[ Yeah, it's lonely. That's kind of the point. There's been a lot of days spent in solitude, reading the same book over and over, playing card games by himself, being both white and black in chess. It's pathetic. He's aware. ]
Competitive trick-taking. You play twelve rounds, one for each month; broadly, your goal is to match your cards to face-up cards in the field. Making matched sets will net you those cards and their points. You call an end to the round once you think you can outscore your opponent, but you can be penalised for making that call too early. Calculated risk-reward.
[ Of course Lune’s idea of relaxation involves stressful competitive math — ]
[ There was, after all, a reason she’d brought it up. A dangling implicit offer, subtly given; a hand silently outstretched. Lune tends to be wary and not overly demonstrative around him, but there are clues. Baby steps. ]
It never feels like there’s enough time to do everything. Like I'm wasting precious time if I go to bed, but then I inevitably waste more struggling to fall asleep at all.
My parents would always tell the story of my first tantrum because I didn't want to go to bed because that meant, well, tomorrow coming.
[ The sinister cave had gotten under her skin in a way other places hadn’t. The oppressive silence, with nothing but the sound of your own footsteps and your heartbeat in your ears. The silhouette of the dead gestral merchant rising up out of the shadows: uncanny, disquieting. ]
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[ Like, literally. By definition. ]
I'm excellent at whist, but we'd have to rope in two of the others for it. I do have a hanafuda deck in my bag; koi-koi is for two players.
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I don't think I know that one. How do you play?
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[ Of course Lune’s idea of relaxation involves stressful competitive math — ]
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[ A card game that rewards intelligence and penalizes stupidity. Her dream. ]
Maybe we can play sometime. I'm not so bad at math myself.
[ Mostly piano math. But he'll be fine. ]
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[ There was, after all, a reason she’d brought it up. A dangling implicit offer, subtly given; a hand silently outstretched. Lune tends to be wary and not overly demonstrative around him, but there are clues. Baby steps. ]
You don’t sleep well, do you?
[ The original start of this conversation. ]
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I do all my best brooding in the middle of the night.
What's your excuse, night owl?
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My parents would always tell the story of my first tantrum because I didn't want to go to bed because that meant, well, tomorrow coming.
Childish, maybe, but it set a pattern.
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But I think I don't want tomorrow to come, either. [ For a very different reason, but still. ]
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Anyway. I over-analyse everything. Perhaps sometimes a pipe is just a pipe, and you’re simply very frightened of wrinkles.
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Then again, it’s not like I’ve studied other immortals.
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But no, not at all. Just oppressive blackness. Like being stuck in a dark cave.
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[ The sinister cave had gotten under her skin in a way other places hadn’t. The oppressive silence, with nothing but the sound of your own footsteps and your heartbeat in your ears. The silhouette of the dead gestral merchant rising up out of the shadows: uncanny, disquieting. ]
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[ Unsettling nothingness. Walls closing in. Feeling like you can't breathe. Typical dark and tortured stuff. ]
Like that.
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Nope. Absolutely none. But I've heard it can make the time pass faster if you have someone else to share it with.
[ :-) ]
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You could take dictation for my notes, perhaps, and make yourself useful—
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You're looking for a research assistant.
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Mm. Perhaps. I'm the youngest; I didn't have anyone below me to bully into doing my paperwork. Besides Tristan, and he's
[ dead, as everyone else in their Expedition died on those dark sands, ]
no longer with us.
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Thanks to musical notation, I suppose.
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That being said, yes, this one is thanks to music.
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[ ok she might just be taking the piss now ]
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[ He's, like, so good at it. ]
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prose bc i tire of coding on mobile
no brackets we die like men
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