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"We are admittedly also kind of flaunty when I have sent Path on some kind of errand. But yes, it's contributing."

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"We're trying, though. Promise."

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"I believe you," sighs Iobel.

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"I wonder if you two would get along better if you had daemons. They're useful, they're good at - feelings. But it would be kind of a drastic shift to make and there are the aforementioned vulnerability problems..."

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"The vulnerability problems make me quite nervous, I think we should try to see if we can manage it without them. Unless you particularly want them, Iobel?"

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"I'd be worried someone would try to pet it, since no one here would know what it was. If someone who Cricket doesn't like tries to touch him he can just resort to violence but it's sounding like daemons can't do that."

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"They can't. Not - not really."
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"So. If I move to your world - we should name those I think - then I'll get one because I'll mostly be around people who'll know how to act. But not as long as I'm staying here."

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"Fair. The world's name is Earth, we could name the plane, though, since the colony isn't on Earth."

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"Chamomile," says Isabella whimsically.

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Adarin bursts out laughing and then hugs his wife. "That's absolutely perfect, let's call it that!"
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"Why is this so perfect? And hilarious?"

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"It's the entire reason I went to the plane in the first place. Finding Chamomile."

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Edarial is pretty sure that counts as flaunting, but he's starting to give up trying to get them to stop being so - flaunty.

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"You use interplanar travel to find chamomile?"

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"He was living on a hastily colonized plane on a tidally locked planet and the eternal twilight thing was screwing with people's sleep cycles."

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"Right, and plants are more scalable than magical solutions - I set a farm to grow them and within a few years there's enough to at least alleviate the problem. I was going to also work on magical solutions in the time that the chamomile bought me, but - then I decided to just leave the plane and work with Isabella."

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Isabella opens her mouth and then closes it. No flaunting.

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Zevros is maybe a little bored out of his skull by all of this talk. He'd been hoping they'd talk about interesting things, but - flowers? Scalable solutions? Daemons? He does not care.

"Right, fascinating, flowers. You all have fun with that, I am going to go back to napping. Bye!"

He turns to leave.
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"Bye."

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"Your alt's daemon is a black harrier if you care."

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"Meh!" he says, and then he's gone.

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"Is there any sort of meaning to what your daemons are?"

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"Some. Witches all invariably have flying birds - so Zeviana can pass as one but if she'd gotten something else she might not be able to. And there are stereotypes or real correlations, it's hard to tell which, with various things and personality traits. Daemons tend to wind up seeming - fitting."

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