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There's that look again!

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Ivan makes a helpless gesture, trudges over to the bar, and has almost sat down when a napkin appears and he goes "AAAH!" and lurches back.

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"What is it now," says Ethan, wandering over.

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"A napkin! Appeared! Out of nowhere! Don't tell me that has to do with soul cats, I won't believe you!"

The napkin says, Hello. Can I interest you in a drink?

Presently another one appears: I didn't mean to startle you. I am unrelated to Ethan's daemon.
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"Why the fuck would it have to do with s—with daemons?" asks Ethan. "And why do the talking napkins want us to drink here? This is some fucking Fairyland shit."

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It's entirely up to you if you'd care to accept a beverage or not. I'm only in the habit of offering, explains a new napkin. I'm not the napkins, I am the bar herself.

"Why is there a napkin-appearing bar?"

I'm one of the principal attractions of the venue.

"...That's not quite what I meant, but sure."
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"Principal attractions of the venue, is it? What are the rest of those, then? I bet the door's a favourite."

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The door is behaving abnormally for the pair of you. Most people find it very accommodating at least from this direction. I don't myself control it, or I would let you go as soon as you liked.

"What does it normally do? We didn't come in the same way."

You came in from different worlds, and under normal circumstances you could leave at will to find that no time had passed since you departed, and that when you closed it the bar was no longer occupying the other side of whatever door you passed through.

"And other attractions?"

The backyard and the inn. The infirmary is occasionally a highlight, although obviously neither of you requires it at this time.
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"I wonder what the door wants with us, then."

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I couldn't begin to speculate, but usually it doesn't keep anyone for longer than a subjective day or two.

"Oh, joy. Do you know why I don't get pen signal in here?"

Time is not passing beyond the door. Your pen signal cannot travel anywhere past it.
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"I don't suppose you know why his entire universe is full of zombies?" inquires Ethan.

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Most universes don't contain daemons. Or refer to those lacking by such vocabulary.

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"That's weird. I don't know how the hell they manage."

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"What does your soul cat help you so much with that you can't imagine doing without?" wonders Ivan.

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"You're a zombie, you wouldn't understand."

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"Bar?"

Daemons do parallel socialization and provide a focus for introspection. The shape they take provides some information, exactly how much is unclear, about their person's traits, and some of the shapes also supply day to day practical value. Daemon-touching is a form of extreme intimacy that goes largely unreplaced in other universes. Whether or not a daemon has completed dissolution is a clear and obvious signal as to whether someone has irrecoverably died or if emergency medical attention could still save them. There are of course corresponding drawbacks.
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"How do the zombies manage?"

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It depends on the person and their culture. Substantial amounts of the socialization your daemon does for you are embedded in their body language rather than being made explicit in the subchannel. The other features are simply done without.

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He shakes his head. "Poor things."

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"We get along fine."

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"Well, you'd say that."

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"It doesn't sound like I'd want one on balance. I mean, there your soul cat is, out soul catting around, and apparently daemon touching is a form of extreme intimacy? What if someone trips?"

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"Nothing good."

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"That just sounds dangerous, then. I will avoid tripping on your soul cat."

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"You'd better," snorts the soul cat.

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