[Mercymorn listens placidly, quirking her exquisitely arched eyebrows at this and that tragedy as seems appropriate. She doesn't get it precisely right.]
Congratulations.
[She drizzles stickily, like syrup.]
That is one of the most tremendously macabre and distasteful reminiscences I've ever heard, and I was once forced - wholly against my will - to listen to a five hour and thirty seven minute long discussion about whose dead tits had looked the most like a particularly pendulous mountain range.
[She looks out to the sea, drawn back by the sounds of the waves, and stretches both her arms out over the tops of her knees.]
Yes. I suppose you would stop being human, after all that. [She hums, a brief, electric short burst.] You must be quite good at dying by now, one would expect.
cw: discussion of death, suicide, mercymorn
Congratulations.
[She drizzles stickily, like syrup.]
That is one of the most tremendously macabre and distasteful reminiscences I've ever heard, and I was once forced - wholly against my will - to listen to a five hour and thirty seven minute long discussion about whose dead tits had looked the most like a particularly pendulous mountain range.
[She looks out to the sea, drawn back by the sounds of the waves, and stretches both her arms out over the tops of her knees.]
Yes. I suppose you would stop being human, after all that. [She hums, a brief, electric short burst.] You must be quite good at dying by now, one would expect.