him to join her for some ‘lessons’ in recreational herbs one evening. But then there are voices, and she finds herself slightly disappointed that their conversation was cut short so soon.
She doesn’t even have to introduce the patient, because he straight up declines the offer to be healed. Part of her is really not surprised, but she pretends slightly and says, “This stubborn soul. Mortuus, meet Altar. Altar, meet one of the guys who can tell you you are allowed to stay.” Her words are harsh, perhaps, but the tone is not. It is her usual, half joking, half smart-ass self.
“As for the sentinels, Beloved explained them to me, so maybe someone else can explain them to you in words.” Wessex and Mortuus would get that, Altar would not, but hopefully one of them would pick up where she could not. “The God of the Spark is the patron god of the Basin. There is also the Earth God, who owns no herd. The Mood Goddess, of the World’s Edge. And the Sun God, of the Dragon’s Throat.” And then she falls silent, letting everyone else fill in all the knowledge she didn’t yet have.
“Mortuus,” she says with a grin, glad as always to see the healer that wasn’t made up of sunshine and rainbows. He seems so much less likely to judge her. “Not me today, though I’m very sure it will be me soon. Maybe not a body soon, but you never know.” She grins at him with a bit of playfulness behind that grin, tempted to ask him to join her for some ‘lessons’ in recreational herbs one evening. But then there are voices, and she finds herself slightly disappointed that their conversation was cut short so soon.
She doesn’t even have to introduce the patient, because he straight up declines the offer to be healed. Part of her is really not surprised, but she pretends slightly and says, “This stubborn soul. Mortuus, meet Altar. Altar, meet one of the guys who can tell you you are allowed to stay.” Her words are harsh, perhaps, but the tone is not. It is her usual, half joking, half smart-ass self.
“As for the sentinels, Beloved explained them to me, so maybe someone else can explain them to you in words.” Wessex and Mortuus would get that, Altar would not, but hopefully one of them would pick up where she could not. “The God of the Spark is the patron god of the Basin. There is also the Earth God, who owns no herd. The Mood Goddess, of the World’s Edge. And the Sun God, of the Dragon’s Throat.” And then she falls silent, letting everyone else fill in all the knowledge she didn’t yet have.
- weaver -
@Mortuus Nox @Wessex @Altar
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Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
Image by AmoretteRose
