[text; un: longinmouth]

[abheirrant]

How many living individuals remain here?

[This question brought to you by your local guy who has realized he might be in for some trouble if most of the population isn't technically alive.]

Comments

video;

[writtendestiny]

Erm.

[Weird question, really... But hey, nice to see you Carlisle. In a manner of speaking.]

Worried about something?

[audio]

[abheirrant]

[He calls her back rather than texting.]

No. I am simply counting. After all we've had wandering these halls, from the undead to monstrous aberrations, it seemed a worthwhile endeavor.

[writtendestiny]

[She purses her lips slightly.]

I think we can say we're easily outnumbered, without counting. There aren't many of us.

[abheirrant]

[His voice softens with discomfort.]

I thought as much myself.

[And as though he suspects she'll question that remark, he continues with nary a pause.]

That you are still here is encouraging. I hope you have been well.

[writtendestiny]

I think there's something about places like this that doesn't want to let me go.

[She says this with a dry smile, but there's no small amount of truth and a little pain behind it.]

I've missed you.

[abheirrant]

There is little to miss. I am an unfortunately unchanging thing.

[He says that lightly, almost jokingly, but it's the truth. Even the Carlisle Poison knew and the one she knows know have a lot of similarities, despite their dramatic differences. Some things never change.]

[writtendestiny]

I like that about you.

[She would have been quite attached to him no matter what state he was in, but the fact he really hasn't changed that much at all only made the heart grow fonder, so to speak.]

Are you taking visitors yet?

[abheirrant]

[The slightest pause. The answer ought to be no, of course, but he does rather enjoy Poison's company, and should perhaps take advantage of it while he can.]

I suppose a visitor would be all right. I have been trying to make my home here a bit more, er. Hospitable. And Walaric likes visitors.

[Yes, he still has the one chicken with the sweater. Please do not call him out on this.]

text; un: starscream

[vosseeker]

[ That is worrisome wording... ]

You had better not about to start into what constitutes "living" again, I would hate to think you'd forgotten your lesson already.

[text; un: longinmouth]

[abheirrant]

[The living construct is still here. Of course the living construct is still here. Carlisle is grateful sighs don't pick up through text.

His presence does bring up an interesting line of questions, though: if he is truly alive, is he susceptible aural compulsion? Are his energies compatible with Carlisle's own? Can he be leeched from in the same way in order to sustain the would-be Revenant?

... On second thought, every one of those questions is less 'interesting' and more 'uncomfortable.']

I have not. I was simply trying to differentiate from the constructs native to Anchor.

[And Scaramouche. He's pretty sure that guy isn't alive, no matter how animated he may be.]

[vosseeker]

Which Anchor?

Also I hate that I have to ask for that clarification, as if this place wasn't Pit-spawned enough.

[abheirrant]

This Anchor. The fact that there is now another Anchor with which to concern ourselves is troubling, especially if there are not many of us left.

[vosseeker]

Then I suppose it's fortunate that I'm worth at least a dozen of you, isn't it?

[abheirrant]

[There's a pause in messages as the gears turn in Carlisle's head.]

Is that a boast? Or do you mean that in a literal sense? Not just that you are large, as you are, but by some other, less tangible measure.

[vosseeker]

Less tangible how? I'm rarely in the mood for riddles.

@Pratt

[theweakhavepurpose]

As opposed to?

You're gonna raise some questions with that wording.

[You know, about yourself..]

[abheirrant]

[He's already getting questions, thank you, Pratt.]

As opposed to the machinery that roams these halls. I need living beings.

[voice to text | @SCARAMOUCHE]

[numerouno]

Good question.

[abheirrant]

[Uh oh. Carlisle steels himself with a breath before replying. Dislike constructs as he may, he owes this one a small debt of gratitude, even if he doesn't know it.]

I've a question for you in particular. Do you count yourself among the living, as some construct-like beings here do?

[Please don't hurt him, Starscream.]

[numerouno]

[The question is slightly baffling, but he isn't fazed by it.]

Why wouldn't I?

[abheirrant]

Many constructs are not. They are made, built. What will they have has been impressed upon them by their makers.

[numerouno]

And that makes them dead to you? Dead people don't talk, babe. [Or do much of anything, really.] Can't you hear me talkin'?

[Never mind that this is voice-to-text. Details.]

[abheirrant]

[He wants to argue that no, he can't hear someone through written communication, but that's not the point, and he knows it.]

They are not dead. They have simply never been alive.

[numerouno]

Oh yeah? Then why do they get so broken up about dying?

[He's never had a bot go quietly by his hand.]

[abheirrant]

Perhaps because they are being broken.