A query is put forth by a darkly-dressed man lounging on the ground, absently toying with a shiny new iPhone. "What is the source of your creativity? Your Muse, if you will."
Emmy climbs out of the chair she'd been dozing in (oh gods please don't tell ... just about anyone in the Clan or Paris...) and saunters over to Bel. "You're not." Her tone is pretty amazed. "Holy crap, you look just like Mal." She looks him over, eyes appraising. "But closer, yeah. You're different. My apologies. Afternoon, Bel. Nice to meetcha."
"I will try not to take it personally. I have seen you, naturally, b ut we have never had a chance to properly meet. I am most happy to rectify the situation."
Emmy's mouth forms a perfect 'O', and her eyes get wide, and there's a breathless little sound of pleasure. "My fav.. alright, nearly my favorite vice. I'm a Black Berry girl myself, but gods that's pretty."
Bel looks positively grief-stricken for a moment. "The Black Berry melted when I was updating some of the security systems near the Phlegethon. I will have to remember to shield this better."
Emmy reaches out and pats the poor guy on his shoulder, looking like she just found out someone died. "I understand your pain. I've lost a couple of them. Something about them cannot take my divine energy, and they keep zapping out."
"I am hoping better shielding will solve the problem. Though I suppose it's a good excuse to get new toys, having to re-load everything is troublesome."
"What the hell are YOU doin' here?!"
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