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Honestly, Magnus usually preferred to not see people get injured, considering half the time it just led to even more work for him. While he usually was quite a workaholic and he was sure Leto would attest to that, at the moment the Master Informer had his plate quite full, and this blasted storm wasn't helping matters.
He had reacted in instinct to knock the foreigner out of the way before he got behaded by a pole, a sad way to go for sure. But the dark-haired spy had not expected to get an embrace in return.... or if that's what you would call the bearhug he got as they rolled to the side, both like spring rolls and being covered in mud, rain, dirt and whatever it was on the ground in the process.
Magnus had instinctively shut his eyes as they moved, not at all eager to feel that stinging pain that came when foreign objects got lodged in one's irises. By the time they stopped moving and the man felt safe to reopen his eyes, it was only then did the Master Informer notice the man to be in posession of not only bright green eyes, but a body far larger then he'd usually see on a man who did not have military background. Or maybe he did? Who was he to judge on first glance.
The close proximity however, meant that Magnus could also take in the high cheek bones, sharp nose and broad shoulders. Yet something about the man screamed himself to be a foreigner, and with all the checks Magnus had been doing, he was definitely not one he remembered being recorded consistently.
Frowning as the man scrambled away, Magnus too got off the other as quick as he could, the position in no way comfortable for two men to be in. The quickly murmured formal thank you was almost a confirmation for Magnus that this was no ordinary foreigner, and he couldn't help but let his own eyes follow the other in curiosity. Such was his mind, and had always been as a child. It was why he had become who he was today, for Magnus never left any question unanswered, or risk losing sleep. His gaze following Khanh's meant he saw the man helping Myrrine and another woman with red hair the kind that made Magnus immediately assume she had people not of Greece in her family history. While he could've went to help, the man quickly saw the other's to be in safe hands.
Leaving them to that, his attention was diverted when he heard yet another loud crack, for his eyes to fall upon the clothed up man (he assumed), kicking at more wooden pieces from an already-ruined cart. Watching as the man seem to struggle with breaking free pieces, Magnus dusted off the drit as best as he could, before scurrying over to take hold of the pieces of wood he already had in his posession so he could free Akhmad's hand to go and work on yet another.
Turning down however to look at them, Magnus couldn't help but frown at the number, and then back at the man. "Why do you need so many planks of wood for?" Surely if they were foreigners staying in an inn, they wouldn't need any such wood?
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Honestly, Magnus usually preferred to not see people get injured, considering half the time it just led to even more work for him. While he usually was quite a workaholic and he was sure Leto would attest to that, at the moment the Master Informer had his plate quite full, and this blasted storm wasn't helping matters.
He had reacted in instinct to knock the foreigner out of the way before he got behaded by a pole, a sad way to go for sure. But the dark-haired spy had not expected to get an embrace in return.... or if that's what you would call the bearhug he got as they rolled to the side, both like spring rolls and being covered in mud, rain, dirt and whatever it was on the ground in the process.
Magnus had instinctively shut his eyes as they moved, not at all eager to feel that stinging pain that came when foreign objects got lodged in one's irises. By the time they stopped moving and the man felt safe to reopen his eyes, it was only then did the Master Informer notice the man to be in posession of not only bright green eyes, but a body far larger then he'd usually see on a man who did not have military background. Or maybe he did? Who was he to judge on first glance.
The close proximity however, meant that Magnus could also take in the high cheek bones, sharp nose and broad shoulders. Yet something about the man screamed himself to be a foreigner, and with all the checks Magnus had been doing, he was definitely not one he remembered being recorded consistently.
Frowning as the man scrambled away, Magnus too got off the other as quick as he could, the position in no way comfortable for two men to be in. The quickly murmured formal thank you was almost a confirmation for Magnus that this was no ordinary foreigner, and he couldn't help but let his own eyes follow the other in curiosity. Such was his mind, and had always been as a child. It was why he had become who he was today, for Magnus never left any question unanswered, or risk losing sleep. His gaze following Khanh's meant he saw the man helping Myrrine and another woman with red hair the kind that made Magnus immediately assume she had people not of Greece in her family history. While he could've went to help, the man quickly saw the other's to be in safe hands.
Leaving them to that, his attention was diverted when he heard yet another loud crack, for his eyes to fall upon the clothed up man (he assumed), kicking at more wooden pieces from an already-ruined cart. Watching as the man seem to struggle with breaking free pieces, Magnus dusted off the drit as best as he could, before scurrying over to take hold of the pieces of wood he already had in his posession so he could free Akhmad's hand to go and work on yet another.
Turning down however to look at them, Magnus couldn't help but frown at the number, and then back at the man. "Why do you need so many planks of wood for?" Surely if they were foreigners staying in an inn, they wouldn't need any such wood?
Honestly, Magnus usually preferred to not see people get injured, considering half the time it just led to even more work for him. While he usually was quite a workaholic and he was sure Leto would attest to that, at the moment the Master Informer had his plate quite full, and this blasted storm wasn't helping matters.
He had reacted in instinct to knock the foreigner out of the way before he got behaded by a pole, a sad way to go for sure. But the dark-haired spy had not expected to get an embrace in return.... or if that's what you would call the bearhug he got as they rolled to the side, both like spring rolls and being covered in mud, rain, dirt and whatever it was on the ground in the process.
Magnus had instinctively shut his eyes as they moved, not at all eager to feel that stinging pain that came when foreign objects got lodged in one's irises. By the time they stopped moving and the man felt safe to reopen his eyes, it was only then did the Master Informer notice the man to be in posession of not only bright green eyes, but a body far larger then he'd usually see on a man who did not have military background. Or maybe he did? Who was he to judge on first glance.
The close proximity however, meant that Magnus could also take in the high cheek bones, sharp nose and broad shoulders. Yet something about the man screamed himself to be a foreigner, and with all the checks Magnus had been doing, he was definitely not one he remembered being recorded consistently.
Frowning as the man scrambled away, Magnus too got off the other as quick as he could, the position in no way comfortable for two men to be in. The quickly murmured formal thank you was almost a confirmation for Magnus that this was no ordinary foreigner, and he couldn't help but let his own eyes follow the other in curiosity. Such was his mind, and had always been as a child. It was why he had become who he was today, for Magnus never left any question unanswered, or risk losing sleep. His gaze following Khanh's meant he saw the man helping Myrrine and another woman with red hair the kind that made Magnus immediately assume she had people not of Greece in her family history. While he could've went to help, the man quickly saw the other's to be in safe hands.
Leaving them to that, his attention was diverted when he heard yet another loud crack, for his eyes to fall upon the clothed up man (he assumed), kicking at more wooden pieces from an already-ruined cart. Watching as the man seem to struggle with breaking free pieces, Magnus dusted off the drit as best as he could, before scurrying over to take hold of the pieces of wood he already had in his posession so he could free Akhmad's hand to go and work on yet another.
