The problem with the world is that everyone is a few drinks behind
She has spent a lot of her life in a bar. First with her mother when she took all her children and taught them to understand people. Second after their mother’s disappearance, when Weaver could not stop the old habits. Learning to read people had been her childhood, and now it was second nature to read a room. Not that she always got it right, but she usually could sense these sorts of things. It would make her good at her job at the Kraai, even if her brother thought she would be terrible. And the truth was, from the looks of it, she might appear pretty terrible at it. That was sort of the point. You aren’t supposed to realize exactly what she’s up to.
Currently though, she is not up to anything. If she’d wanted to read the letter, she would have. She’d had the opportunity, unsealed as it was, and Sunjata would never have needed to know. No, right now, she is simply giving him space. He would tell her what he wanted her to know when he was ready.
Weaver takes the offered cigarette, taking a long drag and closing her eyes at the enjoyment of it. She rarely manages to get a pack around here, and so they are a luxury she gets to enjoy only occasionally. Exhaling the smoke up toward the ceiling with a slow and deliberate pleasure, she hands the cigarette back. ”We were talking about that, last I saw her. I was telling her about my brother, and how I wonder if he can see us here. What it’s like in the other realm. She thought that perhaps Mort frees the dead from sorrow and pain, but lets them watch over us remembering all the good parts. I hope she was right.” Maea had also suggested that Delphia could tell them how it works, but Weaver isn’t about to bring that up. Besides, maybe it’s better if they don’t know. Maybe it’s better to imagine all the good stuff and not ruin the dream.
Currently though, she is not up to anything. If she’d wanted to read the letter, she would have. She’d had the opportunity, unsealed as it was, and Sunjata would never have needed to know. No, right now, she is simply giving him space. He would tell her what he wanted her to know when he was ready.
Weaver takes the offered cigarette, taking a long drag and closing her eyes at the enjoyment of it. She rarely manages to get a pack around here, and so they are a luxury she gets to enjoy only occasionally. Exhaling the smoke up toward the ceiling with a slow and deliberate pleasure, she hands the cigarette back. ”We were talking about that, last I saw her. I was telling her about my brother, and how I wonder if he can see us here. What it’s like in the other realm. She thought that perhaps Mort frees the dead from sorrow and pain, but lets them watch over us remembering all the good parts. I hope she was right.” Maea had also suggested that Delphia could tell them how it works, but Weaver isn’t about to bring that up. Besides, maybe it’s better if they don’t know. Maybe it’s better to imagine all the good stuff and not ruin the dream.
Weaver
