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[rudelanguage]

ANTIGONE INBOX: username ANTIGONEIGUESS
PENDING INBOX: username ITSPENDING
KNIFE INBOX: nonexistent (for now)

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[rudelanguage]

N-no, I...I don't know the name. I don't really... [a wincing pause, a terse exhale.]

The...when it goes right into my ear, my head, it's... Especially strange voices I don't know, it's like. Torture. I dunno. It's. Not good.

[oblige]

'Tis an intrusive thing, yes. We've no such technologies in my world.

[ There is an incantation for sharing a simple message, a piece of information, but this requires proximity and the time to speak it, and thus would involve willing parties. ]

[rudelanguage]

[he gets it.]

Voices without faces. That, that's the worst one.

[oblige]

Yes, especially when one isn't given to expect them.

[ He does get it. ]

[rudelanguage]

It's what...meddlers do. People who want to use you. Mess you up. And...and talk louder than the voice that's supposed to be in your head.

[oblige]

I've heard of such a thing before. The god I fought in my world employed such tactics, I've heard.

[rudelanguage]

[a beat.

sourly:] Wasn't named Hekate by any chance, was it?

[oblige]

Ultima, actually.

I suppose there would be at least two such creatures.

[rudelanguage]

[she exhales a soft, disgusted noise.]

No one can...mind their own fuckin' business anywhere, huh.

[oblige]

Indeed not. I suppose it makes sense that beings who think to exert control to broad degree would see no problem with such methods.

[rudelanguage]

Even the gossipy fucks here... [she trails off wearily.]

...How much longer? I stopped counting.

[oblige]

Some time yet... I dare wonder whether the duration reflects on what was assumed of our ability to find those we came for.

[rudelanguage]

The ones I found already were real pieces of work, so I...I, hah, I don't know how worth it this shit is.

[oblige]

There are few I'd condemn to this place.

Ultima, though, certainly.

[rudelanguage]

[she exhales a faint snort.]

Worse than oblivion. I guess. Mnh.

[oblige]

Surrounded by immortal nuisances? I should think so.

[rudelanguage]

[there's no response right away. a minute or so.

then:] They can't all be...insufferable pieces of shit. Right.

Immortal people. I mean.

[oblige]

Surely not.

[ He thinks. He hopes. ]

In this place, it strikes me as cultural.

[rudelanguage]

[Knife hopes, too. rather, has to believe in at least one. so there's a slight exhale of tension - but only slight. gotta stay alert in this fuckin' nightmare realm.]

R-right. Just gotta...tame 'em right. Like horses or something.

[oblige]

[ Congratulations, there's the sound of a princely snort.

It's because he knows a horse.

Well, the horse. His world has just the one. ]

I know someone who might have opinions on that.

[rudelanguage]

They better keep those fuckin' opinions...outta my ear. Or I'll fuck 'em up.

[oblige]

I suspect that he'd rather enjoy it if you tried.

[rudelanguage]

[a moody grunt.] Gross. Buncha fuckin' weirdos...

[oblige]

He's a character, at the least.

[rudelanguage]

[another noise, more through the nose. more Antigone-coded than Scarlet-coded, that one.]

I'll pass. [never mind having already fucking endured said horse's company more than once. BY THE SCRUFF!!!!!!]