Turning down however to look at them, Magnus couldn't help but frown at the number, and then back at the man. "Why do you need so many planks of wood for?" Surely if they were foreigners staying in an inn, they wouldn't need any such wood?
Akhmad was fighting with the cart and dismantling it for the boards over the windows as quickly as he could without losing sheets of the stuff to the wind skirting it down the cobblestoned streets. Frick and all that was holy if this was what Colchis was like on a yearly basis, why in the hell did anyone live here?
Having to pause for a moment in order to resecure the cloth around his head in a new way that kept it trim beneath his chin and fixed across his features, he felt for its security this time. When the wind blew and the sheets of his fabric mask didn't immediately fly up and away from his face, he knew that his identity was once more safe and then turned back to the cart he had been kicking to smithereens.
Somra was quick to join him, having spotted the issues he was having with the pieces he kept under foot. She took them from beneath the sole of his boot and he let her wander off with them, wondering if she might be blown off her feet with them. Luckily, Somra was athletic. Tight and muscle-bound, she would hold a heavy and low centre of gravity like Akhmad did. Despite her small size, she would stick fast to the cobbles. Even if it was hard work to fight against the monsoon winds.
When the Grecian that he had seen at the temple investigating that girl's dismembered body was suddenly beside him, Akhmad straightened under Magnus' shrewd look. He backed away from the man slowly, raising his hands in apology and moving his fingers in a slicing motion at his neck. A clear mime for mute. He looked around to see that Khanh was distracted with other things, wondering if he should leave the wood and run or if that would look more suspicious than simply walking away with the slabs. Yet, if he walked, the man might follow him to the hideout.
Deciding it was better to play the part of a leper and be honest with the reasons for the wood - given that it wasn't really a big crime in the grand scheme of things, Akhmad mimed picking up a piece of the wood and pretended to hammer something into it. He then pointed at the window of a nearby building...
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Akhmad was fighting with the cart and dismantling it for the boards over the windows as quickly as he could without losing sheets of the stuff to the wind skirting it down the cobblestoned streets. Frick and all that was holy if this was what Colchis was like on a yearly basis, why in the hell did anyone live here?
Having to pause for a moment in order to resecure the cloth around his head in a new way that kept it trim beneath his chin and fixed across his features, he felt for its security this time. When the wind blew and the sheets of his fabric mask didn't immediately fly up and away from his face, he knew that his identity was once more safe and then turned back to the cart he had been kicking to smithereens.
Somra was quick to join him, having spotted the issues he was having with the pieces he kept under foot. She took them from beneath the sole of his boot and he let her wander off with them, wondering if she might be blown off her feet with them. Luckily, Somra was athletic. Tight and muscle-bound, she would hold a heavy and low centre of gravity like Akhmad did. Despite her small size, she would stick fast to the cobbles. Even if it was hard work to fight against the monsoon winds.
When the Grecian that he had seen at the temple investigating that girl's dismembered body was suddenly beside him, Akhmad straightened under Magnus' shrewd look. He backed away from the man slowly, raising his hands in apology and moving his fingers in a slicing motion at his neck. A clear mime for mute. He looked around to see that Khanh was distracted with other things, wondering if he should leave the wood and run or if that would look more suspicious than simply walking away with the slabs. Yet, if he walked, the man might follow him to the hideout.
Deciding it was better to play the part of a leper and be honest with the reasons for the wood - given that it wasn't really a big crime in the grand scheme of things, Akhmad mimed picking up a piece of the wood and pretended to hammer something into it. He then pointed at the window of a nearby building...
Akhmad was fighting with the cart and dismantling it for the boards over the windows as quickly as he could without losing sheets of the stuff to the wind skirting it down the cobblestoned streets. Frick and all that was holy if this was what Colchis was like on a yearly basis, why in the hell did anyone live here?
Having to pause for a moment in order to resecure the cloth around his head in a new way that kept it trim beneath his chin and fixed across his features, he felt for its security this time. When the wind blew and the sheets of his fabric mask didn't immediately fly up and away from his face, he knew that his identity was once more safe and then turned back to the cart he had been kicking to smithereens.
Somra was quick to join him, having spotted the issues he was having with the pieces he kept under foot. She took them from beneath the sole of his boot and he let her wander off with them, wondering if she might be blown off her feet with them. Luckily, Somra was athletic. Tight and muscle-bound, she would hold a heavy and low centre of gravity like Akhmad did. Despite her small size, she would stick fast to the cobbles. Even if it was hard work to fight against the monsoon winds.
When the Grecian that he had seen at the temple investigating that girl's dismembered body was suddenly beside him, Akhmad straightened under Magnus' shrewd look. He backed away from the man slowly, raising his hands in apology and moving his fingers in a slicing motion at his neck. A clear mime for mute. He looked around to see that Khanh was distracted with other things, wondering if he should leave the wood and run or if that would look more suspicious than simply walking away with the slabs. Yet, if he walked, the man might follow him to the hideout.
Deciding it was better to play the part of a leper and be honest with the reasons for the wood - given that it wasn't really a big crime in the grand scheme of things, Akhmad mimed picking up a piece of the wood and pretended to hammer something into it. He then pointed at the window of a nearby building...
Stormy season. Adelpha wasn't too fond of them. Yes she saw a beauty in them and more often than not, she had painted such scenes of crashing waves along the shoreline. But when one has a house on the beach, such storms can be deadly. There was a rocky reef not far off that helped to disrupt some of the storm surges, but sometimes it wasn't enough.
Adelpha had boarded up her windows and moved most of her artwork and supplies up high to protect them from any flooding. But was it going to be enough? How long was this storm going to last?
With some effort she opened her door so that she could possibly see the edge of the storm and get some kind of sense of how long it'd last. A strong gust took hold, causing her to lose her grip on the door as it was whipped open all the way. She ventured outside anyways, despite the wind and the rain pelting down on her. Adelpha's eyes were on the horizon by the time that a piece of wood that was probably once secured over a window came crashing into her head. She stumbled over and fell into the wet sand unconscious.
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Stormy season. Adelpha wasn't too fond of them. Yes she saw a beauty in them and more often than not, she had painted such scenes of crashing waves along the shoreline. But when one has a house on the beach, such storms can be deadly. There was a rocky reef not far off that helped to disrupt some of the storm surges, but sometimes it wasn't enough.
Adelpha had boarded up her windows and moved most of her artwork and supplies up high to protect them from any flooding. But was it going to be enough? How long was this storm going to last?
With some effort she opened her door so that she could possibly see the edge of the storm and get some kind of sense of how long it'd last. A strong gust took hold, causing her to lose her grip on the door as it was whipped open all the way. She ventured outside anyways, despite the wind and the rain pelting down on her. Adelpha's eyes were on the horizon by the time that a piece of wood that was probably once secured over a window came crashing into her head. She stumbled over and fell into the wet sand unconscious.
