[Suddenly, pastry shop! It's a quaint little place actually, with a few Floramon serving girls and a team of ToyAgumon chefs - even wearing (adorable) lego block chef hats. He saunters in with a small nod to the owner - and promptly moves to a four-seat table - of course holding the chair for Edea.]
They eat data, apparently. It's quite a difficult concept to grasp - but everything here is data. Even us. Data is... [Oh, this concept's really difficult. Especially for people of their world.] ...everything. If you are harmed here, you.. repair yourself. A scuffle a few weeks ago had my shoulder quite broken. I'd worried if it'd stay that way, but my body repaired itself in time. ...Almost like Eternia's-
[No. best not. He knows that even at this point of time, she'd know what the white magic chambers are, given her mother's condition and all. But... no. Certainly not.]
... Perhaps because we're data, we're fakes - copies of ourselves and back on Luxendarc our "real" selves are somewhere merely sleeping. It would certainly explain why our Asterisks don't work if they're just copies. But I can assure you, the pain of getting hurt is quite real. Maybe we're not fakes, after all.
[And her question!]
There is something, actually. I noted the tower itself is trashed. The interiors are quite a mess. You've a good eye for what looks good, so I'm sure your help in helping put the place back together would be appreciated.
[A wry smile.]
...And correcting what it looked like beforehand wouldn't be unwarranted, either. It certainly needs a woman's touch!
[And a floramon comes over, cheerfully asking for the order. Ringabel, despite saying he was hungry earlier, merely settles for something simple, and black coffee. ]
...Regarding our matter... You might find reading Dim's journal to help. There's... quite a bit in there which should perhaps explain matters.
[Of course, some of it's identical to his own. The other parts still make him want to punch the guy's head in of course, dead or not.]
no subject
They eat data, apparently. It's quite a difficult concept to grasp - but everything here is data. Even us. Data is... [Oh, this concept's really difficult. Especially for people of their world.] ...everything. If you are harmed here, you.. repair yourself. A scuffle a few weeks ago had my shoulder quite broken. I'd worried if it'd stay that way, but my body repaired itself in time. ...Almost like Eternia's-
[No. best not. He knows that even at this point of time, she'd know what the white magic chambers are, given her mother's condition and all. But... no. Certainly not.]
... Perhaps because we're data, we're fakes - copies of ourselves and back on Luxendarc our "real" selves are somewhere merely sleeping. It would certainly explain why our Asterisks don't work if they're just copies. But I can assure you, the pain of getting hurt is quite real. Maybe we're not fakes, after all.
[And her question!]
There is something, actually. I noted the tower itself is trashed. The interiors are quite a mess. You've a good eye for what looks good, so I'm sure your help in helping put the place back together would be appreciated.
[A wry smile.]
...And correcting what it looked like beforehand wouldn't be unwarranted, either. It certainly needs a woman's touch!
[And a floramon comes over, cheerfully asking for the order. Ringabel, despite saying he was hungry earlier, merely settles for something simple, and black coffee. ]
...Regarding our matter... You might find reading Dim's journal to help. There's... quite a bit in there which should perhaps explain matters.
[Of course, some of it's identical to his own. The other parts still make him want to punch the guy's head in of course, dead or not.]