Yes, yes, he understands all that, Jon. He's merely explaining why his instincts overcame him in an effort to destroy what he saw before him. Truly a humiliating and embarrassing loss of self control, he doesn't like to be one to act before properly understanding the situation. He will endeavor to prevent that from happening again.
His argument is noted, and they could return to it later should Jon find it so necessary. As it is Murmur's happy to move on, and gladder still that he was correct in assuming that this was a man of mettle enough to not scream and lose himself entirely in the presence of what he was. He was also very confident that this circumvented any irritating and unnecessary conversations regarding the insistence that he didn't exist and demands to prove it anyway.
Really this was just more efficient. Jon has been weighed, and thus far been found satisfactory. Well done.
"No," A beat. "Well. Technically my existence can be snuffed out, but it should be precisely that: Snuffed. Gone. I do not possess a soul, and therefore do not move on elsewhere should I perish. Thus, I am most certainly not deceased. And given that you are capable of bleeding and I am here perfectly capable of confirming the beating of your heart and breath in your lungs I can assure you that neither are you."
Confident now that he had more reasonable control over himself he finally stepped into the kitchen, mostly to inspect the pile of carafes Jon had created. Not a single tea pot in sight. How disappointing. And perhaps to move a bit closer to sniff at Jon, terribly rude he realizes, but necessary. He's going to have to acclimate to this.
no subject
His argument is noted, and they could return to it later should Jon find it so necessary. As it is Murmur's happy to move on, and gladder still that he was correct in assuming that this was a man of mettle enough to not scream and lose himself entirely in the presence of what he was. He was also very confident that this circumvented any irritating and unnecessary conversations regarding the insistence that he didn't exist and demands to prove it anyway.
Really this was just more efficient. Jon has been weighed, and thus far been found satisfactory. Well done.
"No," A beat. "Well. Technically my existence can be snuffed out, but it should be precisely that: Snuffed. Gone. I do not possess a soul, and therefore do not move on elsewhere should I perish. Thus, I am most certainly not deceased. And given that you are capable of bleeding and I am here perfectly capable of confirming the beating of your heart and breath in your lungs I can assure you that neither are you."
Confident now that he had more reasonable control over himself he finally stepped into the kitchen, mostly to inspect the pile of carafes Jon had created. Not a single tea pot in sight. How disappointing. And perhaps to move a bit closer to sniff at Jon, terribly rude he realizes, but necessary. He's going to have to acclimate to this.