Stormy season. Adelpha wasn't too fond of them. Yes she saw a beauty in them and more often than not, she had painted such scenes of crashing waves along the shoreline. But when one has a house on the beach, such storms can be deadly. There was a rocky reef not far off that helped to disrupt some of the storm surges, but sometimes it wasn't enough.
Adelpha had boarded up her windows and moved most of her artwork and supplies up high to protect them from any flooding. But was it going to be enough? How long was this storm going to last?
With some effort she opened her door so that she could possibly see the edge of the storm and get some kind of sense of how long it'd last. A strong gust took hold, causing her to lose her grip on the door as it was whipped open all the way. She ventured outside anyways, despite the wind and the rain pelting down on her. Adelpha's eyes were on the horizon by the time that a piece of wood that was probably once secured over a window came crashing into her head. She stumbled over and fell into the wet sand unconscious.
Unfortunately for Khanh, Magnus chose to go towards Akhmad, not the women. Khanh looked a little helplessly down at the two of them and then around. This was just not a job he really wanted, to babysit them. However, his intention had been to take them across the street and so that was exactly what he did. Fighting wind and driving rain, keeping an arm up to block flying debris. Frustratingly, yet another wet shawl wrapped around his arm and slapped him in the face with its slippery fabric. He had the impression that this was about as gross as being whapped across the face with a dead fish - just as slimy and cold and gritty.
“Here,” Khanh grunted and plopped the slimy, grainy shawl into Euterpe’s arms. If he’d had the time to look at her, Euterpe’s unusual hair would have interested him considerably. Red hair was something he’d only seen once or twice and every time he was confronted with it, it was just so foreign and strange. Now, however, he didn’t notice. He was lugging the two women by force across the street and now depositing them in the relative safety behind the wall of the building where he and Magnus had tumbled down together. If they didn’t have enough sense of self preservation to stay where he placed them, it wasn’t his problem. He’d done his good deed for the day and now he just wanted to get home to make sure that Somra had actually done as she was told.
Darting back across the street at a healthy clip, Khanh darted past Akhmad and Magnus, not seeing either of them because he had to duck another flying chair. He was becoming concerned about all this random furniture. Did people just leave their chairs outside to maybe enjoy the sea view?
The storm was a little less dangerous once he made it into the narrow confines of the alley that would lead him to the very end where their burned out hovel was. He approached the house and slid through the doorway, shutting it with a slam. “Somra?” he called and on cue, she appeared from the second story, wearing dry clothes - his clothes- and approaching the pot of boiling water. His clothes dwarfed her and she looked so adorable that he didn’t say anything except, “Those aren’t my only clean ones, are they?” If they were, he was going to dip into Nahash’s stash.
Dripping across the floor, he took the stairs two at a time, peeling off clothes as he went. Despite the fact that there were two women in the group, Khanh nor the rest of the men (save Akhmad) took much care to keep them from seeing whatever. Tiye was practically non-female to Khanh by this point and he was pretty sure that he wouldn’t shock Somra. She wouldn’t be in this group if she had any reservations about her.
Luckily for Nahash, Khanh did have one final pair of clothes left and he donned them quickly. The first of the shivers hit him. Taking the blanket from his bedroll, he wrapped it tightly about himself and came back downstairs where Somra and the fire were. “What tea’s that?” he asked as he settled across from her, leaning towards the pot to sniff.
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Unfortunately for Khanh, Magnus chose to go towards Akhmad, not the women. Khanh looked a little helplessly down at the two of them and then around. This was just not a job he really wanted, to babysit them. However, his intention had been to take them across the street and so that was exactly what he did. Fighting wind and driving rain, keeping an arm up to block flying debris. Frustratingly, yet another wet shawl wrapped around his arm and slapped him in the face with its slippery fabric. He had the impression that this was about as gross as being whapped across the face with a dead fish - just as slimy and cold and gritty.
“Here,” Khanh grunted and plopped the slimy, grainy shawl into Euterpe’s arms. If he’d had the time to look at her, Euterpe’s unusual hair would have interested him considerably. Red hair was something he’d only seen once or twice and every time he was confronted with it, it was just so foreign and strange. Now, however, he didn’t notice. He was lugging the two women by force across the street and now depositing them in the relative safety behind the wall of the building where he and Magnus had tumbled down together. If they didn’t have enough sense of self preservation to stay where he placed them, it wasn’t his problem. He’d done his good deed for the day and now he just wanted to get home to make sure that Somra had actually done as she was told.
Darting back across the street at a healthy clip, Khanh darted past Akhmad and Magnus, not seeing either of them because he had to duck another flying chair. He was becoming concerned about all this random furniture. Did people just leave their chairs outside to maybe enjoy the sea view?
The storm was a little less dangerous once he made it into the narrow confines of the alley that would lead him to the very end where their burned out hovel was. He approached the house and slid through the doorway, shutting it with a slam. “Somra?” he called and on cue, she appeared from the second story, wearing dry clothes - his clothes- and approaching the pot of boiling water. His clothes dwarfed her and she looked so adorable that he didn’t say anything except, “Those aren’t my only clean ones, are they?” If they were, he was going to dip into Nahash’s stash.
Dripping across the floor, he took the stairs two at a time, peeling off clothes as he went. Despite the fact that there were two women in the group, Khanh nor the rest of the men (save Akhmad) took much care to keep them from seeing whatever. Tiye was practically non-female to Khanh by this point and he was pretty sure that he wouldn’t shock Somra. She wouldn’t be in this group if she had any reservations about her.
Luckily for Nahash, Khanh did have one final pair of clothes left and he donned them quickly. The first of the shivers hit him. Taking the blanket from his bedroll, he wrapped it tightly about himself and came back downstairs where Somra and the fire were. “What tea’s that?” he asked as he settled across from her, leaning towards the pot to sniff.
Unfortunately for Khanh, Magnus chose to go towards Akhmad, not the women. Khanh looked a little helplessly down at the two of them and then around. This was just not a job he really wanted, to babysit them. However, his intention had been to take them across the street and so that was exactly what he did. Fighting wind and driving rain, keeping an arm up to block flying debris. Frustratingly, yet another wet shawl wrapped around his arm and slapped him in the face with its slippery fabric. He had the impression that this was about as gross as being whapped across the face with a dead fish - just as slimy and cold and gritty.
“Here,” Khanh grunted and plopped the slimy, grainy shawl into Euterpe’s arms. If he’d had the time to look at her, Euterpe’s unusual hair would have interested him considerably. Red hair was something he’d only seen once or twice and every time he was confronted with it, it was just so foreign and strange. Now, however, he didn’t notice. He was lugging the two women by force across the street and now depositing them in the relative safety behind the wall of the building where he and Magnus had tumbled down together. If they didn’t have enough sense of self preservation to stay where he placed them, it wasn’t his problem. He’d done his good deed for the day and now he just wanted to get home to make sure that Somra had actually done as she was told.
