[The inn room is poorly lit, probably just whatever light from the outside that could get through the curtains. Darjeeling the Houndoom can be seen lying at the bed's feet, just beside the owner of the pokegear
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I suppose it depends on the mother... one might say that the pain of labor had grown to pleasure and love, while another might say that it had grown into more pain.
[His voice is hollow and soft.]
You look uncannily like her. Is there a reason for that?
Is there a chance of... of feeling nor love or hate? What about sadness? Curiosity...? Though I admit, I know nothing of love or hate, so I wouldn't know...
About Beatrice... she is a witch that has lived a thousand years. Her soul is inside me. Maybe that is why?
I imagine that having a son is very painful, Beatrice.
[He can't put his finger on it, but there is something... really, unnervingly different about her.]
You... don't have multiple personalities, to your knowledge, do you...?
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[Her lip tremble, she's trying not to cry again. SHakes her head, calming herself to answer the next question.]
I am only myself. Do I know you?
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[He pauses.]
It... implies giving birth, right?
[He bites his thumb and looks like there's more he's not saying, appearing to be rather uncomfortable for several seconds.]
I thought we did. You're... Beatrice, right? The Golden Witch, likes chess, very easily offended...?
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[Her expression looks pained for a moment.] N-no, I... I meant having a son in your arms. Being a mother.
[Lets out a small, slightly amused smile with the last question.] I am not the Golden Witch, she is her own person... I am Beatrice, a human.
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[His voice is hollow and soft.]
You look uncannily like her. Is there a reason for that?
Reply
About Beatrice... she is a witch that has lived a thousand years. Her soul is inside me. Maybe that is why?
Reply
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