The weakness we left behind
seems to be getting stronger
Nate just sort of shrugs. "Caido is a weird place," he offers. He has never been very good at sympathy. Anyway — he feels clueless most of the time, himself. The trick is in ignoring the shit he doesn't like to think about too hard.
He's just about ready to lead the way to the guild when the stranger trips him up, and Nate cocks a confused eye back at him. "Oh," he says. "The gift thing. A friend of mine was doing that." Suddenly he stops, his expression becoming shrewd, and he leans in slightly. "Your name's not Peter, is it?" And if it was? Nate would have absolutely no use for this information, save a face to put to the name. Fortunately for Oliver, of course, Nathaniel no more knows the identities of those involved in the artist's guild than he has interest in ruining the secrecy of the exchange. He doesn't much understand the point, except it is some kind of Fiat Lux happiness thing. Fiat Lux was never his favorite holiday.
But maybe it is in the spirit of the season to help this stranger out. Nathaniel blinks, expressionless, through the plea for help. Accepting the offer would probably be about as useful as allowing Adam to room with him had been, but — he does miss Adam just a little, doesn't he? It was interesting, in its own way. And this particular Outlander is more appealing than Adam was at first impression.
Well, Nate doesn't have plans for the rest of the day, anyway.
He rubs his chin, a few days' worth unshaven stubble rough against his palm. "I guess," he says, unwilling to sound too helpful. "I might have some old canvas at home. I don't know about paint." For some reason, he thinks about asking Amalia, but he hasn't seen her in so long. Maybe it's best to hope someone in the market has pigment.
He's just about ready to lead the way to the guild when the stranger trips him up, and Nate cocks a confused eye back at him. "Oh," he says. "The gift thing. A friend of mine was doing that." Suddenly he stops, his expression becoming shrewd, and he leans in slightly. "Your name's not Peter, is it?" And if it was? Nate would have absolutely no use for this information, save a face to put to the name. Fortunately for Oliver, of course, Nathaniel no more knows the identities of those involved in the artist's guild than he has interest in ruining the secrecy of the exchange. He doesn't much understand the point, except it is some kind of Fiat Lux happiness thing. Fiat Lux was never his favorite holiday.
But maybe it is in the spirit of the season to help this stranger out. Nathaniel blinks, expressionless, through the plea for help. Accepting the offer would probably be about as useful as allowing Adam to room with him had been, but — he does miss Adam just a little, doesn't he? It was interesting, in its own way. And this particular Outlander is more appealing than Adam was at first impression.
Well, Nate doesn't have plans for the rest of the day, anyway.
He rubs his chin, a few days' worth unshaven stubble rough against his palm. "I guess," he says, unwilling to sound too helpful. "I might have some old canvas at home. I don't know about paint." For some reason, he thinks about asking Amalia, but he hasn't seen her in so long. Maybe it's best to hope someone in the market has pigment.
