Orb, Day 2 of the Great Heat's Beginning

[warewolf]

[Kay looks tired. His injuries haven't fully healed yet -- there are some bandages visible above the neckline of the tunic he's wearing. It looks like he's done his best to hide them, but not quite succeeded.]

So, uh...I've got this horse, and...does anybody want it? I mean, I'm not going to do anything with it. I can't freaking ride a horse. So it might as well go to someone who can, right?

I can get around just fine without it, and I don't have a clue how to take care of the damn thing. Someone take it off my hands already. Same with this sword thing.

[He holds it up, turning it back and forth in the light, looking at it.]

I don't need it. I don't even know if it's any good. But if I keep it, it's not gonna kill anything but dust bunnies, because it's not coming out from under the bed, you know what I mean?

Any takers? I'll trade you something for them.

Comments

[warewolf]

Oh. Oh, I see.

[Kay's familiar with the idea of getting visions of the future/other people/other places. He's able to do it himself, a little. The idea of someone else here able to do it makes him a little nervous. He knows how invasive prophetic visions can be.]

Is that something all sages can do, or is this guy just unique?

[fairweather]

I can't speak for all the sages around here and how good they are, but I do believe he's one of the best. Spent much of his life in books deciphering prophesies and things like that.

[warewolf]

[...what a boring life, Kay thinks. To spend your whole life reading books and prophecies instead of living life yourself.]

Right. So, you're offering money and maybe a couple of prophecies?

[fairweather]

[He would be right. The life of a Watcher, quite dull. That was one reason she ran from it. Along with the lifetime of trauma, horror, and Latin.]

That is correct.

[warewolf]

You mind if I think about it for a while?

[He wants to see what other people have to offer before he decides.]

[fairweather]

Of course, take your time, dear.

[warewolf]

Thanks.

[He rolls his shoulders, stretching out his arms. The silence is threatening to turn awkward.]

So, what do you think of this place?

[fairweather]

Me?

[Lavinia turns and gives a slight smile. It's certainly not London, but London had been many things over the years.]

It's quaint and charming, I suppose. A little on the rustic side. I do miss the nightlife, it can get so dreadfully boring here. Conversation can be so dull too. It's certainly not London. Or Paris.