[Much shorter than Harrow! Gnomes are about three feet tall. Though there’s a few halflings (slightly taller) and humans too. Lights flicker on in the distance though, revealing tall, leaning buildings that look almost cobbled together from ragged pieces of metal.
There’s a beat of silence, and then Molly turns to her for a second.]
Okay, cover your ears.
[He isn’t doing that though. Almost on cue, a steam whistle goes off. Then another, and another and another until it’s all down the street as doors to buildings and factories start slamming open and a multitude pours out into the street - again, mostly the gnomes, but human and elf and dwarf and halfing mixed in - and the change in tone is immediate. People are obviously hurrying home, tearing off working jackets or letting hair down before pushing through into the crowd or just scattering out to start the festivities, but it’s clear that this is a party.]
[Covering her ears! What the hell is this. She's not - she's not used to being around this many people, let alone at a party, so she looks kind of nervous. But not like, this is traumatic to me nervous, just, nerdy teenager who doesn't go to parties nervous.]
[ This is, apparently, Molly’s very happy place, because he is grinning ear to ear. The crowd doesn’t push them or anything, but they are close by, milling around - tiny gnome children with sparklers and ribbons run by, drinks are already being passed out to folks on the street, barkers advertising food to passersby. A pop noise goes off, followed by loud cheers, and another quick pop pop pop until it’s clear it’s tiny glitter bombs. Molly just waves to someone who’s running by and they wave back brightly, blowing him a kiss.]
Wait for it.
[Then he stops and looks up. A high-pitched whistle pieces the noise, and the crowd quiets down for the moment of anticipation before the deep rumbling BANG of multicolored fireworks erupts across the skyline. The crowd cheers, even louder than before.]
Still amazing! Have you ever seen anything like that before?
[No? She hasn't ever seen this many living people together in one place before? But she's getting less nervous now; it's a simulation, after all. None of these people are anything more than an illusion, and they aren't really reacting to her or making her feel self-conscious.
She'll even brave looking up at the fireworks, watching them with a little more interest.]
[The fireworks continue, waxing and waning in force and ferocity, but they also never seem to stop. Molly stops at one of the stands, looking through the jewelry on display with interest as if it’s actually there.]
We stopped here right before—- Wasn’t that long ago. Should have stayed longer.
[Before he died, then? She suddenly feels a little sad, and she isn't sure why. Some ghost of a feeling that relates to his, which she can't quite place.]
[Since this is based on a memory - through the crowd, a blue tiefling girl spins past waving sparklers and giggling madly, followed by the more familiar face of Beau chasing off after her, both of them disappearing into the throng after a moment - but the image doesn’t follow them for now.]
[That’s fine, that’s good enough. He’ll move them through the crowd then, though I’m not sure how the VR works with that. Do you just walk or do you have to change it. Mystery. Doesn’t really matter, he’s been messing with this thing all day so he’s gotten pretty good at it - stopping briefly at a stand covered in extravagant floral creations - flower crowns and bouquets and weaved strands of silk petals. Picking them up admiringly.]
I made this up. I wasn’t able to find it that night, funnily. Drunk off my own tail. But I wanted to bring some back for Yasha! It was terrible, we left her to babysitting. Not such a fan of crowds though, so perhaps it was for the best.
[Because she asks when he’s standing there at the podium, thinking about it, the simulation blips for just a moment -
The back of a cart along a quiet forest road, light chatter. A few horses at the front. Bird song and sunshine. Against the side of the cart a woman sits, greatsword next to her, staring a bit awkwardly at a orange tiger-striped cat that’s planted itself in her lap, purring loudly and pressing its paws against her leg to knead it. In a voice that’s much softer than her appearance would suggest, lightly accented:
‘Ah, Caleb? It’s doing something?’
And then it flicks back to the scene before, Harrow holding the bouquet still.]
[She's startled by the sudden change on scenery, shielding her eyes with a hand at the sunlight automatically, though it's not so bright as to hurt her eyes. When the scene switches back, she blinks again at the rapid change.]
. . . Yasha? It does that, draws on thoughts you weren't meaning to have.
If I don't know them, what opinion am I to have? If I tell you Ortus Ninegad composes dreadful poetry, will you appreciate knowing that even though the name can mean nothing to you?
. . . He was composing an epic poem celebrating our House's greatest warrior, Matthias Nonius. But his scansion was appalling. You cannot say Nonius has either two or three syllables depending on the verse.
