some nights feel like every night
Ah, as if the Orator ever really pours his heart out. Falke grins a little to himself in the dark. For someone whose job was to talk, the man rarely revealed much about himself, and the Fixer secretly enjoys that particular irony.
Still, the comment piques his interest, and not just in an occupational way. “Not too keen on the outside world, then?” he asks casually, taking a slow hit after the question. Holding the substance in his lungs, he waits to see if the Orator will bite, exhaling after a few counts in a far less dramatic stream of smoke. He isn’t a fancy ring kind of guy. He’s a nodding along kind of guy, a listener, a staring at the clouds or stars or sprouting plants kind of guy.
And these strangers - well, they might not stay strangers. “Any of them pan out?”
Still, the comment piques his interest, and not just in an occupational way. “Not too keen on the outside world, then?” he asks casually, taking a slow hit after the question. Holding the substance in his lungs, he waits to see if the Orator will bite, exhaling after a few counts in a far less dramatic stream of smoke. He isn’t a fancy ring kind of guy. He’s a nodding along kind of guy, a listener, a staring at the clouds or stars or sprouting plants kind of guy.
And these strangers - well, they might not stay strangers. “Any of them pan out?”
this one feels brand new
got good things on my mind when I'm with you
FALKE
