[Camille's out and about on a mope, surely much less useful than whatever Laudna's plotting with the leeches. Her own writing is treacherous. When she left the theater she was clean. Approaching Laudna her leg declares, it runs in the family.]
No. Just an old friend. She happens to be dead and resides exclusively in my body now. So it's a bit of a pickle. No matter what I do, if I grow stronger, she'll grow stronger. So we may as well try to coexist peacefully.
Also this is deeply unsettling. There's infinite fiction about phantom tag-alongs, and a handful of medical spooks about fetal twins hooked around some sucker's spine. The latter are usually benign. The former rarely are.]
[Is this any of her business? Not really. But Laudna's getting tetchy, less whimsical than her usual self. Sounds like she's not a fan of hearing hard truths.]
What's the plan then? Let her hitch a ride in perpetuity?
[She's probably exhausted her welcome here. Definitely her leeway on the subject. Not her circus, not her monkeys, yet the idea itself creeps under her skin in the most insidious way. It's just another way that magic has manifested as invasion.
Camille grimaces, looking off to the side.]
Well. Nice talking to you Laudna.
[She turns on her heel, hunting for an easy exit.]
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[Camille's out and about on a mope, surely much less useful than whatever Laudna's plotting with the leeches. Her own writing is treacherous. When she left the theater she was clean. Approaching Laudna her leg declares, it runs in the family.]
What are you doing with those?
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[she obviously does look at the leg, but then looks away.]
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Anyway she looks so Camille looks. Immediately filled with dismay.]
So much for personal privacy.
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Oh, the writing? Just don't look at it, and it can't bother you.
[she's steadfastly just ignoring her own. the text warps to you're feeding her, you're making her stronger]
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You're an ignorance is bliss kind of girl? [Except this next passage is even more worrying.] Is that why you're feeding..."her"?
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No. What runs in your family?
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...Sickness.
[In the most roundabout sense. In a literal sense. Bit of both, maybe.]
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[well, fair enough.]
I'm feeding "her" because I want to. I know what I'm doing.
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[Considering her skill set she's got a guess or two.]
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[Okay, bodies and souls are theoretically off the table. Good to know.]
This lady a god then? High priestess?
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No. Just an old friend. She happens to be dead and resides exclusively in my body now. So it's a bit of a pickle. No matter what I do, if I grow stronger, she'll grow stronger. So we may as well try to coexist peacefully.
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Also this is deeply unsettling. There's infinite fiction about phantom tag-alongs, and a handful of medical spooks about fetal twins hooked around some sucker's spine. The latter are usually benign. The former rarely are.]
And you're not worried about her pulling a coup?
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If she could, she would have done so already.
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[Is this any of her business? Not really. But Laudna's getting tetchy, less whimsical than her usual self. Sounds like she's not a fan of hearing hard truths.]
What's the plan then? Let her hitch a ride in perpetuity?
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Not in perpetuity. Once we've taken care of the more dangerous enemies, we can deal with her.
[the ink on the branches on her skin changes again. You lied.]
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Camille's eyes narrow at the ink.]
I don't know if you really believe that.
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Whatever you say, dear.
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Camille grimaces, looking off to the side.]
Well. Nice talking to you Laudna.
[She turns on her heel, hunting for an easy exit.]