Um--
F-For everybody, wh-who has the-- th-the ink s-stuff, it's-- n-not hard to get r-rid off. Y-You just-- i-if you talk i-into your journal, o-or write i-in it, or video-th--thing in it, then... th-then you can wash the-- the ink off. A-And it-- i-it stops spreading.
I-I don't... know what happens... i-if you don't.
[Pause.]M-Make an-- e-entry
(
Read more... )
[Bartimaeus says it with such calm surety that he must be right... right? Right.]
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[Xanth is all the skeptical, but Bartimaeus has a good point. The journals are weird and the ink does spread a little like a disease rash.]
A-And how... h-how'd you-- c-come to this c-con--conclusion?
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It's elementary, my dear commoner.
[Because you obviously must be.]
Besides, the other likely option would be imprisoned spirits, but I would have undoubtedly sensed at least one of them by now.
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But being called commoner? That rankles, just a little.]
A--Alright, it's an-- i-idea. A-A... A m-maybe.
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Let's hear it.
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A-All I'm say-- saying-- i-is that there's... p-possib-bilities.
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[Then, with a gleeful sort of tone:]
Why not be the lab rat? Every experiment needs one.
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[For Xanth, "knowledge" just isn't a good enough answer.]
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Don't let me take away your glory!
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[Good gods, Xanth thinks, this guy is so full of himself! Or maybe he's being sarcastic. Either way, it's not endearing.]
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It's quite obvious, if you ask me.
Tell me, has your presence done anything to better this place?
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[Yeah, yeah! You tell 'im, Xanth. You are the putdown master.]
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[Xanth, Bartimaeus will give you ALL THE CHANCES to improve these insults of yours.]
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