I'm a bit envious, you know-- my dream just had me doing things I've already done, or at least know how to do, and now I see perhaps I could have been an acrobat or world-renowned chef.
Oh, I do have that crossbow. Any lady traveling abroad alone should carry something with them on the road. Now, whether I'd win any marksmanship contests—
[What's the aural equivalent of a wobbly hand gesture?]
[There is a pause here punctuated by some distant click and clack. A comb being set down maybe, or hair pins being shifted. Who can say? They're innocuous evening sounds.]
You know, it's funny. I faintly recall being convinced he was with the Venatori. I've memories of following him with that in mind.
Lots of travel. I've the impression of more sleeping on the ground than I prefer, but I think that may have more to do with the state of this mattress informing the dream. It's high time to turn it.
[Her soft hum is a meditative thing, sympathetic in a sense. Eventually what she says is--]
It seems the dream was kinder to me than to you, then. I rather like to imagine I could be so ready to learn a new trade when the circumstances required it. I'm not so certain I could be anything but what I already am.
After all this time, I've gotten practiced at the whole thing.
Scribing, clerking, accounting. Lover of fine shirts.
[All of this she carries off in a tone of easy good humor. It is only after that some of the artifice falls away. A little trace of regret or wistfulness or something else tinging the edges of the low gravely voice which speaks over the crystal.]
A little more tender hearted than I'd like, I think.
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Mm-hmm.
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I'm a bit envious, you know-- my dream just had me doing things I've already done, or at least know how to do, and now I see perhaps I could have been an acrobat or world-renowned chef.
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[What's the aural equivalent of a wobbly hand gesture?]
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[A pause, as he draws from a smoke of some kind,]
All the lad wanted was a cup of tea, you cruel thing.
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[It's an off the cuff thing, not so much genuine good cheer as it merely habitual.]
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I'll spare you the thinly brewed cup, next time you're cold.
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[There is a pause here punctuated by some distant click and clack. A comb being set down maybe, or hair pins being shifted. Who can say? They're innocuous evening sounds.]
You know, it's funny. I faintly recall being convinced he was with the Venatori. I've memories of following him with that in mind.
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[A deep sigh as he exhales a drag of whatever he's smoking, though by the sound of how relaxed he's becoming, it's fairly easy to guess.]
Jone and Edgard had gone turncoat as well, gave me a drubbing to remember. Their day after's been...
[He chuckles fondly.]
...difficult, from what I can tell. And then of course there's Tricky Dicky, haven't seen him yet today.
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[His voice changes with the sound of leisurely stretching as he shifts position, distant purring indicating that there’s also a cat present.]
That’s the only time I recall seeing you. Get up to anything interesting?
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You?
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Mostly languishing in the swamp with the other malcontents. It was damp all the time, my knees ached, and everything was all wrong.
[He scratches idly at his stubble. That's not that funny.]
As for the other one, you know, just... the usual.
[Being a Templar and miserable about it, nothing anyone needs to hear outright.]
Glad none of it was real.
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It seems the dream was kinder to me than to you, then. I rather like to imagine I could be so ready to learn a new trade when the circumstances required it. I'm not so certain I could be anything but what I already am.
After all this time, I've gotten practiced at the whole thing.
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[No trace of irony or suspicion-- the question comes from a kind place.]
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[All of this she carries off in a tone of easy good humor. It is only after that some of the artifice falls away. A little trace of regret or wistfulness or something else tinging the edges of the low gravely voice which speaks over the crystal.]
A little more tender hearted than I'd like, I think.
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Mother always said kindness is what matters. ...then... well, she drowned in the flooding of Old Crestwood while bringing food to the sick, so.
[That wasn't that funny. Shit.]
...maybe kindness is a hazard of its own.
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I've always thought it so. But I find my nature a compelling force.
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If not that then there must be something, [she agrees.] I'm exceedingly charming.
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[He tries to stifle a yawn, but fails; the deep breath in and out can be heard over the crystal.]
Mm, I'm fading. I hope your dreams tonight are sweeter, you pretty thing. Please try not to kill anyone in mine.
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Then I suppose I'm at your mercy.
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