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

[bawcock]

And you don't. [ Putting his hands on his hips. ]

Okay, so what exactly do you bring to the table? What makes you so important?

[dominioned]

[ ....... ]

How exactly do you think she was able to manage the logistics of your stay here? Or acquire the information necessary to complete your profiles? She's only human, you know.

[bawcock]

And you're not.

[ If he remembers right, they already established that. ] But all that really means is she needed you then, not now.

[dominioned]

That's right.

[ He shifts in the confessional and then sighs. ]

You don't seriously believe she's the one who keeps this place tidy, do you? [ Can you even imagine her with a broom. ]

[bawcock]

[ You are doing a terrible job of convincing him of your use, dude. ]

... I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I think I'm actually starting to feel sorry for you here. You're basically like her janitor.

[dominioned]

...I am not a janitor, I am—

[ Yeah this is not going as planned. He takes a breath and refocuses. ]

I am whatever she needs me to be, that is all.

[bawcock]

[ Damn. So close.

He has to stop himself from goading Rembrandt further—after he collected himself, it probably won't work again. ]

I think I can let you off the hook with that. You already told me what I wanted to know anyway.

[dominioned]

Have I? There might be something to thieves luck after all. [ But uh, agreed sulkily as it is. ]

[bawcock]

If that were true, I wouldn't be here in the first place. This might be more along the lines of, "you're too chatty for your own good."

[dominioned]

[ ......................................................... ]

Nonsense, I'm simply out of practice.

[bawcock]

Haven't had to lie in some time, huh? I know the feeling.

[dominioned]

You could say that. But shouldn't thieves be slick of tongue as well?

[bawcock]

You're thinking of the wrong kind of thief, friend. I may be charming, but the heists I pull don't require a silver-tongue.

[dominioned]

Ah, I see. My experience with thieves has been minimal up until now, but I'll keep that in mind. [ He hums. ] Perhaps more inconsequential than minimal, actually.

[bawcock]

If a thief didn't leave a lasting impression on you, I'd say it's a good thing. Guys like me are better off in the shadows, not out in the daylight for all the world to see.

[ Nevermind that he got caught before, whatever, whatever. ]

[dominioned]

Their life above ground is rather limited, yes. [ Shadows, above ground, we're making all kind of allusions here. ]

[bawcock]

Coming from you, that almost sounds threatening. [ But he lacks context here and thus can't read into it deeply. If there's even anything to read into. ]

[dominioned]

Your intuition isn't mistaken. [ Just a lil' bit. ]

[bawcock]

Too bad that intuition doesn't help me understand any of this. You and the Lady are two big, giant mysteries to me.

Everyone else here, too.

[dominioned]

Time is the answer to all things, or so I've heard. And speaking of time... [ A beat passes as he ostensibly checks a clock of some sort. Or so the silence implies at least. ]

Quite some time has passed, and I do have other matters to attend to.

[bawcock]

Huh. Never thought I'd see a priest kicking someone out of their confessional.

[ He does stand up though, preparing to leave. He doesn't have to be told twice. ]