B1, Day 2 [public channel]

[whattaprick]

[ There are a lot of things people need to do right now: help the Prince's servants get resettled, get started on figuring out who can work on a cure for the petrification, deal with the trauma of dying in a hopefully healthy and non-self-destructive way, show the new people the ropes of what the Carnival has to work with.

Instead, in the morning of the second day since the Prince was defeated, anyone on the radio gets this: ]

So, I've been wondering.

[ The Nightrider's voice, for those who recognize it, has definitely been better. It's a low, hoarse rasp, and the pause at the end is not just for effect, but to actually catch his breath. ]

Just how old is everyone here, anyway? Here, I'll start. I'm ... pretty sure I'm almost sixty. [ A beat. ] ... Maybe.

[ Why did anyone let this man have his radio back again? ]

[ ooc; Lambert's flat on his back in the medical tent for this, feel free to bug him in person and threadjack each other at will. ]

Comments

[whattaprick]

[ Oh hey, it's Trakata! Oblivious to knowing she and Lambert and anyone else with their daemon out are the only ones who can hear, Celandine is just going to prattle on: ]

Will that really work?

[stillwinningthehardway]

Perhaps. How much sensation do you share? Regardless, you can eat, even if it doesn't do you any good.

[And, disgruntled:]

I can't.

[whattaprick]

Only a little. [ Mostly it comes to touch and emotion, feeling each other's distress and joys as close as if they were their own. ]

I'll eat. He can remember that when I go back again.

Why can't you?

[stillwinningthehardway]

Good.

[A dæmon can eat enough to start feeling unwell, their bodies aren't built to process food, but Scout elects not to say so.]

Scout's not very good at the spell for keeping me here.

[You can hear her snort.]

[whattaprick]

I guess she doesn't get much time to practice.

[ This isn't going to make any sense to anyone who can't hear the daemon, like only hearing half of a conversation... ]

[stillwinningthehardway]

[A restrained sigh.]

She likes that when I am here most people can't discover anything about her through me. I know you've seen that she can't bluff.

I can bluff. What do you call that whole thing with the spaceport and the Reasonable Doubt? Or getting those Feds to chase Ventress's ship?

Relying on Whie to mind trick people? We were barely even acting.

[yeah this is just going to sound like nonsense spaced out with pauses.]

[whattaprick]

You can't bluff. [ Celandine and Lambert agree in unison, though in Lambert's case it's mostly to give Scout shit and in Celandine's case it's because she's agreeing whole heartedly with the other daemon. ]

Hiding you is pretty sneaky for her, though. Well, since I can still talk to you, I don't mind.

[stillwinningthehardway]

Aaaaugh! [Scout huffs.] All of you are so wrong! I can bluff when it's important enough. Kyrimorut!

Keeping your head down and not arguing with dangerous idiots isn't bluffing. It's cowardice.

[Scout makes a derisive noise and there's a clatter as the radio's turned off so she can argue with herself by herself.]