NATE
There is absolutely something no there, but whether it’s a secret Anden wants seeking or something else, Nate can’t say. He devotes a moment to consideration, then hums. ”If nothing ever becomes soemthing, you let me know then, huh?” He won’t press it, but he will make this offer.
Mismatched eyes move over the others patchwork jacket, obviously well loved, Nate’s thumb comes up to rub at the collar of his own jacket, soft black leather, a comfort he’d apparently forgotten until Anden brought it back to the forefront of his mind. ”I might be a lot of things, but a hypocrite isn’t one of them.” He jokes, mostly truthfully.
”Longnight is all about location.” Nate spreads his arms, glass still in hand, lantern forgotten for the moment. ”Here in the Grounds? It’s a week of hell. But back home, in Torchline?” He leans back in his chair with a grin, arms folding across his chest. ”Its a week of parties. Just don’t piss off the pirate king.” A laugh leaves him, but there’s just enough seriousness to his words that it seems like a sincere warning.
”Do you challenge everything people say to you, or is that a special deal just for me?” More laughter follows this tease, the obviously rhetorical question. ”If you’re busy the whole time I’m here, you’ll just have to come to me, won’t you?” A brow rises in Anden’s direction, Nate’s smirk warming into something closer to an actual smile.
Nate’s head tips back and forth, considering the bottle, and their empty glasses. ”I don’t see anything wrong with finishing off the bottle.” He had a system that kept him from going through too much of anything, when the stubborn urge to feel the sharp burn of a drink, or the roughness of a smoke.
Mismatched eyes move over the others patchwork jacket, obviously well loved, Nate’s thumb comes up to rub at the collar of his own jacket, soft black leather, a comfort he’d apparently forgotten until Anden brought it back to the forefront of his mind. ”I might be a lot of things, but a hypocrite isn’t one of them.” He jokes, mostly truthfully.
”Longnight is all about location.” Nate spreads his arms, glass still in hand, lantern forgotten for the moment. ”Here in the Grounds? It’s a week of hell. But back home, in Torchline?” He leans back in his chair with a grin, arms folding across his chest. ”Its a week of parties. Just don’t piss off the pirate king.” A laugh leaves him, but there’s just enough seriousness to his words that it seems like a sincere warning.
”Do you challenge everything people say to you, or is that a special deal just for me?” More laughter follows this tease, the obviously rhetorical question. ”If you’re busy the whole time I’m here, you’ll just have to come to me, won’t you?” A brow rises in Anden’s direction, Nate’s smirk warming into something closer to an actual smile.
Nate’s head tips back and forth, considering the bottle, and their empty glasses. ”I don’t see anything wrong with finishing off the bottle.” He had a system that kept him from going through too much of anything, when the stubborn urge to feel the sharp burn of a drink, or the roughness of a smoke.
Like a bullet through a flock of doves
To wage this war against your faith in me
To wage this war against your faith in me
