[He's sort of laughing for a bit, apparently cheering up after the moment of gut-dropping sadness, but after a few minutes of just sitting on his butt on this ice it fades off again.]
World sort of ... moves on, doesn't it? [...] Not saying that's a bad thing.
[Just skating backwards in front of Caleb at this point. Show-off. Seems he is kind of good at it actually. Could be he was lying about never having done it before.]
Yeah, I see a spot for you on the Dwendalian Empire skating team at the next Wildemount games.
[What are they doing here. Molly just slowly circles over to the edge of the rink, leaning against the sides of it.]
I'm ... saying that you're an interesting person. Just-- Good at talking to people. Know you don't think so and all, but least every time I see it, you're running circles around me. Making the kids laugh and telling Yasha all the right things.
[He doesn't really know where he fucked up here, so he's equally confused at this point? Also crossing his arms.]
It's a good thing. I'm saying it's fucking good to see. You're all-- everything I see in these memories from the both of you, it's good. I'm proud of you.
[He didn't fuck up exactly, but he's saying these nice things about him, very nice, and he - at a certain point, it's too much. He can hear something like that sometimes, maybe even listen occasionally. He knows he's improved, he knows he's a lot better a person than he used to be.
But Molly has been. . . saying these things, and in general acting as though he finds something very appealing about him. Being better than a hollow shell of a person, selfish and cowardly, being someone his closest friends can care for, is not quite the same as being likable and good at talking to people.]
. . . Okay.
[He seems like he is very obviously just saying 'okay' to get him to stop.]
[He genuinely probably has better aim that Molly does, considering all his practice lobbing fireballs. It nails him right in the face which he takes like a champ. And by that I mean going OOF flopping himself backwards right into the snow and laying perfectly still, eyes closed.]
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[But smiling a little at him, fond.]
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World sort of ... moves on, doesn't it? [...] Not saying that's a bad thing.
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[A pause. Then he sort of shakes it off.]
My ass is cold.
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You're rather impressive, you know.
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[He's not sure what he means, exactly, but the smile makes him feel a little strange.]
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Yeah, I see a spot for you on the Dwendalian Empire skating team at the next Wildemount games.
[Obviously he meant in that sweet memory.]
Just. In general.
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Well not everything changes at least.
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[Why are they even here, on a date, ice skating around. Sure, it's a task, but. What are they doing.]
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I'm ... saying that you're an interesting person. Just-- Good at talking to people. Know you don't think so and all, but least every time I see it, you're running circles around me. Making the kids laugh and telling Yasha all the right things.
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[Folding his arms awkwardly across his chest, obviously uncomfortable but more than that just confused.]
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It's a good thing. I'm saying it's fucking good to see. You're all-- everything I see in these memories from the both of you, it's good. I'm proud of you.
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But Molly has been. . . saying these things, and in general acting as though he finds something very appealing about him. Being better than a hollow shell of a person, selfish and cowardly, being someone his closest friends can care for, is not quite the same as being likable and good at talking to people.]
. . . Okay.
[He seems like he is very obviously just saying 'okay' to get him to stop.]
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Okay.
[Hm.]
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[Molly didn't fuck something nice? Obviously he did? But yeah, it is a little bit fucked.]
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Yeah yeah. It's fine.
[Hopping over the barrier and wobbling over to change back into his boots.]
Come on. Final stop.
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[Skating over to the side of the rink, following him over the side.
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Ah. You will regret that.
[Rolling up a snowball himself and tossing it right back at him.]
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[He says this in a worried tone, but he's gathering a bigass armful of snow before he approaches.]
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in a poof of mist, just pops up thirty feet away.]
Oi! Fuck you!
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[Running after him, though!]
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