[B]Aevum![/b]

3V takes it. It’s non-alcoholic, of course. Just the sort of thing you drink because everybody drinks it, and it’s not cloyingly sweet (like half the liquids 3V puts into her body on an average day). Sips it and watches Yellow, watches the city, drinks it in. This. This is what she was missing on the Park.

A car roars by, heading for Zeus. 3V’s heart doesn’t skip a beat. In a moment like this, how could it? The cars are just another part of the great roaring engine all around them. More lights, more signals, more little fragments of meaning. The sort of meaning that only November’s got a hope of interpreting, out of anyone.

“Ownership. Whole messy thing started when somebody looked at a tree and said: stop, this is my tree.” She doesn’t even remember where she picked this up, or who said it. “[i]You[/i] can’t have the apples. And, sure, some trees need specialized care, and sure, you don’t want people to gorge themselves on apples so everyone else goes hungry, but… but now other people gorge themselves on owning the trees.”

She smiles ruefully. “Then again, ownership is what allows me to tell people, no, you can’t use my likeness to market spam products. Actually happened this past week, there was this shovelware crowdfund that used old pictures of me to imply that it was Pro Gamer Content. I sent them this really… you know. [i]I’m asking you nicely not to do that, and if I have to ask again it won’t be nice.[/i] Do I still count as one of the tree owners if [i]I’m[/i] the tree?”

***

[b]The Park![/b]

“Shoo, shoo, go get dressed,” 3V says with a wave of her hands. “I’ll keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t get mobbed by cats.” (She lives on Aevum; cats are the first thing she thinks of when she thinks of “feral animals that run in packs.”)

The offer of a one-shot veers over her head because she wasn’t specifically invited. Not that she’s not interested, but she’s not the sort to butt into a home game. (Now, games at Gensoukyo, that’s something different entirely. That’s Her House.)

“Here, lemme help with breakfast— do you prefer Dr. Rolfe or Gavin? I’m fine with either.” And a parry: I’m cool with the dude, and not sure why you’re needling him. Like, if he was a Creep, the vibes you’re giving off would be way different, this is more like you’re worried he’s going to let something slip you haven’t told me?