[She thinks for a moment, and then recites, from memory - ]
Then did the dire bone frenzy fall upon Nonius, the mightiest arm of the Ninth and it's bulwark; Spasmed his veins with death lust; his great heart roared like a black iron furnace, hungry for corpses. Baleful the black blade struck at the shimmering stuff of the spectral beast, biting deep in it's false flesh. Shrieking, it flailed with its claws at the pauldrons and casque of the Ninth, yet his heart never faltered or failed him.
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[Much shorter than Harrow! Gnomes are about three feet tall. Though there’s a few halflings (slightly taller) and humans too. Lights flicker on in the distance though, revealing tall, leaning buildings that look almost cobbled together from ragged pieces of metal.
There’s a beat of silence, and then Molly turns to her for a second.]
Okay, cover your ears.
[He isn’t doing that though. Almost on cue, a steam whistle goes off. Then another, and another and another until it’s all down the street as doors to buildings and factories start slamming open and a multitude pours out into the street - again, mostly the gnomes, but human and elf and dwarf and halfing mixed in - and the change in tone is immediate. People are obviously hurrying home, tearing off working jackets or letting hair down before pushing through into the crowd or just scattering out to start the festivities, but it’s clear that this is a party.]
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[Covering her ears! What the hell is this. She's not - she's not used to being around this many people, let alone at a party, so she looks kind of nervous. But not like, this is traumatic to me nervous, just, nerdy teenager who doesn't go to parties nervous.]
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Wait for it.
[Then he stops and looks up. A high-pitched whistle pieces the noise, and the crowd quiets down for the moment of anticipation before the deep rumbling BANG of multicolored fireworks erupts across the skyline. The crowd cheers, even louder than before.]
Still amazing! Have you ever seen anything like that before?
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[No? She hasn't ever seen this many living people together in one place before? But she's getting less nervous now; it's a simulation, after all. None of these people are anything more than an illusion, and they aren't really reacting to her or making her feel self-conscious.
She'll even brave looking up at the fireworks, watching them with a little more interest.]
What is it? Some kind of celebration?
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[The fireworks continue, waxing and waning in force and ferocity, but they also never seem to stop. Molly stops at one of the stands, looking through the jewelry on display with interest as if it’s actually there.]
We stopped here right before—- Wasn’t that long ago. Should have stayed longer.
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It's beautiful. Excessively noisey.
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[Since this is based on a memory - through the crowd, a blue tiefling girl spins past waving sparklers and giggling madly, followed by the more familiar face of Beau chasing off after her, both of them disappearing into the throng after a moment - but the image doesn’t follow them for now.]
Do you dance?
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No.
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Will you at least go watch the dancing?
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[She'll just stand on the sidelines like the goth kid at a middle school dance.]
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I made this up. I wasn’t able to find it that night, funnily. Drunk off my own tail. But I wanted to bring some back for Yasha! It was terrible, we left her to babysitting. Not such a fan of crowds though, so perhaps it was for the best.
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Yasha?
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The back of a cart along a quiet forest road, light chatter. A few horses at the front. Bird song and sunshine. Against the side of the cart a woman sits, greatsword next to her, staring a bit awkwardly at a orange tiger-striped cat that’s planted itself in her lap, purring loudly and pressing its paws against her leg to knead it. In a voice that’s much softer than her appearance would suggest, lightly accented:
‘Ah, Caleb? It’s doing something?’
And then it flicks back to the scene before, Harrow holding the bouquet still.]
Shit, sorry.
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. . . Yasha? It does that, draws on thoughts you weren't meaning to have.
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[Very deliberately pulling his hand off the podium for the moment.]
That was Yasha. [And then, because he can’t help himself.] Did you know Beau has a big crush on her? Hilarious.
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[She's only talked to Beau a few times and literally just saw Yasha?]
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Really? I like gossip about all kinds of people, but whatever your preference.
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[That's an opinion to have.]
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[She thinks for a moment, and then recites, from memory - ]
Then did the dire bone frenzy fall upon Nonius, the mightiest arm of the Ninth and it's bulwark;
Spasmed his veins with death lust; his great heart roared like a black iron furnace, hungry for corpses.
Baleful the black blade struck at the shimmering stuff of the spectral beast, biting deep in it's false flesh.
Shrieking, it flailed with its claws at the pauldrons and casque of the Ninth, yet his heart never faltered or failed him.
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Secondly, what the fuck?]
. . . Bone frenzy?
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I do get the impression this person is fucking corpses. I'm only pointing it out as artistic commentary to a clearly great work.
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No, no. No desecration of corpses, merely the written word.
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[ . . . ]
What were we doing? You distracted me.
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