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[text] (after a long pause) imperial_long December 12 2011, 11:28:18 UTC
I beg your pardon. Glitch is dead?

An apology usually implies an element of guilt.

[The punching of buttons to type is simple; it does not convey the tightness with which Mayland Long would speak these words if he were saying them aloud, the drawn expression on his face, the way he is sitting ramrod-straight in his chair.]

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[voice] ownlittleprison December 12 2011, 11:36:12 UTC
Sorry Long, you'll have to type all on your own, because Mick's still in audio mode thanks to talking with Gwen.

"I tricked him," he says, and it doesn't matter how many times he does, the words still make him feel sick. "It was during the- the-" he can't say 'glitch', because it's too close to 'Glitch' and he can't wrap his head around it all yet. It doesn't make any sense.

"Everything was like something out of a storybook, and we were distant relatives or something, and I just wanted to get one up on him, I-I just wanted to be better and it's my fault."

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[voice] imperial_long December 14 2011, 23:34:49 UTC
[Another Pause, and then Long grudgingly switches to audio as well, answering after another minute or so has passed.]

"You're speaking of the latest malfunction." Voice taut, flat, quite cool. "I do hope for your sake that our captors see fit to restore him. I doubt I am the only one who will hold you responsible if you have somehow managed to do him permanent harm."

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[voice] ownlittleprison December 16 2011, 12:26:58 UTC
When Mick speaks again, it feels as though his heart's gonna hammer its way out of his chest. Tense, never ending lapses in conversation (especially like this one) has a way of rubbing him the wrong way every single time.

What's worse: he knows Long's right.

"Yeah. Yes. I don't expect anything less."

You can claim temporary insanity all you want, but manslaughter is still manslaughter - and while I don't usually think twice about righteous kills...Glitch's death couldn't have been less righteous.

"I'm sorry. I... You know where to find me if you want to--" What, talk? "Anything."

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[Visual] a_pretty_fire December 12 2011, 18:52:08 UTC
Glitch wasn't the only one to have died during the glitch, but Drusilla was no stranger to death - inflicting it or experiencing it - and was no worse for wear when she was returned a few days later. Just in time for all the fun.

"How did he die?" she asked, all morbid curiosity and eerie serenity. "Will you bring him back?"

Because he was a monster, just like her. There was nothing to stop him except his conscience. Why should the hamsters do it? Why would anyone want the hamsters to do it, when Glitch could become a brightly shining other with the right care and attention?

(She liked Glitch, as much as she was capable of liking anyone. He danced with her. She wanted him back.)

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[Visual] laaaaaaaaaaaaaateeeeer - and oops, sore spot: prodded ownlittleprison December 14 2011, 12:32:10 UTC
"Bring him--" Mick faltered mid-repeat, filling up with a different kind of dread all together, and something worse yet. Anger.

In a flash his face had changed, and he bared his teeth at the other vampire in warning. "You so much as set your pretty little foot near this place I'll personally come after you. No offense. No one's 'bringing him back'."

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a_pretty_fire December 27 2011, 19:24:47 UTC
Far from being frightened by his growls and barks, Drusilla laughed in delight at his anger. The puppy did have teeth. She'd started to wonder if he'd forgotten about them.

"You killed him. You should bring him back."

She couldn't do it. Not with the chip in her head.

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[visual] the_bluethunder December 12 2011, 21:27:42 UTC
The guardian of the woods. Illyria bears the inconvenience of the tablet.

"Your attempt to withstand the limitations of your human body has failed. You were foolish to try."

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[visual] tin_hearts December 12 2011, 21:52:25 UTC
The blue lady.

Cain purses his lips before answering, coming to the conclusion that she wasn't affected, and hadn't been. And there's really only one thing he can say in light of her observation. "Yes, ma'am, I was. In my defense, may I point out I wasn't entirely myself at the time?"

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[visual] the_bluethunder December 12 2011, 22:15:43 UTC
"Yes. You were altered, and altered again."

The woodsman had not felt the lowly human afflictions of grief or pain, but it was brought upon by magic, not of his own doing. She has one question then, and it is accompanied by a curious head tilt.

"Did you learn from it?"

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[visual] tin_hearts December 12 2011, 22:23:47 UTC
Unlike the Woodsman's faded blue eyes, Cain's are bright and full of spark. He has a heart, and no manner of magic will keep him from using it. His eyebrow quirks, entirely the same way his alter ego's eyebrow did, but the smile goes deeper. It's from the heart.

"Yes. I don't know if you'll think it a worthwhile lesson."

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[text] hisbeth December 14 2011, 02:57:52 UTC
Mick? Mick, where are you? What happened?

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[visual | locked] ownlittleprison December 14 2011, 12:35:52 UTC
No.

Oh no.

Of course she'd reply, the one person whose opinion of him matters the most; the one he can't let himself take for granted, yet fears that's exactly what he's doing every single day she gets up to make coffee and he doesn't have to pretend he's slept through the night.

"I'm at the hedge maze," he tells her, head ducked in what looks and feels a lot like shame. "I didn't mean to get him killed, Beth, I swear."

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[visual | locked] hisbeth December 14 2011, 23:49:54 UTC
He wouldn't look at her.

That was the first thing Beth noticed. He wouldn't look at her. She hated that he thought that he should be ashamed, that he thought that she would think badly of him.

Because she never would.

"I know you didn't. You were glitched. Everything was different..." And she had been forced to sit there and just watch it, the only survivor in a sea of changed people. "I'm coming to you now."

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[visual | locked] ownlittleprison December 16 2011, 12:38:20 UTC
He nods, just listening to her voice more than her words - her tone tells him more than any verbal reassurance would and he soaks it up like stale bread in a bowl of milk.

"I'm at the hedge maze," he says, his voice barely there and only just holding up against the insistent winds whipping up the snow around him.

"Wait for me at the entrance."

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