Spice of her fucking life. Spice was disgusting. It made her tongue tingle and that was never a pleasant feeling. Sloane liked the amount of spice in her life like she like horse shit on her hooves. She hated it. Give her some dull and boring any day. At least with dull and boring, she didn’t have to worry about messing up her hair or looking grungy. At least with dull and boring, she also didn’t have to talk to people. Socializing was also NOT her cup of tea. Then again, Sloane didn’t really have a cup of tea to begin with.

There was very little in life that Sloane enjoyed. Enjoyment was for pussies and she did not think she fell into that category. But unlike most days, when she wallowed away in self pity on her private little island, Sloane was exploring. Most of the time, Sloane did not like exploring. It was unfamiliar territory and yet, she did somewhat like the idea of possibly stumbling onto secrets. You know, the kind that get people killed. Sloane was an expert snooper, an Olympic eavesdropper, a masterful spy (or so she thought).

She had meandered down into the plains (really, she came here because the terrain was flat…and Sloane hated any sort of workout) in search of anything interesting. Sloane, my dear reader, is pretty much the vulture of Novus. She sticks around to inhale all the gossip so she can go around spreading rumors and starting shit. She likes to make life chaotic for others, but never for herself.

She can see this fluffy winged thing and decides that she is not interesting enough to bother. And so, she begins to trudge past her in search of someone a little more flavorful when she hears the other nicker. It was like a cute little nicker. What about Sloane made it seem like she wanted to be bothered, let a lone nickered at? Nothing. Not a damn thing. And yet, here she was, being nickered at. It took everything in Sloane to keep her reaction to only the rolling of her eyes. "Can I help you?" Her tone was less than pleasant or amused. She only offered the mare a smidge of attention. What could she possibly want?

@Willoughby – SO SORRY YOU ARE STUCK WITH MY CRABBY PATTIE

If she didn’t need help, then why in the hell was she trying to get Sloane’s attention? Sloane had never been the sort to be overly friendly. Hell, she couldn’t really be considered the least bit friendly. There were only a handful of people on Novus who actually tolerated her company. But that was sort of how Sloane liked it. No one bothered her and she didn’t generally bother anyone else unless she saw something in them that interested her. This little mare looked far too happy and chipper to hold any sort of dark secrets that might interest Sloane.

Sloane was about ready to just ignore her since she didn’t need help, but she kept talking. Ears flattened firmly against her skull, a testament to her agitation. On this particular morning, Sloane was being more anti-social than normal. But somehow, this mare thought she wanted to be talked to. With a heaving sigh, Sloane turned to glare at her. "I rather like being ignored." Whether or not the girl thought it was rude to ignore her, Sloane rather liked the quiet. If she didn’t have anything to say to you, she wouldn’t say it. Unfortunately, too many individuals were taught to have actual manners and to be friendly. Why couldn’t people just mind their own damn business?

At her statement about her not being offended if she went about her business, Sloane smirked. Well, now she had been interrupted. She was annoyed and irritable and leaving the scene seemed too damn easy. This mare would learn what it was like to poke at Sloane without any real intent. "I’m not really in the mood to give you that satisfaction of watching me walk away." Now it was her mission to annoy the shit out of her.

Sloane turned to fully walk towards the mare so she might get a better look at her. Eyes bored into the other mare, scanning her and scrutinizing every inch of her. "So…what brings you here?" Her words were slurred, her tone seeping with every ounce of effort that went into chit chat. Sloane hated chit chat. And yet, the idea of walking away annoyed her even more. Chit chat it was, then.

@Willoughby

Well, she might not find joy or satisfaction is forcing a conversation, but Sloane certainly did. There was noting more pleasing to the black mare than to see the discomfort present when she tries to force a conversation with someone who would much rather spend their company with someone far more pleasant. Just the idea that she could rub people wrong was enough to make a smirk pull at the corners of her lips. Yes, Sloane rather liked being a thorn in a person’s side. And since this mare had started the conversation, Sloane would not give in. She would force this conversation, even if there were better things she could be doing. Why then would she continue? Simply because she can.

Sloane only half listened to what the other was saying, only because she really wasn’t that vested in this conversation. And yet, there was something interesting about what she said. She wanted to learn all about Novus and the court and the gods…because she found it all fascinating. "Bullshit is more like it." Sloane had never cared much for Novus. The varying landscape was confusing to navigate and made her constantly use muscles that she swore she had never used in her life. And the gods? They didn’t have any power here. Sloane didn’t believe in Gods or higher powers. "We were born. We live. We die. We decay or we get eaten by scavengers. There’s nothing else and no one to care." Sloane had a pretty dim view of life, so naturally, it wasn’t a far-fetched idea that she didn’t believe in something beyond herself.

But the mare continues, mumbling something about being a vagabond. Sloane had heard of these types of people. They mostly wandered around, unable to attach themselves to any one court. Perhaps Sloane should become one. When she arrived in Novus, she wasn’t given that option. She was forced to plant herself and she had chosen Delumine, which was really a sad excuse for a court if you had to ask her.

But no one asked her, but Sloane would give her opinion anyway. "You’re probably better off being a nobody." At least she didn’t have to worry about kings or queens or threats that someone might come and steal your private island right from underneath your hooves. For someone who hated physical violence, there were many occasions recently where Sloane had to defend her island that Somnus had given her. She’d been through three, soon to be four, sovereigns and she had to have the same damn discussion for them all. Couldn’t they just leave her and her island alone? Life would be so much better for everyone.

