“Telling your entire group that I can see fate, having no sense of
direction…” she counted off on her fingers, “Yeah, you must be very
busy!”
Charlotte being Charlotte, she did sort of feel bad for the
uncontrollable snark. So she followed it up with: “So how did your
meeting with Miss Saint Deity go? Anything exciting? Does she look
like the statue in Darmenhagen?”
“Yeah, it’s like… yknow if you have yarn or something, it’s got
smaller strings that make up the larger thread? Usually it’s not
like that, but you’ve got…” she made an arbitrary wavy motion with
her hand. “A lot of those. Now I know for a fact you’re not a
normal person, so it sort of makes sense. They’re awfully chatty,
too. A lot of threads will only sort of communicate with me if it’s
important, but yours are dying to spill the tea. Some are speaking
in full, articulate sentences—though I can’t understand half of
them because they’re in different languages.”
"And what about us?" For just a small gag, Iteral did two things:
Pretend that her broom is an elevator that slowly lifts up to the
roof and summon two copies, as they see three of her of ages
twenty-one, forty-four and seventy-five. "The Seamstress of Fate
and the Mingler of Timelines. A nice combo."
You know the first rule in combat?
Shoot them before they shoot you.
Charlotte glared at him. “You have thoughts and feelings, and an
awareness of those around you and yourself. Person,” she finished
her sentence before turning the the newcomer.
“Seamstress? I can only see fate, I can’t manipulate it. More like
‘powerless to change her circumstances.’ You’re the… Itri person,
right? Or something like that.”
Two of the Iterals sigh, while the third one, the oldest, just
laughs a little like a grandmother. "We know that. It's about
impressions, you know? Maybe we should ease things in, I'm sure you
didn't tell the Saint or the angel down there that you stabbed God
either, did you?" Iteral laughs a bit, snapping and returning the
other two. Now she was alone on her broom again. "Iteral. Though
people call me Itty or... well, a variety of insults. And
you're...?"
You know the first rule in combat?
Shoot them before they shoot you.
“Charlotte, or Charlie. Whichever you prefer. Traveler of the
world, known by all and loved by very few. Nice to meet you,
Itarals. I’m horrible with names, so you’ll have to constantly
remind me if I look at you with a blank stare. Not at your service,
but maybe at your side if you don’t mind hyperactivity and
cynicism.” She flashed a grin.
"Well, I was able to like him." She points at Kendo. "So I am sure
we can get along just fine. I'm the Traveler of Times. So..." She
floats closer, curious. "What's my fate look like?"
You know the first rule in combat?
Shoot them before they shoot you.