“Well, thanks, Cedric. Now I’m going to be paranoid about Dyllan’s mental health for the next 36 hours.” Andie rolled her eyes. A reaction that would normally imply sarcasm when combined with a statement of concern, but Andie’s usual air of grounded confidence made the gesture’s dismissiveness less hostile and more… comforting. “But you’re right, we should head home for… now…”
Andie froze in place. “Cedric. Where are the lights.”
Cedric arched an eyebrow. “The lights?”
“The lights.” Andie gestured downward with a casually frantic energy. “The lights below the mindscape.” She took a deep breath. “They are gone.”
“Yes, I know which lights you’re talking about.” Cedric shrugged. “I just don’t understand why this is such a crisis.”
“Cedric. Buddy, pal. Friend-o-mine. My dude, my mans. Pal, buddy… frrriend.” Andie bit her lip and let out a frustrated, squeaky, grunt. “Were you not, mere seconds ago, expressing a concern over the state of Dyllan’s mindscape?”
“Yes, but Dyllan’s always been a nyctophiliac, so that’s of no concern.”
“A… what…?”
“Yes, yes, I know. The suffix ‘philia’ gets a dirty reputation for the ugly bedfellows it often keeps, but it merely means ‘to have an abnormal fondness for,’ which can certainly be more accusation than epithet when combined with words that translate to things like ‘related to death and corpses.’ However… pair it with ‘biblio’ meaning ‘related to books,’ and you have someone who just loves the smell of books, and the atmosphere of libraries. If anything, bibliophile is a compliment.” Cedric beamed. “Of course, paired with ‘nycto’ simply meaning ‘night,’ and you have someone who enjoys the peaceful quiet of the open dark - something most find unnerving.”
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“Oh.” Andie relaxed her stance to a more casual one, placing her arms into her pockets for a well deserved rest after all their fervent gesturing. “Well, that’s not so -”
“Also, they’re up there.”
Andie stared blankly at her wordy bastard of a friend. “…what?”
“The lights.” Cedric gently raised his right arm up to point at the sky above. “The lights below the mindscape.” He smiled, a little bit too pleased with himself. “They are up there now.”
“Okay. Cedric.” Andie took a few steps toward Cedric, and placed her hand on his shoulder with a quiet menace. “Maybe lead with that next time.”
“Oh, my apologies. You are absolutely correct, dearest Andie. I absolutely should have begun my reassurances with the new position of the lights previously located below us.” Cedric smiled with all the charm of a fragrant, beautiful, and lethally poisonous flower floating in a cup of tea. “It seems my ‘infuriating tendency to ramble off useless poetics in times of crisis’ has flared up once again.”
“Oh. Okay. I see.” Andie let her hand slip of of Cedric’s shoulder than tilted her head back to take a deep, calming breath. The lights above her were lovely… twinkling like tiny stars - or perhaps the lights on a Christmas tree - in a vast, inky black sky. It did a fine job of distracting her from the rising urge to deck Cedric in his smug little face. “Speaking of accusatory epithets, Cedric… ‘petty’ might be a suitable one for you.”