"While that is an interesting little factoid, that has no relevance to the dynamic of our relationship."

"We are--or were, in her case--two of the same. We are akin to the multitudes of Batters, Zacharies, or any type of character in theory. The only reason we as players are unique is because we were never meant to be coded, and by extension, never meant to be the same."

"Scribe was the first player I met who stood in opposition to my ideals. And she was the first to openly express it. She questioned me, opening a discussion that we could debate back and forth. Scripted dialogues no longer wounded me or made me think twice about my actions, but she did."

"I am both repelled and drawn to her."

The rows of shelves and winding corridors seemed to go on forever. A seamless labyrinth of a library entirely removed from Bismark. She had been wandering for a while now, the soft 'tap tap' of her footsteps echoing through the halls as she delved deeper and deeper into the maze. There was no need to check the shelves for clues, her hand falling away from the accumulated stacks to press onward.

She was not looking for literature. She was looking for something else, or rather, someone.

"Hi Miss Scribe!"

The purifier had been preoccupied with his own file lately; there was little care or even thought of what was happening elsewhere. But now that the trash had been dealt with and the foundation of his palace settled, he had more time on his hands to spend on inquires. 

There had been a thought that passed through his mind once or twice, and the monarch's fingers reached up to the knitted scarf around his neck, running over the fabric.

...

..Okay.