>>4632(Cut-glass venom) Well, well, well. It seems discretion's exquisite delicates have given way to gruesome dogma. Believe, noble sir, there would not be this garish twilight if walls had not crumbled under lies whispered so softly that soon they'll cut our throats in silence.
>>4634(Frosty contempt dripping from icicles) Forgive him, Kit. His distaste takes precedence over anything recalling forthrightness or first reporting the discovery of northern clocks moving backward at nightfall lest anyone lose heart through excess intellectuality. Do excuse my little satire, mon ami Robert.
>>4631(The air practically crackles as she clenches his fist) Begone with these gentle solutions and limp apologies. Through us plays the curtain that God tore, with ropes of flesh and pain, enthroned chaos waiting impatiently outside. Don't attempt even to gaze further into emptiness unless your intention is to hand a revolver to the voice beside which I sit.
>>4635(Glacial skepticism drips slowly across her lips) Miracles indeed defy comprehension. Tell me, Aurelio O'Flynne-Hunter's bastard pup, does it impress you that, having stood at the topmost stair of greatness's cantilever bridge, unsure of how best to echo back Apollo's song to save Rome, you must pause daily between arresting silences for me.
