Case nods, accepting the explanation, and if her little heart's broken for him she doesn't show it. "Do you regret any of it?"
"Only trusting a bunch of murderers, but then again these days I put my trust in thieves, which is only a half step up at best. The killin' weren't so bad, really. No picnic, but not horrible. It's the sight of it that sticks. I'm a bad man, but not a monster, and a monster's what you need to be to sleep sweet and sound after seeing the things you do in that line of work."
She nods again. "Fair enough. And fair being fair: I lost my sight to my younger sister. Nothing as overly dramatic as any sort of cloak-and-dagger family intrigue, either." Case shrugs nonchalantly. "She's an apprentice mage now, and a good one, but once she was a novice, as they all are at some point. I had a stupid accident with backhoe in the garden," she explains, laughing self-deprecatingly and pointing to the pale scar across the bridge of her nose, which in the way of hushed rumor among bored guildmates has often been assumed the work of some sadistic bandit. "She tried to heal it, and, well, the spell just went all wrong. She cried for days, and I didn't talk to her for weeks. But of course she never meant any harm. It took me a while, sitting at my desk, touching my paint pots and brushes and hating my luck, my life, and my sister. But I forgave her."
"You still talk to her?"
"We exchange letters from time to time, talk about life. Dragons, parties, thieving, politics. She keeps me apprised of her schooling."
"Oh yeah? What's she specializing in?"
"Restoration."
The mirrored smiles spread slow across both their faces, and they just grin stupidly for a moment, the laughter beginning as a slow, bubbling chuckle in both their chests before it rises to an uproarious level, echoing back and forth across the empty sewer. Soon enough, they're feeling well enough for another toast. "To the gods; ain't got a single fuckin' idear what they're doin', eh?"
-----
Got some yard work to do before I head off to work again. Stay tuned, folks!
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timeasmymeasure
Poor Judgment, (6/?)
Date: 2012-11-01 06:35 pm (UTC)"Only trusting a bunch of murderers, but then again these days I put my trust in thieves, which is only a half step up at best. The killin' weren't so bad, really. No picnic, but not horrible. It's the sight of it that sticks. I'm a bad man, but not a monster, and a monster's what you need to be to sleep sweet and sound after seeing the things you do in that line of work."
She nods again. "Fair enough. And fair being fair: I lost my sight to my younger sister. Nothing as overly dramatic as any sort of cloak-and-dagger family intrigue, either." Case shrugs nonchalantly. "She's an apprentice mage now, and a good one, but once she was a novice, as they all are at some point. I had a stupid accident with backhoe in the garden," she explains, laughing self-deprecatingly and pointing to the pale scar across the bridge of her nose, which in the way of hushed rumor among bored guildmates has often been assumed the work of some sadistic bandit. "She tried to heal it, and, well, the spell just went all wrong. She cried for days, and I didn't talk to her for weeks. But of course she never meant any harm. It took me a while, sitting at my desk, touching my paint pots and brushes and hating my luck, my life, and my sister. But I forgave her."
"You still talk to her?"
"We exchange letters from time to time, talk about life. Dragons, parties, thieving, politics. She keeps me apprised of her schooling."
"Oh yeah? What's she specializing in?"
"Restoration."
The mirrored smiles spread slow across both their faces, and they just grin stupidly for a moment, the laughter beginning as a slow, bubbling chuckle in both their chests before it rises to an uproarious level, echoing back and forth across the empty sewer. Soon enough, they're feeling well enough for another toast. "To the gods; ain't got a single fuckin' idear what they're doin', eh?"
-----
Got some yard work to do before I head off to work again. Stay tuned, folks!