Darting back across the street at a healthy clip, Khanh darted past Akhmad and Magnus, not seeing either of them because he had to duck another flying chair. He was becoming concerned about all this random furniture. Did people just leave their chairs outside to maybe enjoy the sea view?
The storm was a little less dangerous once he made it into the narrow confines of the alley that would lead him to the very end where their burned out hovel was. He approached the house and slid through the doorway, shutting it with a slam. “Somra?” he called and on cue, she appeared from the second story, wearing dry clothes - his clothes- and approaching the pot of boiling water. His clothes dwarfed her and she looked so adorable that he didn’t say anything except, “Those aren’t my only clean ones, are they?” If they were, he was going to dip into Nahash’s stash.
Dripping across the floor, he took the stairs two at a time, peeling off clothes as he went. Despite the fact that there were two women in the group, Khanh nor the rest of the men (save Akhmad) took much care to keep them from seeing whatever. Tiye was practically non-female to Khanh by this point and he was pretty sure that he wouldn’t shock Somra. She wouldn’t be in this group if she had any reservations about her.
Luckily for Nahash, Khanh did have one final pair of clothes left and he donned them quickly. The first of the shivers hit him. Taking the blanket from his bedroll, he wrapped it tightly about himself and came back downstairs where Somra and the fire were. “What tea’s that?” he asked as he settled across from her, leaning towards the pot to sniff.
“I don’t think so.” She stated as Khanh came inside and asked about the clothing she was wearing. She could have sworn she had seen at least one more set of clothing that seemed to be dry and clean, though she easily could have been mistaken. He at least didn’t seem upset that she was wearing his clothes, which she was thankful for considering her own clothing would not offer warmth in this terrible weather. Coming from lands that were hot, and travelling to Egypt immediately after, she hadn’t exactly had warm clothes to call her own. Nor did she think she would need them, but the Greek weather certainly proved her a fool.
“It’s a blend of stuff that I made myself. It’s good for you, and it’ll help us all warm up.” She stated as he asked her about what tea she’s as making. It was something her mother had taught her to make, a blend that travellers seemed to love upon arriving at the inn where she had been born and raised. Despite the hot weather where she came from, tea was still a flavoured drink of weary travellers. At least before they got into the wine.
She continued to stir the tea until the water was dark enough, and which point she scooped some into two cups, bringing him one and handing it to him before taking the pot off the fire and setting it aside so it didn’t boil too much.
She then settled cross legged on the floor beside him and took a sip of the hot liquid from her cup, letting the warmth sink into her body and start to warm her.
“I know Akhmad is still outside, but I hope the others made it to shelter, where ever they are.” She said. She knew that for the most part, the others could take care of themselves, and surely they knew to find shelter somewhere. But Somra couldn’t help who she was, and despite the rocky road that had been her relationships with each of them so far, she still hoped they were safe during this storm. She wasn’t completely heartless.
She also hoped that Akhmad would take shelter soon, the winds were picking up and things were only bound to get worse. There was only so much they could do to secure the place, they had to hope that the building could withstand the storm and they would all be fine.
She shivered a little and leaned against him, for his warmth. Or at least that’s what she told herself, and what she would tell anyone if they questioned it. She wasn’t sure how he was going to react, and if he didn’t like it, he was free to tell her so or to move away.
Though a tiny part of her thought that he might react poorly, like the first night they arrived there, when he had lost it on her. She was still at least a little bit scared of him, and she wasn’t sure that would ever go away.
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“I don’t think so.” She stated as Khanh came inside and asked about the clothing she was wearing. She could have sworn she had seen at least one more set of clothing that seemed to be dry and clean, though she easily could have been mistaken. He at least didn’t seem upset that she was wearing his clothes, which she was thankful for considering her own clothing would not offer warmth in this terrible weather. Coming from lands that were hot, and travelling to Egypt immediately after, she hadn’t exactly had warm clothes to call her own. Nor did she think she would need them, but the Greek weather certainly proved her a fool.
“It’s a blend of stuff that I made myself. It’s good for you, and it’ll help us all warm up.” She stated as he asked her about what tea she’s as making. It was something her mother had taught her to make, a blend that travellers seemed to love upon arriving at the inn where she had been born and raised. Despite the hot weather where she came from, tea was still a flavoured drink of weary travellers. At least before they got into the wine.
She continued to stir the tea until the water was dark enough, and which point she scooped some into two cups, bringing him one and handing it to him before taking the pot off the fire and setting it aside so it didn’t boil too much.
She then settled cross legged on the floor beside him and took a sip of the hot liquid from her cup, letting the warmth sink into her body and start to warm her.
“I know Akhmad is still outside, but I hope the others made it to shelter, where ever they are.” She said. She knew that for the most part, the others could take care of themselves, and surely they knew to find shelter somewhere. But Somra couldn’t help who she was, and despite the rocky road that had been her relationships with each of them so far, she still hoped they were safe during this storm. She wasn’t completely heartless.
She also hoped that Akhmad would take shelter soon, the winds were picking up and things were only bound to get worse. There was only so much they could do to secure the place, they had to hope that the building could withstand the storm and they would all be fine.
She shivered a little and leaned against him, for his warmth. Or at least that’s what she told herself, and what she would tell anyone if they questioned it. She wasn’t sure how he was going to react, and if he didn’t like it, he was free to tell her so or to move away.
Though a tiny part of her thought that he might react poorly, like the first night they arrived there, when he had lost it on her. She was still at least a little bit scared of him, and she wasn’t sure that would ever go away.
“I don’t think so.” She stated as Khanh came inside and asked about the clothing she was wearing. She could have sworn she had seen at least one more set of clothing that seemed to be dry and clean, though she easily could have been mistaken. He at least didn’t seem upset that she was wearing his clothes, which she was thankful for considering her own clothing would not offer warmth in this terrible weather. Coming from lands that were hot, and travelling to Egypt immediately after, she hadn’t exactly had warm clothes to call her own. Nor did she think she would need them, but the Greek weather certainly proved her a fool.
“It’s a blend of stuff that I made myself. It’s good for you, and it’ll help us all warm up.” She stated as he asked her about what tea she’s as making. It was something her mother had taught her to make, a blend that travellers seemed to love upon arriving at the inn where she had been born and raised. Despite the hot weather where she came from, tea was still a flavoured drink of weary travellers. At least before they got into the wine.
She continued to stir the tea until the water was dark enough, and which point she scooped some into two cups, bringing him one and handing it to him before taking the pot off the fire and setting it aside so it didn’t boil too much.
She then settled cross legged on the floor beside him and took a sip of the hot liquid from her cup, letting the warmth sink into her body and start to warm her.
“I know Akhmad is still outside, but I hope the others made it to shelter, where ever they are.” She said. She knew that for the most part, the others could take care of themselves, and surely they knew to find shelter somewhere. But Somra couldn’t help who she was, and despite the rocky road that had been her relationships with each of them so far, she still hoped they were safe during this storm. She wasn’t completely heartless.
