[ Nero laughs off the deep resentment that Estinien has for the people that protected Ambrose. His laughter is bright and melodious with a sharp nasally sound to it; thankfully, the irritating noise doesn't last for that long.
His nature is just that he doesn't mind what other people do sans one thing. He has no moral high ground to stand on top to judge anyone; he is a degenerate and a lover of murder. The most he ever does, or can do, is poke at the morality at others like a rat nibbling on a corpse's foot -- he's a creature that can't hurt someone who is above the gnawing bites. ]
I'm sure that they're thinking the same thing about us.
[ That, too, is just how it is. ]
So, that's what's eating you right now? What are you going to do in the future? Right now you're just licking your wounds until you go back to kill everyone?
[ The bartender shows up, then. By this time, the man is used to the manner in which Nero talks. His gaze is not tired as much as "oh, it's you, again;" the same dead stare a person gives to someone that they simply have to endure. But like the pretty girls of the tavern, the people feel safe and comfortable in Solvunn. They aren't afraid of whatever Nero says or could do, because the Gods and community protect them.
Should the elf act out of line, they are of the mind that someone -- something -- will deal with him. It may not be immediate justice but justice will come to Nero if he acts poorly. That is enough of a shield and comfort. ]
Emrys, can I please have some more -- [ The bartender ignores his question and fixes his attention on Estinien instead. ] -- aw.
[ It isn't that Emrys doesn't want his money, but just doesn't want Nero to stay any longer than he must -- attempting to shoo him away like a diseased mongrel. Of course, the bartender will let him back in after a few days; Nero does, after all, still does what he can to provide for the community and people. They can't fault him completely, but they can give themselves breaks from him. ]
no subject
[ Nero laughs off the deep resentment that Estinien has for the people that protected Ambrose. His laughter is bright and melodious with a sharp nasally sound to it; thankfully, the irritating noise doesn't last for that long.
His nature is just that he doesn't mind what other people do sans one thing. He has no moral high ground to stand on top to judge anyone; he is a degenerate and a lover of murder. The most he ever does, or can do, is poke at the morality at others like a rat nibbling on a corpse's foot -- he's a creature that can't hurt someone who is above the gnawing bites. ]
I'm sure that they're thinking the same thing about us.
[ That, too, is just how it is. ]
So, that's what's eating you right now? What are you going to do in the future? Right now you're just licking your wounds until you go back to kill everyone?
[ The bartender shows up, then. By this time, the man is used to the manner in which Nero talks. His gaze is not tired as much as "oh, it's you, again;" the same dead stare a person gives to someone that they simply have to endure. But like the pretty girls of the tavern, the people feel safe and comfortable in Solvunn. They aren't afraid of whatever Nero says or could do, because the Gods and community protect them.
Should the elf act out of line, they are of the mind that someone -- something -- will deal with him. It may not be immediate justice but justice will come to Nero if he acts poorly. That is enough of a shield and comfort. ]
Emrys, can I please have some more -- [ The bartender ignores his question and fixes his attention on Estinien instead. ] -- aw.
[ It isn't that Emrys doesn't want his money, but just doesn't want Nero to stay any longer than he must -- attempting to shoo him away like a diseased mongrel. Of course, the bartender will let him back in after a few days; Nero does, after all, still does what he can to provide for the community and people. They can't fault him completely, but they can give themselves breaks from him. ]