10-29-2024, 09:39 PM
She let them fill in the blanks left by her gesture. Nesrin had her own opinions of course, but she wanted to hear theirs. She cared less about supposed divinity than the sorts of interesting secrets a cult like the Brotherhood might hide, but none of the three here were likely to be useful to that end – they seemed too honest, too incurious. How she was going to discover if the Brotherhood had anything worth knowing was a detail she wasn’t sure of yet. Which circled her back to what Zigzag had said about hosts and worship.
“Dead gods. That’s an interesting way of putting it.” Her chin sank onto her fist. She faded into scholarly thoughtfulness.
She was actually surprised by the kindness that followed. In her experience people were usually… well, not so free with that kind of help, at least not without a catch. But Elyse had nothing to gain in it – or nothing Nesrin could easily discern. She didn’t stop the surprise from rippling across her expression, nor the faint delight she felt glow inside at the concern. It wasn’t something she was used to, at least not honestly come by. The coffee spill had not been accidental after all, but not because she’d been angling to take that kind of liberty.
“You’re not prying. I appreciate it, actually. But I’ll be okay, I’m resourceful.” Losing her rental was the truth, if it was a necessity and not the bad luck she implied. The Emissary would know about it by now, so she had to cut it loose – same as her student persona. Nesrin Aziz, as she currently existed, had to disappear – at least until one of her contingencies paid off. But if she manipulated those around her without much conscience, especially when it came to her own survival, she didn’t do it in a way likely to come back and bite her. She didn’t need generosity, and she wouldn’t take undue advantage (at least not from people she liked). But what she did need right now was some place to hide.
She quashed the urge to glance at the camera. Wicked had been among the first to place a bid on the Key. Who exactly might be interested in such a “momento” was exactly why she’d ignored Zigzag’s warnings and started the auction (he probably considered that a betrayal, even though it was a liberation from whatever punishment he feared the Emissary would have metered out for his silence). And while she remembered the way Wicked grabbed her hand and led her out of the fray at Nox’s house party, she wasn’t the sort to put all her eggs in one basket. If she was that way inclined, she would have just given the Key over to the Asquiths.
“I could always use more work, though. I mostly do waitressing at the moment. But I’ve done all sorts in the past.” She laughed a little, and there was a mischievous glint to her expression. Nesrin certainly had stories, not all of them true. “Have you ever heard of ghawazi?”
“Dead gods. That’s an interesting way of putting it.” Her chin sank onto her fist. She faded into scholarly thoughtfulness.
She was actually surprised by the kindness that followed. In her experience people were usually… well, not so free with that kind of help, at least not without a catch. But Elyse had nothing to gain in it – or nothing Nesrin could easily discern. She didn’t stop the surprise from rippling across her expression, nor the faint delight she felt glow inside at the concern. It wasn’t something she was used to, at least not honestly come by. The coffee spill had not been accidental after all, but not because she’d been angling to take that kind of liberty.
“You’re not prying. I appreciate it, actually. But I’ll be okay, I’m resourceful.” Losing her rental was the truth, if it was a necessity and not the bad luck she implied. The Emissary would know about it by now, so she had to cut it loose – same as her student persona. Nesrin Aziz, as she currently existed, had to disappear – at least until one of her contingencies paid off. But if she manipulated those around her without much conscience, especially when it came to her own survival, she didn’t do it in a way likely to come back and bite her. She didn’t need generosity, and she wouldn’t take undue advantage (at least not from people she liked). But what she did need right now was some place to hide.
She quashed the urge to glance at the camera. Wicked had been among the first to place a bid on the Key. Who exactly might be interested in such a “momento” was exactly why she’d ignored Zigzag’s warnings and started the auction (he probably considered that a betrayal, even though it was a liberation from whatever punishment he feared the Emissary would have metered out for his silence). And while she remembered the way Wicked grabbed her hand and led her out of the fray at Nox’s house party, she wasn’t the sort to put all her eggs in one basket. If she was that way inclined, she would have just given the Key over to the Asquiths.
“I could always use more work, though. I mostly do waitressing at the moment. But I’ve done all sorts in the past.” She laughed a little, and there was a mischievous glint to her expression. Nesrin certainly had stories, not all of them true. “Have you ever heard of ghawazi?”