Dec 07, 2011 20:32
Santa--
I want my children back.
I want my wife back.
I want my life, back.
But since you aren't real, I won't be holding my breath.
--Cobb
*buffy,
*mr. pink,
merry christmas mal,
*arthur,
!curse: santa,
*ariadne,
!text,
cobb already hates this place,
*yusuf,
*mr. orange
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Merry Christmas.
[Oh if sarcasm could transmit over text.]
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[ SIMILARLY toned...and then a pause ]
We'll get you back to them.
[ James, Phillipa. Miles expects it which is about the strongest vote of confidence from a contrary source as one could hope for - Miles who wouldn't have afforded them Ariadne if it's not what he wanted.
After everything, Arthur can't imagine settling for less. In the long, long run, it's true that was always his end goal. Mal was dead, is dead, and some things can't be changed. But this could - can. He won't let him lose sight of that, not knowing they actually pulled off the Fischer job.
Anyway his dry tone from before shifts in that statement to something more honest, frank: trust me.
They'll figure this out. ]
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She'll be at her desk in her room, if he feels like bringing it up. ]
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[He's leaning against her doorjam, now, fingering the cane.]
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Ow.
[ From his cage, Waffle the bird chirps an agreement. ]
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Trust me, I don't remember.
[Dom walks in, moving to look at the bird.]
Phillipa always wanted one, of these. This or a cat. Couldn't decide if she wanted prey or predator.
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Think something is real for long enough, and it eventually does become so.
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I think she meant a literal demon though. A Santa demon but I wouldn't be surprised if he became real because little kids believed in him.
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