... because I posted some other words on the Roger Steel forum and didn't want you equally wonderful, albeit somewhat necrophilic, folks out.
This is actual first draft dialogue from the game, from near the beginning and covers Lily and Ace’s first meeting. This particular bit is from Lily’s point of view, but Ace’s will play out similarly. And before people ask... no, Ace and Lily can’t romance each other. But no one said anything about flirting...
Anyway, comments welcome. Please be gentle...
I wasn't left alone for long.
I stood contemplating a bare wall and wondering what to put there, and where exactly I would get it from. Shops seemed in short supply in my dream world.
I reflected on what Angelika-with-a-'k' had told me. Maybe I should just create my own ossuary and be satisfied.
Then I caught myself. What was I thinking?! Making plans as if I was going to be here for... for eternity.
It's a dream, damn it! Just a bloody persistent lucid dream!
I turned to walk outside for some fresh air and almost collided with someone entering...
"Don't you people knock?!" I snarled; Ace grinned.
My gaze automatically fell down his chest. There was no sign of a wound. Not so much as a speck of blood on his ridiculous costume. This somehow made me even more irritated.
"Well, who's in charge of fixing doors in this place?"
"You are. It's your abode. Do what you want. Knock yourself out. But please, no drapes on the windows."
He leered at me and before I thought things through I laid a heavy palm against his tattooed cheek. It stung like hell but was oh so worth it. I felt much better.
The grin never left his face, not so much as slipped. In fact he laughed.
"Angel been teaching you a few tricks? No spears yet though. You're just a baby. A babe, anyway."
My voice was ice. "What do you want?"
"Just a friendly call. We need to get a few things straight."
"We certainly do. This is my dream and if I'm going to be stuck here you can start treating me with a bit of respect!"
"You are very determined to deny reality, aren't you?"
He strode into the middle of my room as if it were his own.
"No wonder your place has all the charm of a cargo crate. At least there's a bed...”
He wagged an eyebrow at me. I choked down a surge of unwanted amusement. He looked so ridiculous. He was a clown, an imposter, a sleaze. How on earth had my imagination concocted such a creature?
"I was flattered that you fainted after seeing me get speared by crazy Angie."
"I didn't faint. I was trying to wake up!"
"No you weren't. The shock loosened the fragile hold your newly liberated soul had on your self-image. You almost ended up back like one of them. And then Mantras would have been pissed."
I closed my eyes and shook my head.
"I didn't understand a word you just said."
Ace shrugged, spun around and sat himself on my bed, leaning back and propping himself up on his elbows, leering at me as if expecting me to helplessly succumb to his non-existent charms.
Keep dreaming, buster, I told him wordlessly with compressed lips and flashing eyes. At least I hoped my eyes were flashing lightning bolts at his smug ugly mug.
"Then allow me to enlighten you, dear lady."
His eyes travelled the length and breadth (not that there's much breadth, you understand: I just want to make that clear! I'm very lithe for my age...) of me.
"My god, you are a magnificent creature," he murmured. I glowered at him.
"You are not enlightening me."
"But you are me, my dear."
He held up his hand as if to ward off further strikes and laughed.
"Alright! Alright! I'll explain how things stand. Firstly, no matter what you think, you are not dreaming. It'll take a while to sink in. It does for us all."
"But you can relax. You never have to worry about going back to whatever sordid organic existence you led before your untimely death. I am assuming it was untimely. The details are vague but from hints old Mantras has dropped, the pattern is clear. We all died horribly before our time."
"So Mantras knows...?" I began.
"What Mantras knows he is not telling. Believe me, most of us have tried getting information from the old bastard at one time or another. But he's tight as a nun with his information."
He faked concern.
"No disrespect! You're not a nun, are you? No, I guess not. You look more like a dancer to me."
The way he said 'dancer' made me immediately suspect some double entendre, but with his eyes narrowed speculatively he looked as if he were advancing a serious suggestion for once.
I covered my confusion by posing another question.
"And how would you know a real dancer if you saw one?"
Ace levered himself up on my bed and clasped his hands on his knees, surveying my floor as if reading the answers in the bare earth. (God, I really must decorate!)
When he was being serious, I almost liked him.
"We might not have memories but we have knowledge. It's what makes us useful to Mantras. We know, somehow, what our physical bodies experienced but we know nothing about the individuals we were who had those experiences. I guess it is like a dream in a way."
I regarded him thoughtfully. "You have thought about this like I have. Angel... Angel gave me the impression she cannot even bear to contemplate what happened before."
"Maybe it's because we are avatars of death. We are not afraid to probe where others find too much..."
He remained silent a long time, still as a statue, staring at the floor his expression hidden from me.
"...pain and suffering to deal with."
He suddenly got up and looked at me with such unexpected seriousness that he became a completely different person.
"We are Death and nothing can daunt us, Lily. How about that then? Aren't we the lucky ones?"
He walked past me into the day and I stared after him lost for words.