"it's a lonely night" he stands there, hands in his pocket & watching the empty dark streets. it's much too late when the city has a strange silence to it & things feel unreal. somehow when he saw ramses he thought of the word lonely. "do you wanna come to the flower shop? I can make you some excellent tea."
ALTHOUGH RAMSES DID NOT like to ponder it, he was indeed a lonely man. His long lifespan meant that he had seen people come and go -- watched children become adults, and then from there, fade as all things must do one day...save for himself. Magic could make him look like he was aging like any other, yet he was perpetually trapped as he was; young in appearance, old in both mind and spirit. While all things changed around him, he remained the same, and he loathed it with every fiber of his being. How could he have foolishly desired this so long ago? He could not even ask his gods himself, for they would not, or could not, answer him. Was this his punishment for desiring the lifespan of a god? Fingers idly played with a lapis lazuli he kept in his pocket, calloused digits caressing smooth stone as he watched the moon in deep thought.
It was not until Romani spoke that he regained focus, his attention shifting over to them. ❝Out for a walk at this hour?❞ he asked, slight amusement heard within his tone as whatever pensive expression he had worn was quickly replaced by usual mischief. ❝I almost wonder if you live in that flower shop, Romani. Ah...but I suppose since I have nothing else to do, some tea would be nice.❞ It would be a distraction.