[The feed snaps on - completely unbidden, to the SHOCK and DISBELIEF of all - to show a... startlingly peaceful scene. Reading normally isn't much a spectator sport, is it? Yet that's exactly what you lot are doing: watching a bedful of unsuspecting magicians read, in a contented sort of quiet
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Mmm. Tell me why this doesn't happen more often, loves?
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[It's not until Marisa speaks up that their unknown audience's attention is drawn to the bit of black and gold half-curled into a ball between the other two magicians. Her head was against Patchouli's hip, using her as a pillow, book open on the bed before her, with Alice's legs draped over her. She gives a content sigh.]
You two need to make me slow down more often. Causes this... is the best.
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[More time allotted to it, was how she was going to finish that... but, she doesn't. And why doesn't she? Well, she's a bit distracted.
You see, as she started speaking, Orrerries decided that he'd had just about enough of being left out of this whole situation, and invited himself in. Well, THAT'S fine, right? Less fine, though, is his choice of roost: that is, directly on top of Patchouli's book.
She purses her lips, and leans forward, so that the cat's at eye level; and, then, the cat receives the full brute force of one of her most sublimely unamused stares.]
.....something about this feels familiar.
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[Alice looks down at Marisa. Yes, miss witch, that totally describes you. She also giggles a little.]
Cats will be cats.
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