sort-of voice-test for a sort-of oc.

[scryinghope]

Please don't.

Yes, I know that won't stop you. I don't even need to be in your head to know that. I also happen to know that a little bit of pleading will at least make you feel guilty while you put me through all the things you're planning.

You see? It worked. At least now I can suffer with the petty vindictiveness of knowing that a fictional character made you feel bad. I'm like that on occasion.

Comments

[skeletonenigma]

You? Polite? I never thought I'd see the day.

[scryinghope]

I do occasionally deign to see you lesser beings as worth my courtesy.

[skeletonenigma]

Lesser beings? I'm sorry, which one of us was the idiot who turned over a dead body before securing the crime scene or, God forbid, actually investigating?

[scryinghope]

I didn't say I wasn't an idiot. Just that I was a superior being, obviously.

[skeletonenigma]

Had I done the same thing, I wouldn't have died.

[scryinghope]

You're a skeleton. That automatically makes you lesser. You have no brain or heart, for starters.

[skeletonenigma]

And yet, I can leap off waterfalls without fear of being killed, or even drastically impaired. You touched a body, and you were dead within minutes. By any civilisation's definition, you are not the superior being.

[scryinghope]

Wasn't there a bunch of books about this? About a man who goes around putting pieces of his soul in objects so that he couldn't die, much like your soul is attached to nothing more than a pile of bones?

What happened to him in the end, again?

[skeletonenigma]

He survived, thrived, and went on to become the superior being. They probably named a restaurant after him.

[scryinghope]

I think we're talking about different books. The bloke I'm thinking of died horribly and alone from his own magic backlashing after failing to fight off a horde of school-children.

[skeletonenigma]

Well, there's your problem. Were I ever to fight off a horde of school-children, I wouldn't fail. The very first thing I'd do was make sure my arch-nemesis was actually dead myself.

[scryinghope]

Whenever did you read Harry Potter?

Or who read it to you, as the case may be?

[skeletonenigma]

I would then assign them all mounds of detention and lock them in a basement room so I'd never have to deal with them again.

[scryinghope]

I'll be sure to warn Valkyrie about that, then.

[skeletonenigma]

This is assuming I was evil, remember. I'm not. I've been reformed for some time now.

[scryinghope]

And yet it has still occurred to you as a potential training exercise to assign her mounds of detention, like perhaps searching the Sanctuary archives for something, and then locking the door to teach her detective skills, hasn't it?

[skeletonenigma]

She calls the Sanctuary archives the fabled Mystical Hall of Magical Cabinets. I believe I'm entirely justified.

[scryinghope]

Speaking as a former scribe, I would call that an adequate justification, yes.

[skeletonenigma]

Oh good. I can count on your help, then.

[scryinghope]

I'll even steal all the quills.

[skeletonenigma]

From the Sanctuary archives? I think it's my duty to arrest you for that.

[scryinghope]

What means more to you: the opportunity to teach your wayward student respect for the annals of history or arresting a dead man for borrowing some quills on behalf of an angel in sore need of them?

[skeletonenigma]

Considering that the reason the angel's in sore need of them was encouraged by you, and in fact probably given the idea by you, and you're hoping that two wrongs will eventually make a right? I'm sorry, Descry, but I think I might just have to accomplish both.

[scryinghope]

Just one question. How do you plan to slap handcuffs on a ghost?

[skeletonenigma]

Gabe.

I'm sure he still has them somewhere.