Oh, darling, if I ever cross your mind
King’s End had spent the majority of their youth as a wild, untamed land. Until Sunjata had decided to put work into it - beginning with the Barrows and its refuge from the last war. It was something that had then spread to the rest of the region, in building the very brothel the courtesan works at, to even building it a town and a sky port to ensure it was connected with the rest of the world. And Thorn had been there since the brothel’s beginning, able to witness its growth day after day, month after month.
“Yeah.” Thorn says with a soft little laugh, hoisting the bag up and over his shoulder as they find a space to settle with their drinks, and Thorn takes a healthy sip that has his throat burning comfortably, the lightness of his body coming to the forefront. He doesn’t drink that often, choosing mocktails over cocktails especially when working, and as of late he hasn’t had much downtime at all to actually be able to indulge.
All that to say he’s a fucking lightweight.
He finds a way to focus, though, glancing over at Damien with a twist of a smile forming on his lips to hear that he’s doing more or less the same as he’d known before. But to venture out? Thorn can’t help the soft laugh that ripples out of him. “Finally spreadin’ your wings. Damien Ulfsen? Who would’a thought?” It’s a gentle tease and a barb, especially from the young man who’d always had dreams of going somewhere else. Of not having to be confined to the harsh climate of Halo for the rest of his life.
So he nods, downing another sip of the glass before he’s snagging a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, plopping one in his mouth before he’s following it up with a lighter to light it. “Yeah, magical rooms.” He confirms with a nod that sends the stream of smoke to grow jagged. “I kinda went on my big adventure to do my architecture thing but found I had more fun bein’ a courtesan. So.” He shrugs a shoulder - sure that Damien would understand how absolutely terrible his father had taken it. “So I work at the House of Midnight. It’s owned by the Frey demigod so it’s rooms are fancy ’n can change to whatever anyone wants.” Which meant he always got to go on an adventure, one way or another, even if he was still confined to the same room.
And for someone who had a penchant of collecting and hearing stories from everyone? It was perhaps the best space for him to be in. To experience the thoughts and dreams other people had and the satisfaction that he has to work in order to see it.
He drags on the cigarette as he glances over at catches the glinting knife and the crowd that cheers their approval before he notes a hulking figure that's arrival has the crowd oohing and ahhing, and he can't hide the little smirk that tugs on his face as he watches the stranger give everyone else in the contest a run for their money.
“Yeah.” Thorn says with a soft little laugh, hoisting the bag up and over his shoulder as they find a space to settle with their drinks, and Thorn takes a healthy sip that has his throat burning comfortably, the lightness of his body coming to the forefront. He doesn’t drink that often, choosing mocktails over cocktails especially when working, and as of late he hasn’t had much downtime at all to actually be able to indulge.
All that to say he’s a fucking lightweight.
He finds a way to focus, though, glancing over at Damien with a twist of a smile forming on his lips to hear that he’s doing more or less the same as he’d known before. But to venture out? Thorn can’t help the soft laugh that ripples out of him. “Finally spreadin’ your wings. Damien Ulfsen? Who would’a thought?” It’s a gentle tease and a barb, especially from the young man who’d always had dreams of going somewhere else. Of not having to be confined to the harsh climate of Halo for the rest of his life.
So he nods, downing another sip of the glass before he’s snagging a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, plopping one in his mouth before he’s following it up with a lighter to light it. “Yeah, magical rooms.” He confirms with a nod that sends the stream of smoke to grow jagged. “I kinda went on my big adventure to do my architecture thing but found I had more fun bein’ a courtesan. So.” He shrugs a shoulder - sure that Damien would understand how absolutely terrible his father had taken it. “So I work at the House of Midnight. It’s owned by the Frey demigod so it’s rooms are fancy ’n can change to whatever anyone wants.” Which meant he always got to go on an adventure, one way or another, even if he was still confined to the same room.
And for someone who had a penchant of collecting and hearing stories from everyone? It was perhaps the best space for him to be in. To experience the thoughts and dreams other people had and the satisfaction that he has to work in order to see it.
He drags on the cigarette as he glances over at catches the glinting knife and the crowd that cheers their approval before he notes a hulking figure that's arrival has the crowd oohing and ahhing, and he can't hide the little smirk that tugs on his face as he watches the stranger give everyone else in the contest a run for their money.
Hawthorn
Won't you let me know?
