He popped one in his own mouth, excuse him a moment of ecstasy as he sucked on what was essentially maple flavored sugar. But he did hear what was said.

"Dominic Deegan. Former oracle for hire. More recently a teacher of oracular studies." He removed his small glasses and polished them on his scarf. "It isn't my powers that gave me problems," he said, gesturing subtly with the now cleaned glasses before settling them on his nose again. "Our powers we can learn to live with, learn to control. We can train and grow. It was the people. And controlling other people... well...."

He will leave it at the implication that they shouldn't or wouldn't or couldn't. As for he himself? He did. With regularity.

"One town where I set up for a while I received the usual idiocy that nearly drove me up a wall. The people would ask for visions about if they were going to lose their hair, or win a duel, or one time I recall... a young man who asked me, rather than a doctor or a healer, why he hurt whenever he touched his face, but also whenever he touched his leg. He had a broken finger."

See how impressed Dominic isn't.

"As long as people know you will produce visions for them, they will flock to you for answers they could have found for themselves. I stayed in it a while, for the few who genuinely needed me. But when I was chased from the town, I'll be honest... it was freeing for a time."

He wished he had his pipe. This was a pipe moment for sure. He still hadn't quite forgiven his brother for healing his blackened smoker's lungs.