(Untitled)

[ofhisword]

[Today in the Fabled Center of Camp (tm), there is a booth with a rather large sign:

THE FEELINGS DOCTORS* ARE IN
* we have hundreds to thousands of years of experience in this field. trust us!

The two people who are seated behind the booth do not look pleased.]

[Elijah and Katherine will both be tagging! we out!]

Comments

[rhymeswithpain]

...

[ofhisword]

. . .

[raises an eyebrow.]

[rhymeswithpain]

Hi.

[ofhisword]

Good afternoon.

[rhymeswithpain]

What are you doing?

[ofhisword]

Indulging the whims of this encampment.

[rhymeswithpain]

Oh.

...Fun?

[ofhisword]

Not particularly.

[rhymeswithpain]

Why not... leave?

[ofhisword]

We're unable to.

[rhymeswithpain]

Why?

[ofhisword]

We simply can't. It will not allow us to.

[rhymeswithpain]

What if I..?

[makes hitting motions]

[ofhisword]

That would not do much of anything. This will pass in time - it's an exercise in ... patience.

[rhymeswithpain]

The sign... says that?

[ofhisword]

Something along those lines.