KORBIN
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
To make you bow and spit it out?
His grimace could have been the attempt at a smile, a half chuff, sone remnant of amusement. "When they feel like it," he replied, and shrugged. "Sometimes they try to help. Other times you get cursed. Not always easy to tell the difference." There was a seashell sitting in one of his pockets, still dull and colorless. A quest for redemption, för control, for emotional balance and stability... He couldn't quite recall why it had seemed so important now.
Korbin shrugged off the gratitude, just nodded. "No idea. The stars belong to Safrin... maybe she and the other gods go away that night. Maybe she takes them with her. You could ask, maybe she will answer."
A waitor passed, and Korbin waved them down. Emptying the bottle into his glass, his hands had grown steadier, and the burn of alcohol brought relaxation. Not completely, but... talking was made easier. His voice was rough, hoarse from lack of use. It had been so long since he was fit to sing. Since he even felt the urge.
The staff returned with a new bottle and a spare glass, and asked a polite inquirey if the woman would like more to eat. Korbin poured a shot into the new glass and pushed it towards the woman, the amber liquid and food a renewed apology for his lack of hospitality.
"Resources are a bit scarce... we had some trouble earlier in the season," he commented. "This place never thaws, so... hope you don't mind meat."
Korbin shrugged off the gratitude, just nodded. "No idea. The stars belong to Safrin... maybe she and the other gods go away that night. Maybe she takes them with her. You could ask, maybe she will answer."
A waitor passed, and Korbin waved them down. Emptying the bottle into his glass, his hands had grown steadier, and the burn of alcohol brought relaxation. Not completely, but... talking was made easier. His voice was rough, hoarse from lack of use. It had been so long since he was fit to sing. Since he even felt the urge.
The staff returned with a new bottle and a spare glass, and asked a polite inquirey if the woman would like more to eat. Korbin poured a shot into the new glass and pushed it towards the woman, the amber liquid and food a renewed apology for his lack of hospitality.
"Resources are a bit scarce... we had some trouble earlier in the season," he commented. "This place never thaws, so... hope you don't mind meat."
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Nothing makes you turn around
