"There are easier ways to make money," Agnes replies with a small snort. "But sure, if you're really desperate, I guess there is that."
She listens to Vordis quietly even if her eyes dart away every now and then, glancing outside, and then back at her. It's not so much a nervous tick but the way she is, always multitasking.
"Yeah, people are like that, aren't they?" she says calmly. "Always ready to just settle down and wait for the executioner. It's easier that way, you know?" Revolutionary minds are rare, mob mentality isn't. "So, you seem like the rational one of the crew then." Maybe the intelligent one as well. It remains to be seen.
"Nah, let it be. It'll settle in a minute. No point cranking it up now and then down later." She grins and fans herself some more. "Should enjoy the summer when it happens, yeah?" She grew up in the north were it's rarely warm.
"All three days of it, sure," she replies with a smile.
"So, how is your information-gathering about the crew?" she asks. "Successful?" She almost wonders why Agnes is so interested in knowing about them, being able to categorize them. Vordis, meanwhile, prefers to care about the nervous motion in Agnes' eyes, the way they flicker like the buzz of machinery. Long-limbed and pale-featured, there's something hearkening in the idea of her being covered in dark, slick engine grease. She thinks she'd like to paint that.
"Tell me about them," she requests, crossing her arms over her lap.
"Sure," Agnes says with a quick glance at Vordis. It doesn't take a genius to figure out most people. Just open eyes and a little bit of awareness. She's interested mostly because she's going to be spending quite a bit of time in cramped space with these people. If they turn out to be assholes, she would rather know before it comes as a surprise in a difficult situation.
"Well, silent and strong type in the corner there," she says and points at Grey, "is some kind of a nature loving shaman type. He seems like the real deal, too. Probably useful on a trip like this. His butt buddy, the paparazzi on the other hand I'm not so sure about. He seems like a loose cannon but a smart cookie nonetheless. Brother Russia has some language challenges, which will make things difficult, but I'm hoping his skill set will make up for it."
She gave Vordis a questioning look, probably wondering if she wanted to hear more.
Vordís wants to hear all that Agnes has to share, so of course she pauses as if waiting for her to continue. "I think that one has probably seen things we don't want to know about," she says. "Though I'm not sure how he became friends with Paparazzi. They don't seem like the type to get along. Maybe they went to school together," she muses.
"Russia over there looks lost. I think he might have signed up on the wrong trip; maybe his Finnish isn't too good." He really, really does look like a lost puppy most of the time, and Vordís did notice he had gotten two sandwiches and was looking around for someone to give the extra one to, settling finally on Grey. So maybe he was also doing reconnaissance, trying to figure out the quiet ones first.
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She listens to Vordis quietly even if her eyes dart away every now and then, glancing outside, and then back at her. It's not so much a nervous tick but the way she is, always multitasking.
"Yeah, people are like that, aren't they?" she says calmly. "Always ready to just settle down and wait for the executioner. It's easier that way, you know?" Revolutionary minds are rare, mob mentality isn't. "So, you seem like the rational one of the crew then." Maybe the intelligent one as well. It remains to be seen.
"Nah, let it be. It'll settle in a minute. No point cranking it up now and then down later." She grins and fans herself some more. "Should enjoy the summer when it happens, yeah?" She grew up in the north were it's rarely warm.
no subject
"So, how is your information-gathering about the crew?" she asks. "Successful?" She almost wonders why Agnes is so interested in knowing about them, being able to categorize them. Vordis, meanwhile, prefers to care about the nervous motion in Agnes' eyes, the way they flicker like the buzz of machinery. Long-limbed and pale-featured, there's something hearkening in the idea of her being covered in dark, slick engine grease. She thinks she'd like to paint that.
"Tell me about them," she requests, crossing her arms over her lap.
no subject
"Well, silent and strong type in the corner there," she says and points at Grey, "is some kind of a nature loving shaman type. He seems like the real deal, too. Probably useful on a trip like this. His butt buddy, the paparazzi on the other hand I'm not so sure about. He seems like a loose cannon but a smart cookie nonetheless. Brother Russia has some language challenges, which will make things difficult, but I'm hoping his skill set will make up for it."
She gave Vordis a questioning look, probably wondering if she wanted to hear more.
no subject
"Russia over there looks lost. I think he might have signed up on the wrong trip; maybe his Finnish isn't too good." He really, really does look like a lost puppy most of the time, and Vordís did notice he had gotten two sandwiches and was looking around for someone to give the extra one to, settling finally on Grey. So maybe he was also doing reconnaissance, trying to figure out the quiet ones first.