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[devoutish]

Yeah?

[That's it, that's all you get.]

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[devoutish]

Suppose so.

But a block of wood doesn't try to be a replacement, does it.

[headjacked]

Mmm.

If your arm was gone, and the option was there... you wouldn't go for what I have?

[devoutish]

It'd be useful.

[He can at least admit that.]

But an arm that acts just like an arm, but is metal rather than flesh? That's fucking eerie, mate. It's fucking mental.

[headjacked]

If you really wanna navel-gaze, we're all just sacks of flesh carrying our brains around, which is -- it's kind of the only 'us'. -- you get me, I think. Words are a little --

[ Hard. Rhys holds both hands out, bending his fingers in sync. ]

They're both my arms.

[devoutish]

And that's the part I don't think I'd ever feel comfortable with.

[headjacked]

You can't knock it 'til you've tried it.

[devoutish]

It's not for me.

[headjacked]

So try not to lose your limbs. N-not that I'd be able to make you a quality replacement here. Though -- never say never.

I'd try, is what I'm saying. I'd try for you.

[devoutish]

[Oh, Rhys.]

Honestly, mate, I'd rather have wood.

[headjacked]

[ ok no PHRASING... he has to nastysnortlaugh at that ]

Then it'd be the nicest crappy wood-limb I could make.

[devoutish]

You're a good lad, Rhys. If you were from London--

[-- and less messed up--]

-- I'd give you a job.

[headjacked]

[ Oh, that's. Oh. There may be an instantly, angrily disapproving blue specter of a man in the background, but that doesn't matter. Rhys kneads his face, pushing back tears of a slightly different sort. ]

If this was London, I'd say yes.

[devoutish]

[That's right, Rhys. Forget Jack and move on to the gangster. Just as planned.]

You'd quickly get bored of the lack of robot arms, I think.

d148, evening; audio

[empireofrats]

[Whispering:] Mister Alfie?

@ASolomons; audio

[devoutish]

Yeah? All right, Emily?

[empireofrats]

I don't think Duster is feeling well.

[devoutish]

What's he doing?

[empireofrats]

Um. [After a moment or two, softly:] He says there's eyes.

[devoutish]

Yeah.

I'm seeing them, too.

[empireofrats]

I don't see any eyes. [Not yet.] He asked me if I did. Now he seems especially grumpy. And he keeps saying not to touch him, but we're not.

--Oh, I have to go. I will call you right back, okay?

[devoutish]

[Well, that doesn't sound good.]

What's wrong? Tell me quickly before you go, yeah?

[empireofrats]

It's okay, Mister Alfie. [But then she just (rudely) hangs up.

She doesn't pick up for any return calls (rude and worrying), and it's at least half an hour or so before she calls back as promised. Her voice sounds as sheepish as ever.] I think we're lost, Mister Alfie.

[devoutish]

[fUCK]

Go into the nearest building, all of you.

:')

[empireofrats]

I don't-- [There's a pause. In the background is another small, high voice, words unintelligible.] Um. It's just me--

--me and Kesara. We were walking, and... Just a little ways. Now Duster and Miss Tifa are gone. And there's--like the eyes, but not eyes. Strange things, like when I saw the whale. [Oh right. Inside.] We're looking for a house.

don't you ;) at me

[devoutish]

Have you got a light to see by?

[He talks with Kesara a lot; he knows it's dark down there.]