"Though she knew even less about radios than about Southern Californians, there were to both outward patterns a hieroglyphic sense of concealed meaning, of an intent to communicate.”
apparently if i flirt right, i get read isaac asimov bedtime stories over the phone with added dry commentary.
this is extremely promising.
over the moon.
“So you’re a chainmail-making, motorcycle-riding semi-professional death machine that paints miniature war beast battalions when not computer hacking, hails from the great white northern yankee wasteland, and reads. Is what yr saying.”
“Not quite great white north, and we didn’t get into my love of being in water, skiing, creating stories,the fact that I’m an amateur magician,or get drawn into randomly studying things online. But everything you mentioned is accurate.”
Jesus effing Hatch Christ, I’m going to have to make up profanity to truly express the amount of fangirl screaming that is happening in my head right now.