[Ophelia is sprawled out on a black leather couch somewhere, one leg bent at the knee, the other stretched out along the couch, with one arm thrown across the back of the couch. It's silent, except for the sound of distant construction muffled by walls. The black tears are writhing around her blue skin as usual in waves and tendrils, and the thick
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I certainly listen to an awful lot of jazz.
Elvis is... a guilty pleasure. Ah, but do not tell that to those that I know.
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[She was at least familiar with that. She tilts her head to the side.[
It's too close to the music they play in elevators.
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Well, I am certainly sorry that it is not to your liking.
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I am not sure that I am familiar with anything with more... ah, "bite", to be completely honest.
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I quite.. liked that, actually. Though it is something to get used to.
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I like jazz too! I tried to get the other kids to listen to Brubeck but they told me he sucks!
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Oh, I am glad. I have heard some of his music, it is quite impressive. [ He's still amused as he adds. ] Surely you should tell the other kids that they suck. Is that not the custom?
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