I got sunshine on a cloudy day

Did she mean fantastic? Probably not, but that was the nature of their relationship. Wessex snorts. “I probably meant ragged, but sure, let’s go with fantastic,” the demi-god teases right back, accepting his compliment without a word. Compliments are hard, especially when they’re looks-based. It’s never been something she’s been confident about. But Amun isn’t wrong - the ability to wander and be nomadic does suit her and her independence nicely.   Wessex follows Amun’s lead on looking interested in the wares, feigning interest in favor of a silent conversation. She did say that, didn’t She? Also told us that it might take a little more work to spread her influence here. We should probably begin to make ourselves useful. Drifting off, the implication is there. Make themselves useful to... whomever that might be. Same with Halo - personally, the Wraith is more partial to working in Halo, but that’s a whole other story. Coming back to the person in front of them, who is starting to become righteously idignant about the insult to his wares, she makes a face much like Amun’s sniff and shakes her head. “I wouldn’t buy anything from someone who tried to sell me shit in the first place. This is probably terrible too.” With a nudge of her elbow, she tosses her head up in the perfect imitation of a haughty Zariah and pivots on her heels. Alas, there would be no haggling today. Instead, the man (it seems like Torchers have a temper) reaches into the first display and hurls a large clam shell at Wessex’s back. It hits her with a thud, as he hisses, “Fucking foreign bitches.” WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm