"More sunshine and more mountains as you go west, yeah. Fewer people though. And old unseen things that speak in whispers on the wind." Not that Saintsmourn wasn't full of ancient things as well, eldritch creatures that hid often in plain sight, never noticed unless they chose to be, or unless something had gone very wrong.
In his line of work, Liam had learned to spot them. Hell, he was half sure he was on his way to becoming one, more and more darkness than human with every day that passed that saw him walking his path. That was a morose thought, and now was not the time for morose thoughts. Now was the time to look at those blue eyes -- the color of the sky beyond the shroud of mists -- and pretend he wasn't already half drowning in them.
He tore a piece of his half of the bearclaw, chewing thoughtfully. "But despite the gloom... there's definitely some positives about this place. The people, mostly." Even though New England had its reputations of a particularly unkind sort of population. That assessment wasn't really true. It got a subtle but important nuance wrong. New Englanders were, by and large, deeply kind people. They were not, however, nice. A proper New Englander would pull over to help a perfect stranger dig their car out of a snow bank without hesitating, but would spend most of that time informing the poor stuck soul how dumb they were to be out driving in the weather in the first place.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2025-05-17 05:23 am (UTC)In his line of work, Liam had learned to spot them. Hell, he was half sure he was on his way to becoming one, more and more darkness than human with every day that passed that saw him walking his path. That was a morose thought, and now was not the time for morose thoughts. Now was the time to look at those blue eyes -- the color of the sky beyond the shroud of mists -- and pretend he wasn't already half drowning in them.
He tore a piece of his half of the bearclaw, chewing thoughtfully. "But despite the gloom... there's definitely some positives about this place. The people, mostly." Even though New England had its reputations of a particularly unkind sort of population. That assessment wasn't really true. It got a subtle but important nuance wrong. New Englanders were, by and large, deeply kind people. They were not, however, nice. A proper New Englander would pull over to help a perfect stranger dig their car out of a snow bank without hesitating, but would spend most of that time informing the poor stuck soul how dumb they were to be out driving in the weather in the first place.
"You think you'll stick around here a while?"