pauses at the edge of the underworld and glances back at the sun with a frown. Honestly, he very much does want news of the war...
The idea of being driven back beneath the surface so quickly has him bristling.
Fran
is
running late, sorry.
As he can see.
would like to make a point that it wasn't his fault...
purses his lips. And why was that? He's in a bitchy mood.
blames lightning.
Fran
has
bad excuses, yes.
...has a weird enough sense of humour to chortle. "Fine. Fine. Well?"
sighs. Why is this his job again? "None dead."
lips pull into a deep frown. "Then the war is over." Glooooom.
shrugs. "Maybe."
Daemon
gives
him a weird look. "...You aren't sure?"
looks at his nails. "Meh, Sparta and Athens are pissing each other off again."
snorts. Again, so soon after Helene's war?
isn't surprised. They have "issues".
tries to keep his composure. These mud things are amusing.
Fran
has
another message. "Oh yeah, and cloaks are going out of season."
stares at him flatly. Say that with a cloak laid over your dead god body.
shrugs. "I don't make the news; I just report it."
Daemon
thinks
there are reasons messengers get killed for their messages sometimes. He cracks his knuckles. Don't push it.
rolls his eyes. "Just letting you know...."
tilts his head. "And?"
Fran
thinks
his fashion sense is already outdated enough.....