[ She has no idea who this person messaging her is — @marshal? — but Mercy dives right into her response unflinching, as if she's simply picking up the thread of a half-finished conversation they were in the middle of. ]
Honestly. They're all so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I feel like I'm walking amongst infants. There's a few exceptions, of course — I should start club for millenarians — but, yeuch.
[ This is not the response he was expecting so he knows right away it's not who he planned on messaging, but she's 100% on the same level as him so he's in right away. ]
I feel like whenever they start flirting I low key wonder if they've got some daddy issues.
This does, however, start to beg a couple questions:
How old are you,
Do you look like, as they say, a #daddy?
[ As soon as she's typed those words and pressed send, she immediately regrets the joke. Mercymorn is not good at jokes. It's more the kind of droll nonsense that either John or Augustine would've sent. Ugh. Apparently missing them means she's becoming them, God forbid. ]
[ Oh no. She'd been joking, but he is handsome. For a disorienting moment the grey hair reminds Mercy of her brother-saint, and that unexpectedly grinds on her nerves. She bites it down, trades it for pithiness: ]
Fifty. Oh, but you're as much a child yourself. I'm somewhere in the vicinity of ten thousand.
But you are on the older side in comparison to everyone else, so I'll give you that and say that qualifies. From what I've heard, being a "daddy" means you're an older, attractive man who elicits said daddy issues, and is likely something of a silver fox.
Ten thousand. Damn. Alright, you win. Everyone's definitely children compared to you.
[ Cobb has no reason to doubt her. Sure in his world most people don't live that long, but it's not impossible, and this place has a lot of impossible going on too. ]
That's what I was afraid of. So. [ He looks at her name. ] Mercy, that makes you everyone's great, great, great, many greats grandparent?
Oh, eurgh. No. I am never, ever, ever procreating.
[ She's honestly not even sure if she's capable of it. Likely not; her body subsists too much on thanergy and sits too close to the River, brushing up alongside death rather than life.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
misfire ;D
no subject
Honestly. They're all so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I feel like I'm walking amongst infants. There's a few exceptions, of course — I should start club for millenarians — but, yeuch.
no subject
I feel like whenever they start flirting I low key wonder if they've got some daddy issues.
no subject
This does, however, start to beg a couple questions:
[ As soon as she's typed those words and pressed send, she immediately regrets the joke. Mercymorn is not good at jokes. It's more the kind of droll nonsense that either John or Augustine would've sent. Ugh. Apparently missing them means she's becoming them, God forbid. ]
no subject
And I don't get that but I guess you tell me.
[He sends her a picture of himself smiling]
no subject
Fifty. Oh, but you're as much a child yourself. I'm somewhere in the vicinity of ten thousand.
But you are on the older side in comparison to everyone else, so I'll give you that and say that qualifies. From what I've heard, being a "daddy" means you're an older, attractive man who elicits said daddy issues, and is likely something of a silver fox.
no subject
[ Cobb has no reason to doubt her. Sure in his world most people don't live that long, but it's not impossible, and this place has a lot of impossible going on too. ]
That's what I was afraid of. So. [ He looks at her name. ] Mercy, that makes you everyone's great, great, great, many greats grandparent?
no subject
[ She's honestly not even sure if she's capable of it. Likely not; her body subsists too much on thanergy and sits too close to the River, brushing up alongside death rather than life.
Now it's her turn to peer at his display name. ]
Marshal. Name, or title?