She also hoped that Akhmad would take shelter soon, the winds were picking up and things were only bound to get worse. There was only so much they could do to secure the place, they had to hope that the building could withstand the storm and they would all be fine.
She shivered a little and leaned against him, for his warmth. Or at least that’s what she told herself, and what she would tell anyone if they questioned it. She wasn’t sure how he was going to react, and if he didn’t like it, he was free to tell her so or to move away.
Though a tiny part of her thought that he might react poorly, like the first night they arrived there, when he had lost it on her. She was still at least a little bit scared of him, and she wasn’t sure that would ever go away.
Even as he asked, he realized it was tea. His hope of some sort of soup or stew was a bit premature, he knew. She wouldn’t have had enough time to have anything like food ready to go but tea? Tea was simple and quick. It was no tea he was familiar with but there were scents that he could put names to. Scents that were calming and comforting. “It’s a blend of stuff that I made myself,” she said to him as she stirred. “It’s good for you, and it’ll help us all warm up.” Like her, he watched the liquid whirling around, the bits of leaves free wheeling and yet caught in the current nonetheless. Slowly the water darkened. Khanh sat back, balling his fists in the blanket as a fresh shudder ran through him. His nose threatened to run already. That was a bad sign.
He watched her ladle the tea into first one cup, then another. Reaching across the small fire, she held out the cup to him and he took it, holding it for the time being. Steam rose, carrying with it the comforting aroma and putting him more at ease than he really should have been. No one was here, apart from herself and Akhmad. Even Akhmad was still out in the storm. Where Tiye, Zai, and Nahash were? Only the gods knew.
Somra pulled the small pot of boiling water off the fire a bit to let it cool. The flames, having been bent under the pot’s base, flared back to life, casting merry flickers of orange and gold across Somra as she came around them to settle at his side. He shifted a little to make room for her but she was still nearly on top of him. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it. He hadn’t yet decided if she wasn’t a cat, content to curl next to him one minute and scratch at him the next.
Her thoughts apparently tended in the same direction as his as she commented that she hoped the others were alright. Khanh glanced at the door and boarded up windows behind them, hoping the same. He nearly jumped when he felt her lean against him and his head whipped back around to look down at the top of her head as it rested against his shoulder. For a few seconds he didn’t move. Then, slowly so as not to startle her, he extricated his arm from beneath her and draped the other half of his blanket around her shoulders, then replaced his arm where it had been so that she was against his shoulder again, though now ensconced in the same blanket. For warmth. Obviously.
This was perfectly explainable if anyone came in. He’d do the same for any of the rest of them. Of course, the rest of them hadn’t tried to stab him.
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Even as he asked, he realized it was tea. His hope of some sort of soup or stew was a bit premature, he knew. She wouldn’t have had enough time to have anything like food ready to go but tea? Tea was simple and quick. It was no tea he was familiar with but there were scents that he could put names to. Scents that were calming and comforting. “It’s a blend of stuff that I made myself,” she said to him as she stirred. “It’s good for you, and it’ll help us all warm up.” Like her, he watched the liquid whirling around, the bits of leaves free wheeling and yet caught in the current nonetheless. Slowly the water darkened. Khanh sat back, balling his fists in the blanket as a fresh shudder ran through him. His nose threatened to run already. That was a bad sign.
He watched her ladle the tea into first one cup, then another. Reaching across the small fire, she held out the cup to him and he took it, holding it for the time being. Steam rose, carrying with it the comforting aroma and putting him more at ease than he really should have been. No one was here, apart from herself and Akhmad. Even Akhmad was still out in the storm. Where Tiye, Zai, and Nahash were? Only the gods knew.
Somra pulled the small pot of boiling water off the fire a bit to let it cool. The flames, having been bent under the pot’s base, flared back to life, casting merry flickers of orange and gold across Somra as she came around them to settle at his side. He shifted a little to make room for her but she was still nearly on top of him. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it. He hadn’t yet decided if she wasn’t a cat, content to curl next to him one minute and scratch at him the next.
Her thoughts apparently tended in the same direction as his as she commented that she hoped the others were alright. Khanh glanced at the door and boarded up windows behind them, hoping the same. He nearly jumped when he felt her lean against him and his head whipped back around to look down at the top of her head as it rested against his shoulder. For a few seconds he didn’t move. Then, slowly so as not to startle her, he extricated his arm from beneath her and draped the other half of his blanket around her shoulders, then replaced his arm where it had been so that she was against his shoulder again, though now ensconced in the same blanket. For warmth. Obviously.
This was perfectly explainable if anyone came in. He’d do the same for any of the rest of them. Of course, the rest of them hadn’t tried to stab him.
Even as he asked, he realized it was tea. His hope of some sort of soup or stew was a bit premature, he knew. She wouldn’t have had enough time to have anything like food ready to go but tea? Tea was simple and quick. It was no tea he was familiar with but there were scents that he could put names to. Scents that were calming and comforting. “It’s a blend of stuff that I made myself,” she said to him as she stirred. “It’s good for you, and it’ll help us all warm up.” Like her, he watched the liquid whirling around, the bits of leaves free wheeling and yet caught in the current nonetheless. Slowly the water darkened. Khanh sat back, balling his fists in the blanket as a fresh shudder ran through him. His nose threatened to run already. That was a bad sign.
He watched her ladle the tea into first one cup, then another. Reaching across the small fire, she held out the cup to him and he took it, holding it for the time being. Steam rose, carrying with it the comforting aroma and putting him more at ease than he really should have been. No one was here, apart from herself and Akhmad. Even Akhmad was still out in the storm. Where Tiye, Zai, and Nahash were? Only the gods knew.
Somra pulled the small pot of boiling water off the fire a bit to let it cool. The flames, having been bent under the pot’s base, flared back to life, casting merry flickers of orange and gold across Somra as she came around them to settle at his side. He shifted a little to make room for her but she was still nearly on top of him. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it. He hadn’t yet decided if she wasn’t a cat, content to curl next to him one minute and scratch at him the next.
Her thoughts apparently tended in the same direction as his as she commented that she hoped the others were alright. Khanh glanced at the door and boarded up windows behind them, hoping the same. He nearly jumped when he felt her lean against him and his head whipped back around to look down at the top of her head as it rested against his shoulder. For a few seconds he didn’t move. Then, slowly so as not to startle her, he extricated his arm from beneath her and draped the other half of his blanket around her shoulders, then replaced his arm where it had been so that she was against his shoulder again, though now ensconced in the same blanket. For warmth. Obviously.
This was perfectly explainable if anyone came in. He’d do the same for any of the rest of them. Of course, the rest of them hadn’t tried to stab him.
