[The PCD switches on just in time to reveal a tall, thin, reasonably ruffled looking young man in an outlandish red cloak and large, feathered hat tumbling roughly to the ground and dropping a large pitcher filled, spilling wine out. The feathers forward and obscure his face, slightly muffling his voice.]
What-this-oh no. Oh no, no, no. Oh,
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Merlin?
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[And made his whole being a spy job thing a lot easier.]
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[After all, he did enjoy brewing potions and reading. Course, others would probably find that boring, but hey... semantics!]
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I have no desire to know them if they act idiotically.
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That's...
I guess I just don't know what to think about that.
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No one asked you to form an opinion of it.
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Noooooooo. But if I relied simply on waiting for someone to ask for my opinion, I'd never get the chance to speak at all.
Generally, nobles don't actually see us as people, you see.
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They never do.
[People of higher-society tend not to see people they don't see as being useful to them. He should know, seeing how he's Lucius's friend.]
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Not. Not always though. Morgana seemed to value mine and Gwen's opinion before she.
Before I. Urgh.
[He slumps forward slightly, suddenly uncaring.]
Whatever. Sorry for being such a disappointment, sir. Suppose I should be getting used to it, by now.
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Then stop apologizing and setting it as a trend for yourself and focus on changing it instead.
[Was that advice (albeit with a bit of snark)? No, of course not. It's just pure snark, really.]
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