@Willoughby

Who the fuck would want to respect a culture that surrounded false gods? It was hard for Sloane to respect anyone on even the best of days, but to respect a culture in which she finds to be utterly laughable? No, she simply could not do that. This mare was far too tolerant but perhaps that’s what Novus liked. Novus seemed to welcome individuals who seemed to accept how things were without making any sort of ruffle. Sloane ruffled. Sloane was like a giant bolder thrown into a quiet pool of water. She made splashes in a big way and it annoyed the hell out of people around her. She rather liked her place in life. She went to bed easily at night. But if this mare wanted to be kind and respectful, she supposed that was her prerogative.

The chuckle, however, that came from her lips nearly made Sloane groan. It was like hearing nails raking down a chalkboard. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. "To each their own, I guess." She shrugged her shoulders as she simply allowed the subject to drop. It wasn’t often that she allowed such a thing to happen, so this mare in front of her better appreciate it for what it was. She didn’t have to say anything about it, but she needed to realize that what just happened between the two of them was probably as close to “being the bigger person” that Sloane ever did. A real feat indeed.

But then the mare, she supposed she should start calling her Willoughby (even if it was a fruity sort of name), starting talking about pimping herself out by singing and telling stories. Boring. Who would pay to see that? No Sloane…definitely not Sloane. And yet, there were other ways to make money. "You’re better off selling your ass on the street corner. You’ll probably make more than yapping during story time." Sloane could probably work the streets too, if she wanted. But Sloane found more pleasure in a different sort of pastime. "Though, I pay good money for dark secrets. So if you come across any, I’m all ears." You see, Sloane bought and sold secrets. You know, the kind that ripped families apart and divided whole courts. Nothing about what Sloane did gave any sort of warm fuzzy feeling. All it caused was tears, pain, and sometimes death and war. Sloane rather liked to see what her secrets could do. "I also sell them…for the right price." Sloane didn’t just give away her secrets for free. She was a hustler just like the next individual. She might not admit it, but the fallout of her hustling was really the only thing that seemed to make her smile these days.

However, it didn’t seem like Willoughby seemed to appreciate her advice about being a nobody. She seemed like she was like every other Joe Schmoe out here. She wanted to be someone, to be a name people heard on the street and instantly recognized. Sloane had no desire for that sort of fame. Some people liked it. Some people liked to be known everywhere. But for Sloane, there was a reason her magic allowed her to disappear… "Just don’t get a stick up your ass – it’s undesirable." She smirked, one of those smirks hat indicated she was being highly sarcastic and yet truthful at the same time. She could take Sloane’s advice or leave it.

Whores were just a fact of life. When you are so poor that you can’t afford to eat, you’d be surprised at what people stoop to doing. It’s the only way people feel as though they can pull themselves out of the hole they found themselves in. Some sold their bodies, but others stooped to her level, selling her their secrets. It was amazing what even the most respectable people could dish out when they were offered coin.

Willoughby didn’t seem to believe her offer when she offered secrets. It was cute, really. Was she really naïve enough to think that only shady people had good secrets to dish out? "Princess, you’d be surprised at the things individuals at the top of the totem pole say in order to better their position in life. I don’t count you out of the mix. I don’t have to like you, but I can still respect good business." She had been told things that most would never think to come from a king’s mouth, a pious denoctian, or even a monk. The gossip she had heard in life told her that even though someone looks completely put together on the outside and might play the part better than a Hollywood actress, that did not mean that they didn’t have things that Sloane might be interested in.

But despite Sloane’s attempt to have a real discussion with the mare, Willoughby seemed to have enough. Sloane was pretty used to seeing people run for the hills after even a few moments of her time. Honestly, she thought Willoughby might would have lasted a hair longer. She was wrong, pity.

But what caught her attention was the way she thought she knew what Sloane’s ultimate goal was. Did she stick around just to annoy the mare, maybe. But really, the reason had nothing to do with Willoughby at all. Sloane did not like to back down. She did not like to seem like she was bothered. In fact, Sloane simply wanted the last word. She wasn’t expecting anger or discontent, she simply wanted to be the one to outlast the conversation. It was simple, really. "Who are you to think you know the reason I stuck around talking to you?" She had no clue, but she sure as hell thought she did. She thought she knew Sloane. She thought she knew that Sloane didn’t care about the conversation they were having. Was it true? Perhaps slightly. Sloane didn’t much care about anyone at all, but she did care if they had something to offer Sloane. "Truthfully, I’m not interested in much of anything. I did, however, share with you what I was interested in…which is more than a lot of people get." Ungrateful bitch. She had no idea what she was missing out on. However, as Sloane stated before. She didn’t care much about Willoughby, so she didn’t really care that the other was trying to tell her off in a nice way. If she had the balls enough to say what she wanted to her face, maybe Sloane might respect her a hair more.

Sloane watched as the other mare took her exit, a chuckle reverberated in the back of her throat. "Have fun being a nobody." In fact, Sloane wasn’t even sure she’d remember the mare’s name, let alone this conversation. It wasn’t very fruitful. Shame. And so, with the knowledge that she finally had the last word, Sloane turned and headed back to the island she called home. A glass of whisky and some cake was calling her name.

@Willoughby