Myrrine had already fallen into the role of nurturer like a second skin. In truth, she spent so much time mothering and tending to practical matters, it was her own self that felt foreign more often than not. Anytime someone was scared - truly, deeply afraid - they weren’t that different from a child. And if there was one thing Myrrine was practically an expert at, it was caring for children.
“Don’t worry about thanking me until we’re all wrapped up and cozy in front of the hearth, alright sweetheart?” she reassured her. That was her first priority. “I saw you, or I’m not sure I would have heard honestly,” she admitted. “But it’s going to be alright, Euterpe. I swear it on my life, I’m going to take care of you.” There was so much she wanted to promise, but she knew better than to use those words lightly. But she could be certain she would see this girl cared for in whatever way she needed.
Myrrine certainly wasn’t about to leave the poor dear alone. Not even for her own well-being.
So she worked at unburying the young priestess, her mind diligently focused on moving both as quickly and as carefully as she could. If the wood collapsed, she would surely be injured, but if she took too long, who knew how much worse things could get. In fact, she was so focused, she didn’t even hear the crack of wood behind her. Only the sudden cry of the trapped priestess before a weight bore down on her. She fell against the rubble, the sudden impact knocking the wind from her lungs as an ache settled over her.
“I’m... okay,” she wheezed, realizing only afterwards that she sounded far from comforting. She was less trapped and more stunned really. She was just trying to readjust to attempt to shove the debris off herself when that same foreign man appeared, moving the wood rubble with ease to free them both. Despite his earlier gruffness, Myrrine didn’t hesitate to take his hand, returning to her feat and ignoring the vague ache that was settling throughout her body all the while.
He began to lead them across the street, though Myrrine quickly spoke up. “Sir! My home is just there,” she began, pointing towards the residence. Whether he couldn’t hear her or simply didn’t care, he deposited them several doors down, behind a wall. Without so much as another word, he was gone, presumably to tend to his own issues. Myrrine huffed slightly, mind already calculating the best way to handle this. The storm would only get worse. Waiting it out wasn’t a viable option.
She turned towards the priestess. “My home is just a few doors down, that one there,” she began, once more gesturing to the correct one. “If we stay close to the buildings and pay close attention, we ought to be able to reach it without much incident. We can shelter there until this passes and tend to our scratches and cold bones in the meantime.” She forced a reassuring smile, even as her own stomach was in knots.
Her eyes darted from her home to the priestess once more, taking the young redhead’s hand in her own. “Ready?”
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Myrrine had already fallen into the role of nurturer like a second skin. In truth, she spent so much time mothering and tending to practical matters, it was her own self that felt foreign more often than not. Anytime someone was scared - truly, deeply afraid - they weren’t that different from a child. And if there was one thing Myrrine was practically an expert at, it was caring for children.
“Don’t worry about thanking me until we’re all wrapped up and cozy in front of the hearth, alright sweetheart?” she reassured her. That was her first priority. “I saw you, or I’m not sure I would have heard honestly,” she admitted. “But it’s going to be alright, Euterpe. I swear it on my life, I’m going to take care of you.” There was so much she wanted to promise, but she knew better than to use those words lightly. But she could be certain she would see this girl cared for in whatever way she needed.
Myrrine certainly wasn’t about to leave the poor dear alone. Not even for her own well-being.
So she worked at unburying the young priestess, her mind diligently focused on moving both as quickly and as carefully as she could. If the wood collapsed, she would surely be injured, but if she took too long, who knew how much worse things could get. In fact, she was so focused, she didn’t even hear the crack of wood behind her. Only the sudden cry of the trapped priestess before a weight bore down on her. She fell against the rubble, the sudden impact knocking the wind from her lungs as an ache settled over her.
“I’m... okay,” she wheezed, realizing only afterwards that she sounded far from comforting. She was less trapped and more stunned really. She was just trying to readjust to attempt to shove the debris off herself when that same foreign man appeared, moving the wood rubble with ease to free them both. Despite his earlier gruffness, Myrrine didn’t hesitate to take his hand, returning to her feat and ignoring the vague ache that was settling throughout her body all the while.
He began to lead them across the street, though Myrrine quickly spoke up. “Sir! My home is just there,” she began, pointing towards the residence. Whether he couldn’t hear her or simply didn’t care, he deposited them several doors down, behind a wall. Without so much as another word, he was gone, presumably to tend to his own issues. Myrrine huffed slightly, mind already calculating the best way to handle this. The storm would only get worse. Waiting it out wasn’t a viable option.
She turned towards the priestess. “My home is just a few doors down, that one there,” she began, once more gesturing to the correct one. “If we stay close to the buildings and pay close attention, we ought to be able to reach it without much incident. We can shelter there until this passes and tend to our scratches and cold bones in the meantime.” She forced a reassuring smile, even as her own stomach was in knots.
Her eyes darted from her home to the priestess once more, taking the young redhead’s hand in her own. “Ready?”
Myrrine had already fallen into the role of nurturer like a second skin. In truth, she spent so much time mothering and tending to practical matters, it was her own self that felt foreign more often than not. Anytime someone was scared - truly, deeply afraid - they weren’t that different from a child. And if there was one thing Myrrine was practically an expert at, it was caring for children.
“Don’t worry about thanking me until we’re all wrapped up and cozy in front of the hearth, alright sweetheart?” she reassured her. That was her first priority. “I saw you, or I’m not sure I would have heard honestly,” she admitted. “But it’s going to be alright, Euterpe. I swear it on my life, I’m going to take care of you.” There was so much she wanted to promise, but she knew better than to use those words lightly. But she could be certain she would see this girl cared for in whatever way she needed.
Myrrine certainly wasn’t about to leave the poor dear alone. Not even for her own well-being.
So she worked at unburying the young priestess, her mind diligently focused on moving both as quickly and as carefully as she could. If the wood collapsed, she would surely be injured, but if she took too long, who knew how much worse things could get. In fact, she was so focused, she didn’t even hear the crack of wood behind her. Only the sudden cry of the trapped priestess before a weight bore down on her. She fell against the rubble, the sudden impact knocking the wind from her lungs as an ache settled over her.
“I’m... okay,” she wheezed, realizing only afterwards that she sounded far from comforting. She was less trapped and more stunned really. She was just trying to readjust to attempt to shove the debris off herself when that same foreign man appeared, moving the wood rubble with ease to free them both. Despite his earlier gruffness, Myrrine didn’t hesitate to take his hand, returning to her feat and ignoring the vague ache that was settling throughout her body all the while.
He began to lead them across the street, though Myrrine quickly spoke up. “Sir! My home is just there,” she began, pointing towards the residence. Whether he couldn’t hear her or simply didn’t care, he deposited them several doors down, behind a wall. Without so much as another word, he was gone, presumably to tend to his own issues. Myrrine huffed slightly, mind already calculating the best way to handle this. The storm would only get worse. Waiting it out wasn’t a viable option.
