Private Conversations

[dominioned]

The confessional before you is ornate and well maintained, ebony colored wood embellished with the visage of two angels. A jet black curtain separates the confessional from the rest of the Church, offering a surprising degree of privacy to any eavesdroppers nearby. Unlike the rest of Krakow, the inside is dimly lit by a small light bulb securely attached to the ceiling which emits a faint red light. While the atmosphere isn't exactly cozy, it is private.

A smooth voice calls out to you once you've sat down, familiar enough to identify the speaker despite the partition between you.

"Welcome welcome. I take it something is on your mind?"

We're in a museum now, Harry.

Comments

[dominioned]

...in my field of work, it matters more than not. At least to me, personally.

[psychophant]

Have you had many interesting employers over the years, then?

[dominioned]

I would say so. My last employer in particular was... fascinating, at least until the end.

[psychophant]

Did something happen to them? Or did they simply change their mind and become someone you found dull in comparison?

[dominioned]

[ He's quiet for a long time and when he speaks it's after a heavy sigh and a shrug of his shoulders. ]

In the end, he was nothing more than a coward.

[psychophant]

[...This probably isn't something Rembrandt will talk to him about, but...]

Will you tell me about him? What happened that changed your opinion so drastically?

[dominioned]

No. I'm picked up some terrible habits from humans, but I refuse to add drowning on and on about nostalgia to the list.

[ Yeah that's a hard no. But the fact that he's so closed off about this speaks to itself. ]

[psychophant]

[Exactly...]

That's fair enough. I've never been one for nostalgia either. I'd much rather keep pressing forward.

Thank you for all you've shared with me, Rembrandt.

[dominioned]

Do make good use of it. [ With a smile, he tips his head. ]