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"Sounds like a profession that comes with a questionable lifespan," says Callida. "No wonder we don't have them where I come from."

Her? Dodge questions? Never.
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"Mm."

Never has a sword looked quite so unimpressed. It's a mystery how he manages to convey body language without anything even resembling a face or, for that matter, body.

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Callida just smiles innocently.

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"Deekin, would you give some musical accompaniment to this awkward silence? A 7-chord on the Ganadon Lyre would be much appreciated."

Deekin rolls his eyes at the sword, but begins rummaging through his bag. "Always wanting specifics."

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Callida looks at Enserric, assessingly. ... Then at Deekin, when she realizes that judging the body language of a sword is not happening. That sounded suspicious, but - a musical instrument?

She shifts a bit, ready to bolt. And grab her lightsaber, of course, but she would like to dodge an attack first. Being able to block it is not guaranteed.
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Deekin comes up with a beautifully crafted lyre. He strokes its strings and accompanies himself with a melodious humming.

In a wash of strange energy (not like the Force, but something), the runes inscribed in the wood glow a pale, greyed-out blue. "Deekin tell you," the kobold grumbles.

Enserric makes a frustrated noise. "Oh, shove it."

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Callida twitches.

"What was that," she demands, standing abruptly.
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"Checks for evil," Deekin says mildly. "Magic stuff. Sword is paranoid jerk."

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"And what would have happened had it said I was?" she snarls.

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Deekin waves a hand. "Some of Deekin's best friends evil. Deekin maybe have to leave, but unnecessary murder not great life policy."

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"If I were 'evil,' by whatever bizarre definition a fucking lyre has," growls Callida, "Why would you think it a good idea to piss me off by invading my privacy with an artifact?! If I were evil, I'd shown you no hostility, just a desire for privacy! Which you just invaded!"

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Deekin shrugs. "Sword?"

"You were being evasive!" Enserric complains. "I didn't reach the age of eighty and then get murdered by a skeleton king by trusting people!"

Deekin nods. "Sword. Paranoid dick. Keep Deekin and Tynan alive for several years of Underdark nonsense, but paranoid dick. Deekin not think you were evil anyway, just indulging dumb sword. No privacy invasion except evil or no, though, glowiness not very information-dense communicative metric."

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"Oh, sure, so instead of trusting people you actively piss them off by doing alarming things to them without any explanation at all! That'll get you not-murdered, won't it, that's perfectly safe, no way that could possibly go wrong. Nevermind any sort of history that may or may not adversely affect their reaction, nevermind how evil or not they may or may not be, nevermind any knowledge of how that could have gone with whatever weird shit has us talking to each other in a bar that's separate from my universe! Nevermind if it could have tripped a trap, exploded all of us, nevermind if I could have turned out to be allergic to it for bizarre magic reasons, nevermind that it was not your fucking call to make in the first place, because being a bit evasive is not actively threatening you! Whereas!"

She breaks out the air quotes. "'It's not privacy invading except evil or no' oh, I'm sorry, do you know my life situation, do you understand that certain questions getting magical affirmatives could literally get me killed? No? Then don't! fucking! assume!"
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Deekin is beginning to look tense.

"Sorry. Rude to do unfamiliar magic, Deekin understand. Not big spell back home, nobody get mad about detection, Deekin not think about it. Deekin know for fact impossible for spell to explode or be allergic, though. And questions getting magical affirmatives very privately, considering we only people here, so unless question getting answered kills you instantly Deekin not think it huge concern. And Deekin not know about evil-baggage, so Deekin not think it very fair to blame him for not knowing other-universe human ladies got some kind of trauma history with evil, when back home nobody think like that!"

Tynan climbs atop his head and starts rubbing his spines. Deekin exhales and starts tapping his fingers on the table jerkily. "Deekin not liking interpersonal conflict much. Sorry shouting."

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Callida looks to be doing her best to glare daggers at Deekin and Enserric at the same time. Her right hand sparks a bit and she turns her glare on it, like she's considering chopping it off if it shows such disobedience, and it stops. She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath.

"... Apology accepted," she huffs, after counting to ten in her head and reminding herself that she can use this to extort useful items out of him. "Do not do anything like that to me ever again without my express permission. And I do not recommend just assuming other people's cultures are like yours and that means it's okay to do whatever you want. Understood?"

She sits. Fuming.
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"Deekin not planning on it," he snaps.

"...Sorry," he adds, after a bit. "Sorry again, sorry better. Hard to apologize right when yelling happening. Used to apologize too much when Old Master angry, now just get angry when shouting happening."

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That's - actually pretty understandable, it took her ages to stop flinching when people yelled -

"I apologize for yelling," she says, with a surprising degree of sincerity for how upset she is. But that is what happens when you casually cast magic on me without my permission, she doesn't add, because that is not helpful.
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Deekin smiles shakily. "Nice of you."

He gets a bottle out of his bag and knocks back the blue-green liquid inside. There's a strange glow to it, and when he's finished he himself seems for a moment filled with sunlight.

He shakes his head vigorously, and turns back to Callida with the light returned to his eyes. "Blessing potion. Good stuff; calm down, feel better, not scared, not sick, no bad stuff. Want some? Very good for Deekin, maybe good for Callida too."

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"No, thank you. Give me a minute, I'll be fine."

She takes deep, steadying breaths, and carefully focuses on the crystals in her lightsaber. They are soothing, they are familiar, they are hers. She's done this sort of thing before, because - well, she's a sith. She has been angry before. A lot.

She systematically zaps her anger without repressing it. It is valid, it isn't incorrect, but it is inconvenient and unhelpful, and she won't solve anything by being angry, and if she demands nothing else of herself, she will demand that she be more than a mindless rage monster.
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(Enserric quietly notes that her weird life force thing is doing weird shit. And that cylinder thing is... some kind of focus?)

Tynan goes over and attempts to lick the hilt of her lightsaber. Tynan is a bastion of good life decisions.

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She doesn't open her eyes to even look. She just moves her lightsaber out of Tynan's reach effortlessly and smoothly.

Her anger's just about zapped, the last bits of it will just have to fade with ordinary conversation.

"Hello there," she says to Tynan.
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Tynan burbles genially at her.

Enserric wonders aloud, "Do you fight? I would be fascinated to see that life-flow... thing... in action. I preemptively volunteer Deekin as a sparring partner."

Deekin shrugs. "If lady wants."

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Callida looks faintly amused.

"... I do, but no. I would rather not."
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Enserric sets about pouting, quite a feat for a sword.

Deekin fiddles with the teeth on his necklace absently. "Deekin kind of wondering about human lady magic now. Not like Toril magic, but Enserric say interesting, plus sparks... Just sparks? Other stuff?"

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"Other stuff as well. I'd prefer not to go into it."

Because, you know. Grievous privacy invasion.
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