[ caterwauling, cater-wauling, cater-violing... the violin screeching on Isaac's end has either stopped, or she just isn't hearing it. As if to replace it, she starts singing to herself: ]
[ he lets her, for a while. the soft clatter of tavern life continues apace: distant conversation, the creak of boards. waits for her to quiet, for breath to grow even with sleep,
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Maybe I was born in the Gram Nepro—Nepop—popotamus, you don't know!
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[ r/ambien ]
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[ She snaps her fingers. ]
Déçu.
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[ "i'm sure she's not, athessa, you have plenty to be proud of" ]
You and I both.
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How come? You smeem...smee. [ huff. ] Seem. Fine. You seem fine.
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[ is perhaps an understatement ]
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Sweet Issac, dearly, you know I'm a sheep!
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Close your eyes, Athessa.
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[ caterwauling, cater-wauling, cater-violing... the violin screeching on Isaac's end has either stopped, or she just isn't hearing it. As if to replace it, she starts singing to herself: ]
Elgara vallas, da'len, Melava somniar...
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when it doesn’t: ]
What was that?
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[ this is antivan all over again. this is how he mispronounces something horribly and calls someone's mother a —
isaac hums. to be safe. ]
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Mir Da'len Somniar. 'S a lullaby my...somebody taught me, long time ago.
it's a lullaby isaac what the fuck do you think
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