[There's clanking and shuffling and all kinds of weird you-just-got-butt-dialed sounds. There's a distant voice that gets clearer then blurry in random jolts, a very familiar deep-voiced woman murmuring something constantly, almost urgently. It sounds like she's talking to herself, in that weirdly urgent tone when a person is trying to both talk
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[Priorities. He has them... And a two-day stubble. He may be hobo-bearded before this is over. Make it stop.]
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Oh, and think fast- that's a bottle of water whipping at your head.]
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I'd give you a tip, but I'm fresh outta ones.
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Here. [Have a ham sandwich. She'd ask what kind you want, but that's really not her style.]
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If it's food, I'll get out the pen and sign the peace treaties with you here and now.
[That's a big statement coming from an anorexic gymnast.]
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Then show me where to initial.
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Seriously, I will draw up documents, and they will be good until we get our powers back. You'll have my word and the knowledge that, if I break it, your brother will take it out of my ass.
Now, what the hell did you get?
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Food. [Very descriptive, yes. Look she doesn't know what's what, okay. It's all just food to her.] Vegetables, meat. Some fruit. She had cookies.
[Shrugging and.. her hand sort of surreptitiously going to her hair. Her head itches why.] Lucifer isn't the only one who would be displeased if you broke a truce.
It should extend beyond the scope of this event, if he insists on keeping you.
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Why would I have that?
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That prayer...
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Nothing. I was surprised that I recognized it, that's all.
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And what have we said about that name?
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Nothing of interest. But calling you "Time Lord" is no longer accurate.
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