[Morgan quietly crosses over to… the bar counter, where he carefully takes out each item and places them in a line, one by one. The quiet consideration and delicate touch of a collector.
They’re nice items, each and every one. A few don’t even look as though they’re from this world, which is interesting in its own way — he appreciates that for what it is.
But then he unearths the urn, and… Ah. Morgan quirks a brow at Oren from where he stands.]
Heavens know we need that here.
[Calmed nerves. Jacob could use it. Amusement doesn’t quite strike at his core as hard as it should—nothing does, anymore—but he feels a shade of it.
He places it down, too, then goes around on the other side and leans his palms into the counter, looking over Oren.]
Of course, the last one you broke was a little more valuable than this, I assume. Because of the ashes. What a day that was — such a disappointment for my poor brother.
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They’re nice items, each and every one. A few don’t even look as though they’re from this world, which is interesting in its own way — he appreciates that for what it is.
But then he unearths the urn, and… Ah. Morgan quirks a brow at Oren from where he stands.]
Heavens know we need that here.
[Calmed nerves. Jacob could use it. Amusement doesn’t quite strike at his core as hard as it should—nothing does, anymore—but he feels a shade of it.
He places it down, too, then goes around on the other side and leans his palms into the counter, looking over Oren.]
Of course, the last one you broke was a little more valuable than this, I assume. Because of the ashes. What a day that was — such a disappointment for my poor brother.