(Untitled)

[foreseen_future]

Nura is sitting tailor-style in a big comfy chair, head against the back, and hands holding a datapad, which she is reading, nodding her head as she scrolls through the information. Then, she seems to have come to something displeasing, because a white brow arches and she lifts the datapad close to her face. Her shoulders then lower and she sighs,

Comments

[ridi_arlecchino]

Harley looks over from her own position, flopped over a sofa. "Yeah, an' the irony woulda made for a laugh-riot if it hadn't been so darn frustratin'."

[foreseen_future]

Nura turns her head to the blonde woman flopped over one of the sofas. She gives the woman a friendly smile.

"Hello." She then makes a confused face at what the woman said. "Irony? What do you mean by that?" She has her hands on her ankles, leaning forward with interest.

[ridi_arlecchino]

Harley smiles in return, but not as bright as it could be. "I dated a funny-man. Folks forget that even funny-business is still business to somebody. We were always tryin' to get other people to have a blast." Of course, this was often in the literal sense. "But sometimes it was real hard pullin' 'im away from tryin' to perfect the ideal gag."

[foreseen_future]

Nura brings a hand to her lips with a thoughtful look. "I see...was he constantly unsatisfied with his projects? Something of a perfectionist?"

[ridi_arlecchino]

"Right! He wanted eve'rybody to recognize his genius! It didn't seemta matter how many times I said told 'im, I'd say, 'Puddin, I know you're the greatest thing since Chaplin's last pratfall!'. He had to get things just right, for... well, not me."