Look who finally left the temple

[celticromanstone]

Who: Heather... and YOU
Where: Market place
When: I'm open.
Warnings: Heather is a blanket warning and I'm sorry not sorry.

There is a decided lack of drink around here. So, Heather has decided to go talk to the people in the marketplaces, to see if someone has some stashed somewhere that they'd be willing to share.

She, however, is finding it very hard to communicate with the people of Vernos Bay who keep giving her shiny rocks until her pockets are overflowing. She doesn't want rocks, she wants booze. There's not even a good cuppa around here!

So, come find her, and she might not hate you.

Comments

[chaos_and_curls]

People keep avoiding him for some reason. Dodging into doorways, watching him with wide eyes. On occasion someone will toss a handful of sweets at him as if they're stones and they want him to go away. It's pretty off putting, if he'll be honest. But he's still too curious to be in much of a foul mood.

He does spot her though and gives her a charming enough smile.

"Hallo. How's it going?" Rather a banal attempt to start a conversation but he could use a jot of banality if it got him somewhere interesting.

[celticromanstone]

She still is on the hunt for something, anything to drink. Wine, moonshine, sour grapes, something!

Seeing the God of Dreams out and about, she nods to him. "Poorly. These poor people have no alcohol to make dealing with things easier." Of course, that means that she hasn't got anything either.

"How are you, Morpheus?"

[chaos_and_curls]

"Do they not? That's not what I heard." But he supposed who he talked to could be wrong. He blows out a breath. "As for myself I am thoroughly bored. Bored enough to learn how to become a lyreist, but alas, no captive audience."

[celticromanstone]

"Well, if you know of someplace, please do share, darling." Because she needs to get blind drunk to deal with being a goddess now.

"A lyre? I haven't heard one of those in -" She checks herself. "Well, a while. Why the lyre?"

[chaos_and_curls]

"Someone named Elliot is in charge of that." A shrug. "At least as far as I understand it. And didn't Morpheus play the lyre? I'm pretty sure he did." He scratches the back of his neck. "At least he did when I met him and he certainly wouldn't make a liar out of me." He is proud of that pun. Why do you ask?

[celticromanstone]

She raises an eyebrow at him. "You met Morpheus?" She's old, but not quite that old. She lets the pun pass. She is not going to get into that.

[chaos_and_curls]

"You haven't?" He raises his eyebrows even further. "As it happens yes, once or twice. We're not old friends. More like passing acquaintances."

[celticromanstone]

"No. I... am not quite old enough for that." She says, instead of what she wants to say. She's met some people of legend - thank you Khan of Khan's court - but she hasn't met Morpheus of all people.

[chaos_and_curls]

"Who says you need to be old? I could meet any number of heroes and legends and myths and personages and not age--oh-- m ore than a day at most." Are you intrigued. You should be. He may, in fact, be doing this on purpose.

[celticromanstone]

She arches an eyebrow at him. "And how do you propose to do such a thing?" She asks, curious. Yes, he's younger than her but that's not saying much.