12-14-2021, 02:18 AM
Seven held the gaze of his dinner-mate, searching for what mysterious thought might possibly surprise him next. The steam of gumbo wafted tentalizing scents, but it was an ice-cold shell of oysters that Seven put to his mouth. He would always navigate to seafood. His mother said his blood must be salty, so connected to the water he was. But it was a graze of their hands that caused him to smile and use a napkin to wipe away the wetness from his lips.
“Yet alas, there are no thrones left to inherit,” he said, more aware than ever of an accent he long ago gave up trying to suppress. It was strange that only after he adopted the name of Seven did he become more comfortable in his own skin than ever before.
“This thing,” he waggled his fingers before taking off the ring and placing it on the table for Z’s inspection, “was a jewel of a find in a vintage store,” he said, knowing perfectly well that some people would call his story for bullshit, but Seven didn’t care. The ring was easily google-able; the family it represented easily identified. Proving that Seven was one of them would be harder, and most didn’t care to put out the effort anyway. Seven rarely stayed in one place long enough for anyone to try.
“Yet alas, there are no thrones left to inherit,” he said, more aware than ever of an accent he long ago gave up trying to suppress. It was strange that only after he adopted the name of Seven did he become more comfortable in his own skin than ever before.
“This thing,” he waggled his fingers before taking off the ring and placing it on the table for Z’s inspection, “was a jewel of a find in a vintage store,” he said, knowing perfectly well that some people would call his story for bullshit, but Seven didn’t care. The ring was easily google-able; the family it represented easily identified. Proving that Seven was one of them would be harder, and most didn’t care to put out the effort anyway. Seven rarely stayed in one place long enough for anyone to try.