KORBIN
at least I know how I can make you
laugh like no one else
laugh like no one else
Nothing new, and honestly nothing he grieved about. It was nice to know that no new faces would be turning up, that no surprises waited for them oh, if only that were true and that life would settle back into something that resembled what he thought of as normal. Deepfrost was a much needed reprieve from the rest of the world, and while she might mourn the lack of contact with the rest of Caido... he did not.
"Ah, makes sense," he murmured, nodding. She would enjoy talking to other abandoned. That was a part of her life he could do nothing to help with, sad as that was. Too bad that the Academy was run by an outlander, or he might be far happier about its existence.
Her comment on the first drink made Korbin short with amusement. "Alright, good point. What would you call it, then? What comes to mind when you drink it?" He tilted his head, waiting for something to work with. Creativity was good and well, but a blank canvas was sometimes really boring. Her comment about the other drink made him raise a quiet brow, but Korbin didn't ask what she meant. Was fairly sure he didn't want to know.
"I met a guy last season, who knew your Maea," he explained, watching her face carefully. Not sure how much the subject might hurt her. "He said they were family, but he doesn't know how she died, and the woman who posted the note in the Grounds apparently won't tell him. Something about being a daughter of Mort, and disliking Ascended." Korbin scratched his chin, regarding Weaver. "Do you know anything about it? Could you tell me, so he can get some closure?"
That was largely the reason why Korbin had offered to help in the first place. He knew Weaver would understand; the pain of not knowing the fate of a loved one was the worst kind, and not to be wished on anyone.
"Ah, makes sense," he murmured, nodding. She would enjoy talking to other abandoned. That was a part of her life he could do nothing to help with, sad as that was. Too bad that the Academy was run by an outlander, or he might be far happier about its existence.
Her comment on the first drink made Korbin short with amusement. "Alright, good point. What would you call it, then? What comes to mind when you drink it?" He tilted his head, waiting for something to work with. Creativity was good and well, but a blank canvas was sometimes really boring. Her comment about the other drink made him raise a quiet brow, but Korbin didn't ask what she meant. Was fairly sure he didn't want to know.
"I met a guy last season, who knew your Maea," he explained, watching her face carefully. Not sure how much the subject might hurt her. "He said they were family, but he doesn't know how she died, and the woman who posted the note in the Grounds apparently won't tell him. Something about being a daughter of Mort, and disliking Ascended." Korbin scratched his chin, regarding Weaver. "Do you know anything about it? Could you tell me, so he can get some closure?"
That was largely the reason why Korbin had offered to help in the first place. He knew Weaver would understand; the pain of not knowing the fate of a loved one was the worst kind, and not to be wished on anyone.
Oh I'm such a mess
But at least I've always been myself
But at least I've always been myself
