The smile brings a similar one to Bruno's face. People tell him he's far too cute when he smiles, but he's never believed it. One hand rests on the knob of the French press, gradually pushing downward, swirling the water around the tea leaves.
"I do see that in visions--people rushing about everywhere. Nobody ever seems to take their time with things. It's kind of a chicken and egg, though, isn't it? Are people in a hurry because they can do things faster, or do they do things faster because they're more and more rushed? Maybe that isn't a question that can be answered."
He shakes his head and starts pouring the tea. "I'm getting philosophical."
No sooner does he set a cup down in front of Avery then a flicker of green light flashes across his eyes, accompanied by a flare of magic. His face goes blank for a beat, then he slips himself into an out-of-the-way chair at the same table, his own mug held securely in his hands. He blinks, then his eyes cut to the right.
There's the sound of a door opening and a multitude of footsteps.
"Meet the family," Bruno murmurs into his mug as eleven other people enter the room apparently in ascending order of age as the first one on the scene is a little boy of about six or so, then a collection of teenagers and young adults, followed by what's clearly their parents. Behind all of them is an old woman who positively radiates the Platonic ideal of matriarch. She remains quiet even as everyone else bursts into a babel of questions and exclamations....
no subject
"I do see that in visions--people rushing about everywhere. Nobody ever seems to take their time with things. It's kind of a chicken and egg, though, isn't it? Are people in a hurry because they can do things faster, or do they do things faster because they're more and more rushed? Maybe that isn't a question that can be answered."
He shakes his head and starts pouring the tea. "I'm getting philosophical."
No sooner does he set a cup down in front of Avery then a flicker of green light flashes across his eyes, accompanied by a flare of magic. His face goes blank for a beat, then he slips himself into an out-of-the-way chair at the same table, his own mug held securely in his hands. He blinks, then his eyes cut to the right.
There's the sound of a door opening and a multitude of footsteps.
"Meet the family," Bruno murmurs into his mug as eleven other people enter the room apparently in ascending order of age as the first one on the scene is a little boy of about six or so, then a collection of teenagers and young adults, followed by what's clearly their parents. Behind all of them is an old woman who positively radiates the Platonic ideal of matriarch. She remains quiet even as everyone else bursts into a babel of questions and exclamations....