the hailstorm
Neron’s visitors usually knocked these days. The fact that he got visitors at all was sort of nice, he supposed, but it wasn’t usually preceded by his door flying open. Arching an eyebrow, the Ascended glanced up from where he had been reading in the dark (no need to waste torches or candles when he could see regardless) and tilted his head, recognising the man who had knocked the door open. Korbin didn’t seem the type to barge in and make a fuss, so he believed it when the man slurred about it being an accident.
”Don’t worry about it,” he said, arching an eyebrow and spotting the glimmer of rusty blood on his chin. ”Get into some trouble, Korbin?” he asked, leaning over to light a candle (and being incredibly careful not to get too close to it, for that matter). ”You’re a long ways away from the main meeting places.”
”Don’t worry about it,” he said, arching an eyebrow and spotting the glimmer of rusty blood on his chin. ”Get into some trouble, Korbin?” he asked, leaning over to light a candle (and being incredibly careful not to get too close to it, for that matter). ”You’re a long ways away from the main meeting places.”
