NIKI
"If I do decide to do that, does that mean I will also be able to judge what is better between them?" Niki wonders, his voice suffused with a quiet playfulness. As Flora is undoubtedly realising, whether it's travelling to Torchline or agreeing to take on a project, the boy is affronted not so much by what a task might be, but rather the assumption that he will be strong-armed into doing it. (Not so surprising, given that there is so much he doesn't have a choice in - his own physical limitations and frail health at the forefront).
Huffing a soft laugh into the folds of his scarf in the hope it will fend off another coughing fit, he gives her a gentle shake of his head. "I suppose it is not so dramatic for you if you have lived it your entire life," he agrees, though that doesn't make it any less incredible to those peasants looking at Flora's situation from the outside. Nevertheless, he does raise his eyebrows at the two sets of demigod parents, only for the expression to soften to hear of her brother's death, whatever tense she might be speaking in. "I am sorry to hear that," he says softly.
As for himself, the boy can only offer a wrinkle of his nose and a self-deprecating shrug as they walk. "Nothing quite so exciting. I was raised in an orphanage in the Greatwood, back before things were so..." He gestures around them to indicate so closed off. "I do not remember much of my parents. I think they were kind, but perhaps naive as to the war with the Voice. I grew up in a group home until I was old enough to apprentice out. I worked for an undertaker for a time, but he passed away before I could complete my apprenticeship."
Gesturing ahead towards what will hopefully show his route home soon, he offers Flora a small, wry smile. "I still live at the mortuary, but please do not be alarmed - it is no longer a functioning building in that way."
Huffing a soft laugh into the folds of his scarf in the hope it will fend off another coughing fit, he gives her a gentle shake of his head. "I suppose it is not so dramatic for you if you have lived it your entire life," he agrees, though that doesn't make it any less incredible to those peasants looking at Flora's situation from the outside. Nevertheless, he does raise his eyebrows at the two sets of demigod parents, only for the expression to soften to hear of her brother's death, whatever tense she might be speaking in. "I am sorry to hear that," he says softly.
As for himself, the boy can only offer a wrinkle of his nose and a self-deprecating shrug as they walk. "Nothing quite so exciting. I was raised in an orphanage in the Greatwood, back before things were so..." He gestures around them to indicate so closed off. "I do not remember much of my parents. I think they were kind, but perhaps naive as to the war with the Voice. I grew up in a group home until I was old enough to apprentice out. I worked for an undertaker for a time, but he passed away before I could complete my apprenticeship."
Gesturing ahead towards what will hopefully show his route home soon, he offers Flora a small, wry smile. "I still live at the mortuary, but please do not be alarmed - it is no longer a functioning building in that way."
stay your pretty eyes on course
keep the memories of who i was before
keep the memories of who i was before
