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.
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