Bet you'd be great at the xylophone. [harrow is not going to recognize the bar of spooky scary skeletons that they play on the violin, but they do it regardless.] Wow, sounds pretty uh, Fantasy Catholic of you.
. . . I might like that. It feels a little odd, to not have my necromancy to work on. The logic and technical work of an instrument might suffice to fill the gap.
Despair is rather. . . [How to put it. When the actual answer is that she wants them to like her but instead gets a sense of faint disapproval.] I didn't think I ought to take up their time with frivolous conversation.
[She didn't say pretentious (how could she, she's so pretentious) and she didn't say she wanted to be liked!! How uncool, to care about that!!!! She gets obviously a little pinched and embarrassed when Wrath says they like her.]
That isn't. . . what I meant. I don't want to waste their time. I've already monopolized it what with all of my. [Gestures at her head? Brain problems?] Tedious questions of how to fulfill my end of the bargain given my inability to actually fixate on the type of memory I'm meant to fixate on.
That's, uh. That's a losing battle, with them. [no, they will not explain that.] We can just leave them out of it. Do a girl's night with violins and uh, talking about bones, and death.
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Aw, thanks. Sweet of you. [they hold the violin very gently, almost like cradling a baby.]
Do you play anything?
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[A wry smile at that? Does that even count as a joke?]
We don't go in much for the arts on the Ninth, I'm afraid. The closest we come are the cloister bells and the hymnals of the black anchorites.
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Bet you'd be great at the xylophone. [harrow is not going to recognize the bar of spooky scary skeletons that they play on the violin, but they do it regardless.] Wow, sounds pretty uh, Fantasy Catholic of you.
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[What an odd thing to say.]
Well, we are a religious order.
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I'm glad you're getting to experience a little bit of culture otherwise then! Maybe I can teach you to play something sometime.
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For sure! For sure. If you want lessons, I'm you Avatar. [...] Maybe I can wrangle Despair into helping out, too, sometime?
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[I saw that thread. I just don't know that Harrow did.]
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[be nice, wrath.] They don't like small talk, but I'm pretty sure they like you? And it wouldn't be you taking up time, I can ask them.
They're like, incapable of saying no to me, so!
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That isn't. . . what I meant. I don't want to waste their time. I've already monopolized it what with all of my. [Gestures at her head? Brain problems?] Tedious questions of how to fulfill my end of the bargain given my inability to actually fixate on the type of memory I'm meant to fixate on.
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That's, uh. That's a losing battle, with them. [no, they will not explain that.] We can just leave them out of it. Do a girl's night with violins and uh, talking about bones, and death.
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When you said it would be a girl's night, the bones and death were self-evident.
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Right! What's a sleepover if you aren't up at three in the morning talking about boys and also femurs?
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