04-28-2020, 07:04 PM
In that little pocket of silence, Thalia was quite comfortable. The Father drifted at a considerable distance, easing what remained of her trepidation -- and at least she wouldn’t become yet another notch in Nox’s ponderously long list of things to worry about. Though she imagined she was rather top of the list in the things that Father Ando would rather not be thinking about.
When he eventually ushered her to follow she did so blithely enough, though her brow knit at the puzzle of his opening words once in the privacy of the office. "The Holy Father?” Her gaze was led easily to the empty wall he pointed out, but few answers were discovered in the blank, clean square. So it was a job after all, and if all those small, strange little details still did not piece together particularly smoothly, she did not dwell long on the oddness.
Mention of the Vatican directly sent a brief chill through her limbs, but only for what she remembered of Nox’s warnings. It tickled some other memory that didn’t see fit to surface as she turned back to the now sitting priest. "I don't, ah, that is." She frowned in open puzzlement. It would be a prestigious job, not something to be turned down lightly, but it never occurred to her to lie. "Are you sure you have the right artist? I can do a portrait, once my hand has healed, but I don't have one already." She didn't add that she was not sure she even knew what the Pope looked like. "I mean I have a few scribblings with me, if you just want to see my work, but my studio is in Moscow."
When he eventually ushered her to follow she did so blithely enough, though her brow knit at the puzzle of his opening words once in the privacy of the office. "The Holy Father?” Her gaze was led easily to the empty wall he pointed out, but few answers were discovered in the blank, clean square. So it was a job after all, and if all those small, strange little details still did not piece together particularly smoothly, she did not dwell long on the oddness.
Mention of the Vatican directly sent a brief chill through her limbs, but only for what she remembered of Nox’s warnings. It tickled some other memory that didn’t see fit to surface as she turned back to the now sitting priest. "I don't, ah, that is." She frowned in open puzzlement. It would be a prestigious job, not something to be turned down lightly, but it never occurred to her to lie. "Are you sure you have the right artist? I can do a portrait, once my hand has healed, but I don't have one already." She didn't add that she was not sure she even knew what the Pope looked like. "I mean I have a few scribblings with me, if you just want to see my work, but my studio is in Moscow."