✧･ﾟ:*

     “jack…” pandora repeats the name briefly – and it sounds slightly awkward, as if one was recanting some spell in unknown tongue. there’s a thinking noise before it dawns on her. “oh, jackie. right.” of course, she never used that name for the child. her brain was hardstuck on anubis - or rather - inpu, as she’s been corrected in the past. no actually, maybe instead of the father she should have just gone to the son with this…?

     yet set already seems eager enough as it is, all things considered. “well yeah, of course they’d hate it. it usually means they got outsmarted or outplayed. if you ask me, i always thought of most of them as control freaks.” at least the ones she knew personally. “and uh, shit. if you’re taking this seriously, i guess i have to too.” but gods, would it be embarrassing to simply show up to the client again after already turning her down. so with grumbling she looks once again at her phone screen, conflict resting upon her face now. “i’ll just text her real quick and say i just got an 'expert’s' opinion now, and to absolutely not tell her friend about anything.”

     "I wouldn't know if I'd call him a control freak though, but I can't say shit for the guy they hang out with. Seems normal and adjusted but he's Greek so." and you shrug, as if letting Pandora know that you're somewhat aware of the complicated and whimsical nature of her country's gods (even if you aren't that much better, come on). "Kid just hates unnecessary workload, and if I'm not mistaken, things are not quick down there for him. The whole heart weighing and all."

     ❝ what, you interested? because you know if it is a ‘spirit or ghost or whatever’ i don’t think you can just punch it out. ❞ …or maybe he could? there were still a lot of things pandora didn’t quite know about how the ennead ‘functioned’. how grand were their spheres of influence and were they all simply free to use whatever strengths they had across realms? if so, she’d actually like to see it.

     with a shrug of her shoulders, she decides she might as well speak more if he’s willing to hear it. ❝ like i said, i don’t deal with that kind of stuff, so i wouldn’t know. but her friend told me that apparently she believes she made contact with someone from ‘beyond the grave’ in her dreams. and that they’ll give her secret knowledge or something, as long as she brings them back to life. ❞ there’s a hand waved in dismissal as she continues to explain. ❝ but they only started recently, the dreams, so i’m not convinced that it’s something serious. and if it is, well i can’t actually do anything about it. ❞ pandora didn’t have the ability to hop around into what others might call the ‘dreamworld’ - and while she technically knew someone else that could help, vying a demon’s help on a whim would get her the tonguelashing of a lifetime.

     "If I didn't know you better I'd think this is a lame joke," spoken through giggles and cackles; you steady yourself unnaturally quickly, only a cruel and greedy smile adorning your lips. "That thing is damn lucky that Jack's out of town for a few days. Those gods that deal with stiffs re-eally hate the whole 'bringing back to life' shtick, and I'd at least have some decency to let that guy yap a word or two before it's gone for the second time." for once, you were not lying when you've called yourself decent. a miracle, no less!

       the dash of annoyance is clear on her face as she’s turned around, but gradually softens when she sees exactly who it is. “seriously, man? you’re lucky i don’t swing first sometimes.” …she does, just she knows a bit better to do it here of all places.

       soon there’s a small grin on her face as well as swelling pride in her chest. “i didn’t realize you were waiting for me though. should’ve called me if you were that bored.” she wags her phone in her free hand, before speaking once more. “and nothing crazy today, just dealing with some insistent ‘client’. swears her friend is possessed or whatever. i tried explaining to her that i don’t deal with that kind of stuff, but i got forced to ‘check it out’ anyway.”

     the sob story about the failed client almost passes your ears, and you are quite inclined to roll your eyes at it —you kinda don't give a damn about it. people do stupid shit all the time, so you've learned to let it go with almost no consequences to the offender. almost being the key word.

    "You know it's damn noon, everyone's only starting to wake up from their party nights. There's nothing to do and," you yawn, barely covering your mouth with your hand, "I don't feel like helping out with shit." the shit being one of your duties, but hey, the world isn't gonna collapse if you laze around for an hour or two.