She turned towards the priestess. “My home is just a few doors down, that one there,” she began, once more gesturing to the correct one. “If we stay close to the buildings and pay close attention, we ought to be able to reach it without much incident. We can shelter there until this passes and tend to our scratches and cold bones in the meantime.” She forced a reassuring smile, even as her own stomach was in knots.
Her eyes darted from her home to the priestess once more, taking the young redhead’s hand in her own. “Ready?”
Her heart constricted with fear as she heard the woman fall into the rubble, and for a breathless moment, she wondered if this was it for them both. However, Myrrine soon answered her and alleviated some of her terror, though her tone was not initially very encouraging. There was no way that either of them were getting out of this unscratched now. Euterpe knew she already had a few, and she felt terrible that this kind stranger was picking up several of her own on her behalf.
Myrrine’s tone soon changed to something more maternal, reassuring her in a calm, even voice that she was going to be taken care of. While Euterpe felt like a trapped animal in that moment, something else took over at the sound of her rescuer’s voice, insisting she was going to be all right. Though the storm raged furiously around them, it was hard to doubt her—even if such a thing seemed a long shot. “I believe you,” she told her erstwhile savior, her own voice muffled by the shattered wood encasing her.
Neither of them were left floundering for long, luckily, a large and muscular man with foreign features coming over to clear the rubble around them. Her gaze was curious as it rested on him, though she didn’t hesitate long; there was no time for gawking, not when debris still flew every which way. “Thank you,” she said as he pulled them free, hastening them down the street to a place of more safety. A wet shawl was placed in her arms, the fabric flying into her face as she spluttered. Why did he give this to her? Was it hers? She couldn’t even remember now if she’d been wearing one, but it hardly seemed to matter. It was ruined anyway.
Some instinct had her clutching at it regardless, the foreign man depositing them where they stood. Myrrine protested, saying her house was back the way they came, but the wind seemed to whip away her words, the man melting away as abruptly as he had arrived. “Thank you again!” she called after his retreating form, soon obscured by the raining deluge.
As the mysterious stranger disappeared, Euterpe turned to listen as Myrrine explained where her home was and assured her they could retreat to safety inside. She was soaked to the skin and shivering with the cold of it; she didn’t care where they went, so long as it was warm. “That would be wonderful,” she said, taking the woman’s offered hand with a nod and pulling the sodden shawl over her head to fruitlessly shield her face. Though, why she was still bothering, she didn’t know… all she could see was water, anyway.
Myrrine asked if she was ready and Euterpe nodded and squeezed her hand in response. “Yes, let’s go,” she replied, her words punctuated by a loud clap of thunder that shook the very earth around them. Swallowing hard, the priestess took a resolute step forward. Already, Zeus had shown he was willing to help her; surely, he would allow them to find their way to safety without further incident.
Though it seemed to take an eternity, the pair fought their way through the wind and rain until they came to the door Euterpe thought Myrrine had pointed out. “Is this it?” she shouted above the swirling howl of the wind, bracing herself against the wall as another gale threatened to rip her feet out from under her. Gods, she hoped so, because this storm only seemed to be picking up by the minute…
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Her heart constricted with fear as she heard the woman fall into the rubble, and for a breathless moment, she wondered if this was it for them both. However, Myrrine soon answered her and alleviated some of her terror, though her tone was not initially very encouraging. There was no way that either of them were getting out of this unscratched now. Euterpe knew she already had a few, and she felt terrible that this kind stranger was picking up several of her own on her behalf.
Myrrine’s tone soon changed to something more maternal, reassuring her in a calm, even voice that she was going to be taken care of. While Euterpe felt like a trapped animal in that moment, something else took over at the sound of her rescuer’s voice, insisting she was going to be all right. Though the storm raged furiously around them, it was hard to doubt her—even if such a thing seemed a long shot. “I believe you,” she told her erstwhile savior, her own voice muffled by the shattered wood encasing her.
Neither of them were left floundering for long, luckily, a large and muscular man with foreign features coming over to clear the rubble around them. Her gaze was curious as it rested on him, though she didn’t hesitate long; there was no time for gawking, not when debris still flew every which way. “Thank you,” she said as he pulled them free, hastening them down the street to a place of more safety. A wet shawl was placed in her arms, the fabric flying into her face as she spluttered. Why did he give this to her? Was it hers? She couldn’t even remember now if she’d been wearing one, but it hardly seemed to matter. It was ruined anyway.
Some instinct had her clutching at it regardless, the foreign man depositing them where they stood. Myrrine protested, saying her house was back the way they came, but the wind seemed to whip away her words, the man melting away as abruptly as he had arrived. “Thank you again!” she called after his retreating form, soon obscured by the raining deluge.
As the mysterious stranger disappeared, Euterpe turned to listen as Myrrine explained where her home was and assured her they could retreat to safety inside. She was soaked to the skin and shivering with the cold of it; she didn’t care where they went, so long as it was warm. “That would be wonderful,” she said, taking the woman’s offered hand with a nod and pulling the sodden shawl over her head to fruitlessly shield her face. Though, why she was still bothering, she didn’t know… all she could see was water, anyway.
Myrrine asked if she was ready and Euterpe nodded and squeezed her hand in response. “Yes, let’s go,” she replied, her words punctuated by a loud clap of thunder that shook the very earth around them. Swallowing hard, the priestess took a resolute step forward. Already, Zeus had shown he was willing to help her; surely, he would allow them to find their way to safety without further incident.
Though it seemed to take an eternity, the pair fought their way through the wind and rain until they came to the door Euterpe thought Myrrine had pointed out. “Is this it?” she shouted above the swirling howl of the wind, bracing herself against the wall as another gale threatened to rip her feet out from under her. Gods, she hoped so, because this storm only seemed to be picking up by the minute…
Her heart constricted with fear as she heard the woman fall into the rubble, and for a breathless moment, she wondered if this was it for them both. However, Myrrine soon answered her and alleviated some of her terror, though her tone was not initially very encouraging. There was no way that either of them were getting out of this unscratched now. Euterpe knew she already had a few, and she felt terrible that this kind stranger was picking up several of her own on her behalf.
Myrrine’s tone soon changed to something more maternal, reassuring her in a calm, even voice that she was going to be taken care of. While Euterpe felt like a trapped animal in that moment, something else took over at the sound of her rescuer’s voice, insisting she was going to be all right. Though the storm raged furiously around them, it was hard to doubt her—even if such a thing seemed a long shot. “I believe you,” she told her erstwhile savior, her own voice muffled by the shattered wood encasing her.
Neither of them were left floundering for long, luckily, a large and muscular man with foreign features coming over to clear the rubble around them. Her gaze was curious as it rested on him, though she didn’t hesitate long; there was no time for gawking, not when debris still flew every which way. “Thank you,” she said as he pulled them free, hastening them down the street to a place of more safety. A wet shawl was placed in her arms, the fabric flying into her face as she spluttered. Why did he give this to her? Was it hers? She couldn’t even remember now if she’d been wearing one, but it hardly seemed to matter. It was ruined anyway.
