"Well, yeah, I'm mortal-shaped," she says, leaning against the arm on her side so she can look at him more easily. "So-- would you all hate me less if I were a robot like Caibre? Or bandages and facial features like Orlea? Or a shroud and arms like Abaddon? Is it because I look too mortal?" She wrinkles her nose again. "You guys are a lot more complicated than you look."
"No shit, we're only every single one of your lot mashed into a physical form and a hundred year life span," he comments dryly. "The damage is done, anyway, you've already picked your form. If you go and change it now we're still gonna remember and refer to this-" he gestures at Lovers. "-as you. If you go back to being faceless now, it looks like, best case scenario, you're trying to distance yourself from us."
He shrugs. "Or, worst case, you're running away from us 'cos you can't handle the criticism."
"More like picked up," she says. "We were still getting used to the whole manifesting thing--Fortuna had been working on it before we lost her--so we needed a little help. So I grabbed the PSYCHE program's appearance data to use--and then I kept it, 'cause I liked looking like the mortal who sings the song about dancing apocalyptic. Dancing, music, they're some of the things I share--'cause they're tangential to romance."
"Point still stands, doesn't it. You guys looking human - or mortal or whatever - makes you superficially closer to us, without any of the actual relatability on your end, 'cos you're still weird ass, kind of eldritch concepts doing a really bad job of playing people."
Gil grimaces. "You don't understand us because you literally cannot comprehend how we think. Even Magician can't, and she's the personification of thought." But she was still the closest, in his opinion.
"...and you have a unique list for every single person, right?" In the incredibly done, resigned tone of a man who knows this is absolutely not the case. "Because I can guarantee not everyone likes every item on your list."
"... you know, you're a mortal," she says, thoughtfully. "You could write me a list of the general likes of mortals and I could take it with me to the next meeting."
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He shrugs. "Or, worst case, you're running away from us 'cos you can't handle the criticism."
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Gil grimaces. "You don't understand us because you literally cannot comprehend how we think. Even Magician can't, and she's the personification of thought." But she was still the closest, in his opinion.
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"Even chairs, beverages, and skills?" But she shrugs. "You might have a point. I could bring it up at the next meeting."
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"... you know, you're a mortal," she says, thoughtfully. "You could write me a list of the general likes of mortals and I could take it with me to the next meeting."
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Then stares for a few seconds.
Then takes his arm off the couch so he can rub his face with both hands.
"I mean, I could, technically, yes. But the fact that you need lists at all means they're not gonna work as much as you want."
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