>>5976488>We will be sure to tell Miss Charlotte that no, magic most definitively is not real and practiced by a small but significant portion of society. If we ever meet her."That would make my life much easier. I greatly appreciate your discretion."
>>5978823>And isn't that what they call themselves?"How primitive. Unless it's ironic?"
>You're both... Reptilian, aren't you? "...Is it so obvious?"
[In notes] "Physical separation from Charlotte limits her influence (though she must be here somewhere, or I would not be). I confess I do not spot the tell. The voice? The posture? My teeth are square. Does the youth possess enhanced senses? (...Or does its accompanying agent?)
>But not the sort I'm familiar with, from some other place... Another world, by the sounds of it"I would imagine so, yes."
[In notes]: "Finally: understanding."
>and APPARENTLY unfamiliar with dragons, kobolds, and Dark Gods, which all normally go hand-in-hand with, uh, your 'kind'?""Based on this sample alone, it'd appear that intelligent reptiles are a widespread concept. I would additionally posit that my 'kind' is further along than your 'kind,' or indeed than the other ones present-- though the little male one had a type of gun I didn't recognize, so who's to say? I suppose there many 'kinds.' May you take this tournament as a learning experience, yes? Good day."
>>5980029>EXCERPT FROM RICHARD'S (NOW RATHER LENGTHY) NOTES"...was when I had completed that conversation, and when that little girl began glowing yellow -- it was then that the 'voice' came, and the sensation. The voice was not the girl's voice, but it was of her, belonged to her-- or her of it? The 'narrator.' It said as much. I hoped this was a frivolous designation: that there were Narrators as there were Correspondents, or that there were Narrators as there were Seas and WYRMs, and that the power here was within my comprehension. I was no stranger to voices in the heads of children, and through Charlie I had already seen God. But the sensation-- I am still sweating. It was just on the cusp of my understanding. Perched there. I grasped for it and felt -- a void -- a flatness -- a division, a very thin division, with myself on one side and the voice on the other, though I could not tell if it was a voice or words, all words, that I was reading, or that were being read on my behalf. I was not being invaded, not dissected, but observed -- my notes and myself, held to the division, and the thing on the other side! What saved me from madness was firstly, the thought of Charlotte, and secondly, that the 'voice' was kind, and it liked me. I believe I was wished good luck. I believe I was instructed to not be distressed. Yes -- to not be distressed.
I did not know how to respond then, but I am certain this is being read. So: thank you for the benevolence. I believe I will (I must) support this child in her competitive endeavors. And I believe I will see if this place serves wine."
