Wessex chuckles at the question, glad that the other she doesn’t seem offended. It is perhaps good neither of them are easily offended for they are both, it seems, the type to easily offend. Though Weaver would stick by her question anyway. What are you? and Who are you? are two very different questions. You don’t ask the second unless all you want is a name. You learn the second through conversation and time, and Wessex has already given pieces of who she is. What though is more specific, particularly in Caido. The races left them all similar but inherently different.
”What does that mean for you, to be a demi-god?” The whole demi-god thing was a new development. Maybe they’d existed once, but not in recent history. Not so far as anyone in Halo had heard, anyway, and she is genuinely curious. She laughs at the next comment though. ”I am sure you will be just fine in the rest of Halo. Warning though, the people of Whitebrim are always hungry and they really don’t give a damn where the meat comes from.” Not that Wessex couldn’t fend for herself, but fighting off an entire town by yourself usually didn’t go super well. ”Also it generally sucks, so avoid unless you can’t help it.” Though sometimes you needed shelter in a sudden blizzard and it just so happened to be the closest place.
The next question is a very broad and vague one, and Weaver thinks for a moment before replying. Not because she has many secrets, but really because she has so few of them. There is not all that much to tell. ”This is kind of it,” she says, gesturing to Halo in general. ”Born and raised here, my story is a whole lot like others you’ll hear. Three family members dead, just me and my younger brother now. I hunt for a living and he does most of the trading and crafting. When I’m not doing that, you’ll find me at the bar or someone’s bed. There’s not a lot to do here,” she says with a shrug, because it’s true. There’s not a lot to do in Halo, and there’s not even a lot of people to do in Halo. You run through the viable options quickly. ”Born Abandoned, or just developed powers so early I don’t know the difference. Useless little bit of magic.” Useless little bit of magic that means the gods ignore her...though she doesn’t say the last part of that thought. It’s the sort of thing she generally keeps to herself, particularly to a demi-god.
It’s a bit quieter with the market behind them, but Weaver’s house is close enough to the heart of the Citadel that there’s still a good bit of hustle and bustle (for Halo, anyway). She stops in front of an unassuming place that looks a whole lot like the houses around it, all squished together as houses in towns often are. Through the window a roaring fire is evident in the house and a glimpse of her brother going about his day. “This is it. You are welcome to come in for food and rest, though I assume you don’t actually need either of those things. Or just come in, I suppose.” Still, Weaver had some manners and had to offer.
”What does that mean for you, to be a demi-god?” The whole demi-god thing was a new development. Maybe they’d existed once, but not in recent history. Not so far as anyone in Halo had heard, anyway, and she is genuinely curious. She laughs at the next comment though. ”I am sure you will be just fine in the rest of Halo. Warning though, the people of Whitebrim are always hungry and they really don’t give a damn where the meat comes from.” Not that Wessex couldn’t fend for herself, but fighting off an entire town by yourself usually didn’t go super well. ”Also it generally sucks, so avoid unless you can’t help it.” Though sometimes you needed shelter in a sudden blizzard and it just so happened to be the closest place.
The next question is a very broad and vague one, and Weaver thinks for a moment before replying. Not because she has many secrets, but really because she has so few of them. There is not all that much to tell. ”This is kind of it,” she says, gesturing to Halo in general. ”Born and raised here, my story is a whole lot like others you’ll hear. Three family members dead, just me and my younger brother now. I hunt for a living and he does most of the trading and crafting. When I’m not doing that, you’ll find me at the bar or someone’s bed. There’s not a lot to do here,” she says with a shrug, because it’s true. There’s not a lot to do in Halo, and there’s not even a lot of people to do in Halo. You run through the viable options quickly. ”Born Abandoned, or just developed powers so early I don’t know the difference. Useless little bit of magic.” Useless little bit of magic that means the gods ignore her...though she doesn’t say the last part of that thought. It’s the sort of thing she generally keeps to herself, particularly to a demi-god.
It’s a bit quieter with the market behind them, but Weaver’s house is close enough to the heart of the Citadel that there’s still a good bit of hustle and bustle (for Halo, anyway). She stops in front of an unassuming place that looks a whole lot like the houses around it, all squished together as houses in towns often are. Through the window a roaring fire is evident in the house and a glimpse of her brother going about his day. “This is it. You are welcome to come in for food and rest, though I assume you don’t actually need either of those things. Or just come in, I suppose.” Still, Weaver had some manners and had to offer.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
