Aurelia
She can't say much on who the Oracle is or was, so she doesn't. Better not to speak on matters one doesn't know too much about. They both know what it foretold, though, so... that's all they could go with. It could've been lying, pulling everyone's chain, forcing people to draw divisive lines and create a war themselves, but... that's a bit much of a conspiracy - even for Aurelia, so she only entertains the thought for a short while.
As for Nate and biting and all of that good or bad(?) shit, she can only offer him an amused grin, nodding when he mentions being a masochist. She remembers first meeting Locke, how it had gone, how their friendship had formed in the first place. It seems like such a long time ago, though... which draws her back to sipping from her glass.
She listens intently as he describes his plans, nodding with some approval about it all. "Yeah, just make sure you're convincing. That's all you gotta do; play the part he wants," she offers by way of advice. As for the shrine... "I didn't witness it, per se... but I know he did it - or he had something to do with it - because... well, because I showed him where it was. He was looking for it in order to destroy it. Told me himself and, at the time, I promised I wouldn't tell. This was back when I'd very first arrived. I didn't know anything about anything." And Gideon had easily taken advantage of that, at the time, "And, lo and behold, it was destroyed not long after that." Didn't take a genius to connect those dots; a caveman could do it.
He talks about fear, how it fucks people up so much more than the thing itself, and she reflects darkly on that. Staring into her empty glass, she almost doesn't here him "ask" for a cigarette. It takes a few moments for her ears to register what he's said before she's offering him one, meanwhile putting out the butt of her own. "Hand the bottle over," she says, keeping her hand held out to exchange the cigarette for the bottle - so she might take a generous swig of it.
Aurelia shrugs at the idea that it was all Locke's fault. At another time, another place, she might've been liable to blame him for it too. But then... "Maeve has her own issues. Neither of you are perfect. What matters is that you came back." Something she can understand personally, especially when it came to relationships.
When Locke seeks out her gaze, she peers back at him, surprise slowly unfolding in her facial features as her brows lift and her lips part. But words don't come to fruition, not immediately. Then, she smirks, and soon after a chuckle follows his sentimental words. "Ah, don't start gettin' soft on me, Mr. Masochist," she accuses roughly, but there's a flash of something in her gaze. Gratitude? A reflection of his own emotion? "I appreciate ya," she murmurs quietly. And if he had given her the bottle, she'll offer it back now.
"So when are we gonna have a rematch? S'been a while since I kicked your ass. Too long." She grins slyly at him, an attempt at goading him.
As for Nate and biting and all of that good or bad(?) shit, she can only offer him an amused grin, nodding when he mentions being a masochist. She remembers first meeting Locke, how it had gone, how their friendship had formed in the first place. It seems like such a long time ago, though... which draws her back to sipping from her glass.
She listens intently as he describes his plans, nodding with some approval about it all. "Yeah, just make sure you're convincing. That's all you gotta do; play the part he wants," she offers by way of advice. As for the shrine... "I didn't witness it, per se... but I know he did it - or he had something to do with it - because... well, because I showed him where it was. He was looking for it in order to destroy it. Told me himself and, at the time, I promised I wouldn't tell. This was back when I'd very first arrived. I didn't know anything about anything." And Gideon had easily taken advantage of that, at the time, "And, lo and behold, it was destroyed not long after that." Didn't take a genius to connect those dots; a caveman could do it.
He talks about fear, how it fucks people up so much more than the thing itself, and she reflects darkly on that. Staring into her empty glass, she almost doesn't here him "ask" for a cigarette. It takes a few moments for her ears to register what he's said before she's offering him one, meanwhile putting out the butt of her own. "Hand the bottle over," she says, keeping her hand held out to exchange the cigarette for the bottle - so she might take a generous swig of it.
Aurelia shrugs at the idea that it was all Locke's fault. At another time, another place, she might've been liable to blame him for it too. But then... "Maeve has her own issues. Neither of you are perfect. What matters is that you came back." Something she can understand personally, especially when it came to relationships.
When Locke seeks out her gaze, she peers back at him, surprise slowly unfolding in her facial features as her brows lift and her lips part. But words don't come to fruition, not immediately. Then, she smirks, and soon after a chuckle follows his sentimental words. "Ah, don't start gettin' soft on me, Mr. Masochist," she accuses roughly, but there's a flash of something in her gaze. Gratitude? A reflection of his own emotion? "I appreciate ya," she murmurs quietly. And if he had given her the bottle, she'll offer it back now.
"So when are we gonna have a rematch? S'been a while since I kicked your ass. Too long." She grins slyly at him, an attempt at goading him.
looking in the mirror, drop of rum on my tongue
with the warning to help me see myself clearer
with the warning to help me see myself clearer
