[he'd been 'good' long enough, and it's left a bad taste in his mouth. The acid tang of failure and disappointment and restlessness. So... he is hardly surprised when he finds himself snatching mentally at a stray presence on the edge of town and drawing them to him. It was nearly an accident, really. An instinctual reaction. One that he won't be
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... Until she feels something unusual, suddenly finding herself falling over. Her senses are naturally heightened, but it's not doing anything for her legs being taken over by pain.]
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Too bad it's not working.]
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Legato... what are you doing?
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[fidgeting, almost, with his new toy. Pushing one little arm, testing where resistance begins to turn into pain]
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So finally thawing in the Welcome Center, a cup of coffee in hand, she found herself stopping on this entry.
It wasn't exactly something she could put her finger on. It didn't even feel like whoever it was was looking for a response. Not really.
...but something wasn't right.
She skipped it. Moved on to other pages, but eventually she found herself drawn back, troubled]
Waiting for what?
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Something of meaning.
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What are you doing, Legato.
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Oh. I see you've made it back as well.
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[And I remember what an asshole you were, too.]
Now answer my question.
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You don't learn lessons easily, do you?
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For something meaningful to happen. Something of worth.
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And what would that be?
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Does it really need to be more specific? Something that surpasses the worthlessness of the facade here.
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