this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow
"Mid Deepfrost," Niki answers easily enough, knowing all too well, of course, that they're just about approaching that part of the season. "Though I'll be furious if you get me anything after you provided me with an entire house for movin' to King's End," he tacks on with another waggle of his finger, in case Sunjata gets any ideas. "You can consider me gifted out for the next year at least, thanks to that."
His voice lowers then, and when he speaks it's almost to himself, though certainly loud enough for Sunjata to hear. "That was really kind of you, by the way. Not just settin' me up with somewhere to live, but somewhere so..." He gestures helplessly. Perfect seems disingenuous even if it's true. The place is just very Niki, in a way he'd struggle to articulate even when sober.
Much easier, it seems, to comment on the House of Midnight instead. "Ah, I see," he remarks, raising his eyebrows at the booths and tables and the bar. "I think you've succeeded in that, one way or another. Everyone's havin' fun that I can see."
His voice lowers then, and when he speaks it's almost to himself, though certainly loud enough for Sunjata to hear. "That was really kind of you, by the way. Not just settin' me up with somewhere to live, but somewhere so..." He gestures helplessly. Perfect seems disingenuous even if it's true. The place is just very Niki, in a way he'd struggle to articulate even when sober.
Much easier, it seems, to comment on the House of Midnight instead. "Ah, I see," he remarks, raising his eyebrows at the booths and tables and the bar. "I think you've succeeded in that, one way or another. Everyone's havin' fun that I can see."
Niki
i used to have strength but i ran out of hope
