(no subject)

[postits]

Well, that was a nice break from the monotony. Though, no one died.

Jesus Christ, kids. Your lovers' spats are getting worse. I think it's about time we all grew up.

Comments

[ Filter: Mr. Mears ]

[postits]

That's not how it works. Body separated from soul will rot. Soul separated from body is a bit more complicated, possibly volatile. You see why I wouldn't risk it. He's dangerous enough on his own.

You don't seem that type. What would it be, then?

[ Filter: Sofer ]

[robotsexual.livejournal.com]

Can I pick your brain after the next meeting.

[ Filter: Mr. Mears ]

[postits]

I suppose I'm obligated to say yes. Yes, Mr. Mears, you may. On my terms.

[ Filter: Sofer ]

[robotsexual.livejournal.com]

Meaning what the hell exactly.

[ Filter: Mr. Mears ]

[postits]

Don't panic, kid. The usual and one added bonus. One, I reserve the right to withhold information. Two, information revealed stays between us unless otherwise stated. Three, you agree to never speak lewdly of Georgia again. Simple terms, I'd say.

[ Filter: Sofer ]

[robotsexual.livejournal.com]

Deal.

[ Filter: Mr. Mears ]

[postits]

Peachy.

The next meeting is quite a ways away.

[ Filter: Sofer ]

[robotsexual.livejournal.com]

Isn't time supposed to get all meaningless when you're immortal?

When then.

[ Filter: Mr. Mears ]

[postits]

Far from it.

You're the one who's all giddy for my brain. You pick. I work nine to six daily.

[ Filter: Sofer ]

[robotsexual.livejournal.com]

Yeah, giddy. How's now, let's just get it over with.

[ Filter: Mr. Mears ]

[postits]

I feel more or less the same about this rendezvous. Wafflehaus, ten minutes.

[ Filter: Sofer ]

[robotsexual.livejournal.com]

Make it twenty and I'll be there.

[ Filter: Mr. Mears ]

[postits]

Christ. Fine.