The truth is, I could use the company right now -- I've gone wandering this week, like some other monsters. If I seem odd, or try to leave abruptly...please stop me by any means necessary, short of my death.
[All of this is said in a quiet, practical tone, as though he were saying, if it starts to rain, I'll need you to get the umbrella, because I can't reach it, instead of confessing a horrifying loss of agency. But, with that out of the way...]
But I knew the difficult fogs would come back eventually. May and June were more or less peaceful...it couldn't last much longer. You'll likely return to your usual monster type soon, too...
[Matter of fact, practical, calm. None of the openness of their talk in a simulated palace garden, or the raw emotion when the network had connected their minds. There's a gulf here, and while it's not unbridgable...this conversation will determine whether or not that bridge will be built.
That scarf floats around his neck, very nearly as light as air. It's Fog-gray, and wisps of it seem to blow off and fade at the edges; even if Trish doesn't know what it means, it's clearly magic.]
no subject
The truth is, I could use the company right now -- I've gone wandering this week, like some other monsters. If I seem odd, or try to leave abruptly...please stop me by any means necessary, short of my death.
[All of this is said in a quiet, practical tone, as though he were saying, if it starts to rain, I'll need you to get the umbrella, because I can't reach it, instead of confessing a horrifying loss of agency. But, with that out of the way...]
But I knew the difficult fogs would come back eventually. May and June were more or less peaceful...it couldn't last much longer. You'll likely return to your usual monster type soon, too...
[Matter of fact, practical, calm. None of the openness of their talk in a simulated palace garden, or the raw emotion when the network had connected their minds. There's a gulf here, and while it's not unbridgable...this conversation will determine whether or not that bridge will be built.
That scarf floats around his neck, very nearly as light as air. It's Fog-gray, and wisps of it seem to blow off and fade at the edges; even if Trish doesn't know what it means, it's clearly magic.]