Some instinct had her clutching at it regardless, the foreign man depositing them where they stood. Myrrine protested, saying her house was back the way they came, but the wind seemed to whip away her words, the man melting away as abruptly as he had arrived. “Thank you again!” she called after his retreating form, soon obscured by the raining deluge.
As the mysterious stranger disappeared, Euterpe turned to listen as Myrrine explained where her home was and assured her they could retreat to safety inside. She was soaked to the skin and shivering with the cold of it; she didn’t care where they went, so long as it was warm. “That would be wonderful,” she said, taking the woman’s offered hand with a nod and pulling the sodden shawl over her head to fruitlessly shield her face. Though, why she was still bothering, she didn’t know… all she could see was water, anyway.
Myrrine asked if she was ready and Euterpe nodded and squeezed her hand in response. “Yes, let’s go,” she replied, her words punctuated by a loud clap of thunder that shook the very earth around them. Swallowing hard, the priestess took a resolute step forward. Already, Zeus had shown he was willing to help her; surely, he would allow them to find their way to safety without further incident.
Though it seemed to take an eternity, the pair fought their way through the wind and rain until they came to the door Euterpe thought Myrrine had pointed out. “Is this it?” she shouted above the swirling howl of the wind, bracing herself against the wall as another gale threatened to rip her feet out from under her. Gods, she hoped so, because this storm only seemed to be picking up by the minute…
While he was assuming the man would give some form of answer, Magnus's look turned equal parts inquisitive and curious when the masked man started backing away from him, hands helpd up in apology... a mute? He was guessing from his motions, but does that mean the mute could not hear his question? Ah, there we go. Magnus conversed with a few mutes himself, and some of his informants were one. They made the best informants, as many seemed to think just because they were unable to speak, they spoke far more freely around them. Of course, between Magnus and his informant, they developed a sort of communication system, so it still took quite awhile before he could make out what this foreign one was saying.
Hammer at the window? Reinforcing? "I think now may be a little too late to do some reinforcing." he murmured in curiosity, but before he could probe further, the other foreign male he had the misfortune of falling upon earlier darted upon him, and the eyes of the Master Informer followed in curiosity - before suddenly realizing he had seen Myrrine, but his sister's friend was now suddenly nowhere to be seen.
Knowing Leto would likely have his head if he said he had seen but not followed up on Myrrine's location, the man quickly made his excuses to the mute, trying to folow the direction he had seen Myrrine being brought to earlier, only to realize she had found her way back to her own residence, a young redhead in tow.
Already sodden wet and likely quite unable to save this chiton any longer once he returned (he didn't want to imagine the words his mother would have for him), he quickly jogged over to Myrrine, just as the gales began to pick up, signs the storm was fully coming to have a time upon the rocky islands of Colchis. "Myrrine, get you and your friend in quickly!" he murmured, hurrying them up, as his eyes roamed the remainder of the area. Whatever chairs and tables which were loose had went flying, and everything and anything that could be saved had already been done so. There was now scarce few people left on the streets, most having done all they can and was likely now weathering out the storm.
Much like what he should be doing, really. So once Magnus ensured his sister's friend and companion entered their residence, the Master Informer himself hurried back to his own residence to take refuge.
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While he was assuming the man would give some form of answer, Magnus's look turned equal parts inquisitive and curious when the masked man started backing away from him, hands helpd up in apology... a mute? He was guessing from his motions, but does that mean the mute could not hear his question? Ah, there we go. Magnus conversed with a few mutes himself, and some of his informants were one. They made the best informants, as many seemed to think just because they were unable to speak, they spoke far more freely around them. Of course, between Magnus and his informant, they developed a sort of communication system, so it still took quite awhile before he could make out what this foreign one was saying.
Hammer at the window? Reinforcing? "I think now may be a little too late to do some reinforcing." he murmured in curiosity, but before he could probe further, the other foreign male he had the misfortune of falling upon earlier darted upon him, and the eyes of the Master Informer followed in curiosity - before suddenly realizing he had seen Myrrine, but his sister's friend was now suddenly nowhere to be seen.
Knowing Leto would likely have his head if he said he had seen but not followed up on Myrrine's location, the man quickly made his excuses to the mute, trying to folow the direction he had seen Myrrine being brought to earlier, only to realize she had found her way back to her own residence, a young redhead in tow.
Already sodden wet and likely quite unable to save this chiton any longer once he returned (he didn't want to imagine the words his mother would have for him), he quickly jogged over to Myrrine, just as the gales began to pick up, signs the storm was fully coming to have a time upon the rocky islands of Colchis. "Myrrine, get you and your friend in quickly!" he murmured, hurrying them up, as his eyes roamed the remainder of the area. Whatever chairs and tables which were loose had went flying, and everything and anything that could be saved had already been done so. There was now scarce few people left on the streets, most having done all they can and was likely now weathering out the storm.
Much like what he should be doing, really. So once Magnus ensured his sister's friend and companion entered their residence, the Master Informer himself hurried back to his own residence to take refuge.
While he was assuming the man would give some form of answer, Magnus's look turned equal parts inquisitive and curious when the masked man started backing away from him, hands helpd up in apology... a mute? He was guessing from his motions, but does that mean the mute could not hear his question? Ah, there we go. Magnus conversed with a few mutes himself, and some of his informants were one. They made the best informants, as many seemed to think just because they were unable to speak, they spoke far more freely around them. Of course, between Magnus and his informant, they developed a sort of communication system, so it still took quite awhile before he could make out what this foreign one was saying.
Hammer at the window? Reinforcing? "I think now may be a little too late to do some reinforcing." he murmured in curiosity, but before he could probe further, the other foreign male he had the misfortune of falling upon earlier darted upon him, and the eyes of the Master Informer followed in curiosity - before suddenly realizing he had seen Myrrine, but his sister's friend was now suddenly nowhere to be seen.
Knowing Leto would likely have his head if he said he had seen but not followed up on Myrrine's location, the man quickly made his excuses to the mute, trying to folow the direction he had seen Myrrine being brought to earlier, only to realize she had found her way back to her own residence, a young redhead in tow.
Already sodden wet and likely quite unable to save this chiton any longer once he returned (he didn't want to imagine the words his mother would have for him), he quickly jogged over to Myrrine, just as the gales began to pick up, signs the storm was fully coming to have a time upon the rocky islands of Colchis. "Myrrine, get you and your friend in quickly!" he murmured, hurrying them up, as his eyes roamed the remainder of the area. Whatever chairs and tables which were loose had went flying, and everything and anything that could be saved had already been done so. There was now scarce few people left on the streets, most having done all they can and was likely now weathering out the storm.
Much like what he should be doing, really. So once Magnus ensured his sister's friend and companion entered their residence, the Master Informer himself hurried back to his own residence to take refuge.