She joins him, taking a long sip of her drink with a wink to Loren. ”I crave connection,” she says, drawing out the phrase, making it dramatic in a very Weaver-like way. It is clear that by connection she does not necessarily mean commitment. They were two very different things, and while she was not against commitment, if the bug bit, it was not something she sought. It was hard to put into words exactly what more was; rather, she always knew it when she found it. ”I am not just your distraction, though.” Because that was not something more. She wasn’t going to be just a warm body to him. She wanted to be the face he saw when he was with her; wanted to be something worth coming back for for herself and not because she was convenient. After all, Weaver was anything but convenient.
His past interests her, and it takes all of the self restraint she happens to have from simply asking him to explain it all. It’s clear it hurts, the darkness around the edges of it visible, tangible almost. And while she has very little self restraint, she has just enough not to always be an outright ass. ”I do think I am willing to stick around for these surprises. Though tell me, did you really sleep on rocks, or were they just lumpy mattresses?” she teases, wondering what the Launcelyn compound was actually like. For that matter, how many of them had there been? Her family had been around a while, and they had a house. A decent sized one, for Halo, though not large by any means. But a compound?
She laughs, loudly, amused by his sarcasm. ”No, never. We are very outstanding, honest citizens all the time.” Though they were probably more open than the fae. Honestly she had few secrets, but she would reserve information. She wasn’t leading anyone to a dragon if she didn’t think they could handle it. She wasn’t bringing anyone to Halo’s underground unless she thought they were trustworthy. But of course, who doesn’t have a few secrets?
”Not quite the same values you will find in Caido,” she muses. Not that they didn’t value power, but magic? That was a funny subject here. What they were, Abandoned, was a thing to be frowned upon. It meant disdain from the Gods and none of their favor. It meant power, yes, but at a disadvantage. Not that the Attunded lacked magic, or the fae, or the demi-gods. There was magic. But not the kind they had, not exactly. She tries not to dwell on it, but the thought makes her bitter anyway.
”There is only so much loss someone….I...can tolerate.” She understands that train of thought, and for a moment she sits in silence, fingers twined together, nearly close enough to kiss and yet without doing so, though the thought crosses her mind. ”I have a feeling, Loren, that you are stronger than you give yourself credit for.” That was often the difference between people, not their actual strength but their perceived strength. There’s some truth to the whole “if you think you can” mantra.
She leans back slightly, wondering what to tell of her childhood. ”It was kind of what you’d expect, honestly. It was cold and hard and we grow used to death here at a really young age. If it’s not your immediate family it’s your neighbor or your friend. But at the same time, it’s not a bad place to grow up. We are a small place, and everyone helps one another. I had two brothers and a street of local kids and we’d play in the snow when the wind wouldn’t freeze your nose off your face. We fought and we trained and we lived like kids, despite all the things that could go wrong.” She smiles slightly, nostalgic. Life had been so good here, and in many ways it still was, just different, and she wouldn’t say she didn’t miss the way it had been. ”I’d be a kid all over again if I could. How about you?” It’s a somewhat generic question, giving him space to share what he wanted. She knows she’s dancing on a topic that may be best left alone, but she is so so curious.
He admits a dream, of sorts, and her gaze softens just a bit as she takes another sip of her drink, listening to him. ”Would it be so bad to make that choice if, before you have to make it, you had a life you loved and a collection of wonderful memories? Because that doesn’t sound like a bad life.”
His past interests her, and it takes all of the self restraint she happens to have from simply asking him to explain it all. It’s clear it hurts, the darkness around the edges of it visible, tangible almost. And while she has very little self restraint, she has just enough not to always be an outright ass. ”I do think I am willing to stick around for these surprises. Though tell me, did you really sleep on rocks, or were they just lumpy mattresses?” she teases, wondering what the Launcelyn compound was actually like. For that matter, how many of them had there been? Her family had been around a while, and they had a house. A decent sized one, for Halo, though not large by any means. But a compound?
She laughs, loudly, amused by his sarcasm. ”No, never. We are very outstanding, honest citizens all the time.” Though they were probably more open than the fae. Honestly she had few secrets, but she would reserve information. She wasn’t leading anyone to a dragon if she didn’t think they could handle it. She wasn’t bringing anyone to Halo’s underground unless she thought they were trustworthy. But of course, who doesn’t have a few secrets?
”Not quite the same values you will find in Caido,” she muses. Not that they didn’t value power, but magic? That was a funny subject here. What they were, Abandoned, was a thing to be frowned upon. It meant disdain from the Gods and none of their favor. It meant power, yes, but at a disadvantage. Not that the Attunded lacked magic, or the fae, or the demi-gods. There was magic. But not the kind they had, not exactly. She tries not to dwell on it, but the thought makes her bitter anyway.
”There is only so much loss someone….I...can tolerate.” She understands that train of thought, and for a moment she sits in silence, fingers twined together, nearly close enough to kiss and yet without doing so, though the thought crosses her mind. ”I have a feeling, Loren, that you are stronger than you give yourself credit for.” That was often the difference between people, not their actual strength but their perceived strength. There’s some truth to the whole “if you think you can” mantra.
She leans back slightly, wondering what to tell of her childhood. ”It was kind of what you’d expect, honestly. It was cold and hard and we grow used to death here at a really young age. If it’s not your immediate family it’s your neighbor or your friend. But at the same time, it’s not a bad place to grow up. We are a small place, and everyone helps one another. I had two brothers and a street of local kids and we’d play in the snow when the wind wouldn’t freeze your nose off your face. We fought and we trained and we lived like kids, despite all the things that could go wrong.” She smiles slightly, nostalgic. Life had been so good here, and in many ways it still was, just different, and she wouldn’t say she didn’t miss the way it had been. ”I’d be a kid all over again if I could. How about you?” It’s a somewhat generic question, giving him space to share what he wanted. She knows she’s dancing on a topic that may be best left alone, but she is so so curious.
He admits a dream, of sorts, and her gaze softens just a bit as she takes another sip of her drink, listening to him. ”Would it be so bad to make that choice if, before you have to make it, you had a life you loved and a collection of wonderful memories? Because that doesn’t sound like a bad life.”
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
