I think the months I've been here is the longest stretch I've lived anywhere at all, since we left Oxford. I'm, shall we say, unaccustomed to such attachments.
( A brief pause. ) It's nice. ( Just to clarify, there. )
( Okay. Oh, God. She looks like she might be ill. ) Right. In my world, charming place that it is-- well, simply put there was an invasion. Of monsters, monsters invaded, and humans lost, basically. They're not doing so well. And, in some cases, monsters and humans bred.
( Just don't look at him, just keep gesturing and pacing. Yes. Good. ) And then there are the devils, and they and the monsters hate each other, and if a human sells their soul to the devils, they can get powers to fight monsters. "Sulfur slaves," they're called.
( A slow wheeze. ) God, this is like horribly executed exposition in a tawdry novel. Except I can't skim over it and get straight to the smut.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[You know. The obvious drug abuse and sex marathons that typically go down in 409.]
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( Poppy and Jules: they have problems. )
Stealth might be wise to avoid her voicing her opinion, but she might be politer around people that aren't me.
( family )
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( She sounds tired. ) Her name's Poppy. I'd say she's about a Category Four, in hurricane terms, but it feels more like a Five.
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( To be fair, Jules is antagonistic as fuck. No one is good enough for her brother. )
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You're getting all sentimental, Mr. Pinkman. None of that, now. What if people talk?
( surely that would be the biggest scandal of apartment 409. )
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( A brief pause. ) It's nice. ( Just to clarify, there. )
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( Such as, for example, her needing to occasionally kill people. )
We need to have a bit of a chat, later. In person. There's some things you should know about my home.
( It's not really fair that Lisbeth knows more than him. She needs to fill Lisbeth in on some information, too. )
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We could do it right now, if you want? I was just about to head home.
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( Oh God. Facing the music. )
I'll put the kettle on.
( It's the solution to everything. )
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Hey.
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( But imagine some extra iiiiiiiii dragging that out, as she passes him a nice soothing cup of tea. Not coffee, right now. Just tea. )
Good day?
( Stop avoiding it, Jules. )
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[No one died or got melted. Good work, team. He sips the tea politely, though he's not a huge fan.]
What about you?
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So good, yes. Perfect.
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( Okay, hang on she is grabbing his wrist and leading him to the sofa. ) Remember how I said there was something you needed to know?
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Right, yeah.
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Um. Right, okay. Well. In the course of your time in Exsilium, have you ever-- met people who weren't human? Strictly rhetorically speaking.
( Chewing them nails. )
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( Okay. Oh, God. She looks like she might be ill. ) Right. In my world, charming place that it is-- well, simply put there was an invasion. Of monsters, monsters invaded, and humans lost, basically. They're not doing so well. And, in some cases, monsters and humans bred.
( Just don't look at him, just keep gesturing and pacing. Yes. Good. ) And then there are the devils, and they and the monsters hate each other, and if a human sells their soul to the devils, they can get powers to fight monsters. "Sulfur slaves," they're called.
( A slow wheeze. ) God, this is like horribly executed exposition in a tawdry novel. Except I can't skim over it and get straight to the smut.
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[He's kind of lost on the relevance here. Jules really looks upset, though, so he offers sympathetically:]
That sounds pretty terrible.
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