[Some of you might be able to tell where she is, but for everyone else, she's high up, sitting with her feet hanging off the roof of a building. And instead of that happy smile she usually wears, she's angry. Angry and Tired and Fed Up with this.]You all might think that when people talk about life and death, they're either being philosophical, or
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Hey, Erik. Michael. Whichever you prefer.
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Michael publicly. We both know neither's my real name.
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Right. Michael. I'm sorry, I usually remember when it comes to names.
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It's all right. I have a lot of them. What's wrong my dear?
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[Sighs, taking a seat on the ground. She's just a little bit done right now.]
I'm having one of those moments. I have my day coming up, and I think...I'll be glad to have it.
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I can only imagine. I don't think I could do it. [He knows by know that she knows that was what drove him to nearly commit suicide in the Camp - knowing people where not going to die and not being able to DO anything but watch.]
What day?
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[She sighed, leaning against him. She might not take a lot of comfort in people, but she was willing to take this for now.]
One day a century, I get to live as a human. I get to be mortal for one day, to remind myself of... everything.
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[He keeps one arm wrapped around her, understanding. Besides, it isn't as if she hasn't been a great comfort to him.]
Ah. Sounds...like a break, at least.
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[Lets out an exasperated breath of air, god, why is this bothering her so much? It never has before.]
For me, yes. Not for everyone else.
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