PC: HARROW

[headmt]

Comments

[bonetiddies]

Something about necromancy. [An indignant little huff.] I'm the greatest necromancer of my generation. If you've questions about it, then ask.

[She just assumed he was asking her because he wanted to talk about his feelings, which, ew, but she can try?]

Truly? You didn't know your own importance to her?

[headmt]

Alright, alright! I suppose that does explain the fashion choices. It’s certainly an advertisement. Let me think about it. I’m not sure how to phrase the question I want to ask yet.

[Look, feelings are pretty ew, and he has a hard limit, but also it feels crazy-making to not say anything at all about it?]

I don’t know—- Everyone wants to hope they leave an impression on people, don’t they? But I don’t want . . . the last thing I want is any of them to follow me into the grave.

[bonetiddies]

Of course not. But who's to say she means to do so?

[headmt]

She is decidedly hard to knock down.

[Scratching the back of his head. Okay. That’s enough of that.]

You’re probably her type, actually.

[bonetiddies]

[Embarrassed!]

Oh. Well - all right. You had a necromancy question, then.

[headmt]

Coward.

[Coward!]

[bonetiddies]

I don't know what you mean.

[Embarrassing! Rude! He's a monster.]

[headmt]

You most certainly do.

[His tail swishes a bit, thinking something over.]

We did just hear again how we’re all going to have to indulge in some personal vices. You might have to . . . What is yours again?

[bonetiddies]

[Ugh. Even more embarrassing. Somehow she feels about twelve years old having to answer this.]

Despair.

[headmt]

[Only trying to be a friend! Not a dad. But still.]

Godsdamn, really? I have never seen someone more in need of a good time. And I’ve said that before! You’ve topped it.

[Not to laugh, but—]

So what are you planning to do?

[bonetiddies]

I'm. . . not sure.

[She admits this a little miserably.]

Aside from the ambiguity of what indulging in despair even means. . . I've never particularly indulged in anything. I've always had more important things to attend to than my own desires.

The only exception is something I cannot indulge in regardless.

[headmt]

[Hm.

Alright. He frowns a little at the miserable look? He didn’t want to make anyone miserable.]

How about this. If you had, let’s say, an hour left of your life, no responsibilities, no one would interrupt you . . . what would you spend it doing? It doesn’t have to be something large. Listening to a particular song. Wearing a piece of jewelry you’ve always admired. Thinking of new names for yourself.

Don’t think about it, answer quickly. Three . . . Two . . .

[bonetiddies]

[She answers automatically the most goth answer possible.]

I would gaze once more upon the body that lies inside the Locked Tomb.

[headmt]

[That is truly Goth. Also. He doesn’t like that phrasing either, but it’s probably fine. She said she didn’t know the name, right?]

Can’t exactly do that here, but. Hm. Can you imagine it? In your head? Just go and spend an hour doing that. Thinking about it.

I think that would count. Don’t think about your responsibilities, just that body. Not exactly my sort of indulgence, but you’re built a little different from me, I think.

[bonetiddies]

Oh. Yes, I could do that.

[She flushes a little, because the gothest thing you can be is horny for a dead body?]

I've tried so often to forget her, in order to fulfill my responsibilities. To stop fighting the visions - I think you're correct. That is what I must do.

[headmt]

[uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum.]

Well, now, hold on.

[bonetiddies]

. . . No? It doesn't sound right? But she has never brought me anything but despair, you see.

[headmt]

[Oh goth girl, you have so many layers. Turning to slide over the bar, reaching for one of the bottles. Only two years old and not a trained counselor?]

I’d say if you’re . . . trying to be full of despair, you could take an hour and lay on the floor - like I said, not exactly my bag - but I do have to admit the phrasing “stop fighting the visions” gives me the heebie-jeebies.

[bonetiddies]

Oh.

[She seems to suddenly realize all of the things she's been saying, which are kind of unfortunate.]

. . . I've alarmed you. I apologize.

[headmt]

Eh? Oh, you don’t have to— I don’t scare that easily. It’s concern? For you?

Just would feel fairly terrible if I make a new friend and then immediately tell her to do something very bad for her health.

[bonetiddies]

It's all right. I see things that aren't there from time to time. I don't think there's much point in pretending otherwise anymore.

[headmt]

. . . Happens to the best of us.

[Leaning on the bar heavily, nails clinking against the bottle he has.]

Do you know what they are, or is it simply a mystery?

[bonetiddies]

I'm mad. Or haunted, perhaps. I'm not certain it matters why.

[headmt]

You’ve met the people here, right? We are definitely all mad. And haunted too. I don’t think you come to this sort of place without being mad or haunted.

[bonetiddies]

Yes, but mine is more literal than most.