as I hold my soul all the music pours out
It isn’t at all what the Fixer expected, but in a way he’s glad to be surprised. And feels, perhaps, a little foolish for not thinking of that perspective earlier. He is noticeably contemplative now, nodding a little absently as he digests this newfound information. “I’d never thought of my work that way,” the man says slowly as he absently twists his own Order-Accepted ring.
It’s an honor to hold the kindly god’s affection - he knows this full well - and the younger man is certainly glad of it. But (there’s always a however, isn’t there?) it prompts more questions. “Is it insulting to have a greater affinity for the other Gods, then? Or foolish?” The fixer doesn’t ask for much, not really, and he would hate to seem like he’s pandering for affection. But he also doesn’t want to insult Mort, since as the Priest put it, connections are rare.
And always aware of others, Falke holds up a hand. “Last question, I promise. I’ll let you get to bed soon.”
It’s an honor to hold the kindly god’s affection - he knows this full well - and the younger man is certainly glad of it. But (there’s always a however, isn’t there?) it prompts more questions. “Is it insulting to have a greater affinity for the other Gods, then? Or foolish?” The fixer doesn’t ask for much, not really, and he would hate to seem like he’s pandering for affection. But he also doesn’t want to insult Mort, since as the Priest put it, connections are rare.
And always aware of others, Falke holds up a hand. “Last question, I promise. I’ll let you get to bed soon.”
THE 'FIXER'
the greatest fear I've ever kept is dying with regrets
