Ah, yes, the notable peace and quiet of the endless parade of supplicants leaving offerings and then being entirely appalled when what they wanted happened. I may start insisting on reservations.
A visitor, perhaps. I'm not here because I want shit. I'm here because I know you like stories and media and this is the media I have to share. Besides Bob Ross, which you didn't seem to want to join me for.
Fine. I want to not be alone, and I want to not be with anyone who pities me or thinks I'm cute and harmless. You know everything about me. You know what I am, what I've done. Maybe what I'll do in the future. But you're still here. For whatever reason, you're still here.
... Fifty seven is solidly what they refer to as "rookie numbers." Now, admittedly, rather unique for an accident that didn't involve some sort of railway mishap, but not terribly impressive.
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[pause]
I am just here for the snacks.
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[Murderbot isn't pushing. And like, it's not like it couldn't have found someone else to watch with, so its presence here sure is what it is.]
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You should watch horror media instead. It's less people talking to each other, and more chainsaws. [and thus, better.]
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[Shrug.]
I'm just here because it's private and quiet. [This is absolutely a lie, of course.]
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A visitor, perhaps. I'm not here because I want shit. I'm here because I know you like stories and media and this is the media I have to share. Besides Bob Ross, which you didn't seem to want to join me for.
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[huffs] It is rather annoying when you all insist on pretending like you don't have a motive. You don't need to insult both of our intelligences.
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What are you smiling about?
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You're the one that enjoys character-driven narratives. You tell me.
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Fuck if I know.
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