(no subject)
Kassandra has her map unfurled again. As she studies it, she attempts to smoke a large and ungainly cigar, in the manner of John Constantine.
She hasn't really got the knack, and eventually there is a pile of cinders on her map and a distinct smell of tobacco wreathing the vicinity. When the cigar has burnt off into submission, she takes the resultant mess onto her fingers, and begins smudging some vague, Kassandric lexicon across the map.
She hasn't really got the knack, and eventually there is a pile of cinders on her map and a distinct smell of tobacco wreathing the vicinity. When the cigar has burnt off into submission, she takes the resultant mess onto her fingers, and begins smudging some vague, Kassandric lexicon across the map.