[Coyolxauhqui's seated on a plush-looking pile of cotton textiles in a nondescript area of the Barge, casually sipping on some sort of frothy concoction. Her skin is cut to ribbons - ears, arms, legs, but she's scrubbed and polished and looking pleased with herself. She sips on the drink and then speaks, her voice sounding like her tongue might be
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"The problem with the valley was this. The Monk currently believed that the valley and everything in the valley and around it, including the Monk itself and the Monk's horse, was a uniform shade of pale pink. This made for a certain difficulty in distinguishing any one thing from any other thing, and therefore made doing anything or going anywhere impossible, or at least difficult and dangerous. Hence the immobility of the Monk and the boredom of the horse, which had had to put up with a lot of silly things in its time but was secretly of the opinion that this was one of the silliest."
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Yes, that's lovely.
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What is an electric? Is this a blessing we may bestow upon our priests?
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Brother, I am confused. I do not think we speak of the same things.
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[The writerQuetzalcoatl's completely forgotten that the passage he's just read to her only mentioned the Monk without pointing out that he was Electric.]
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Perhaps you should read another codex. A different codex. There are so many.
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[Brb, he'll be reading you Jabberwocky in like an hour.]
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Enjoy them.
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