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The first experience that Mimsy had with allowing Svensyl to inhabit a golem was negative. It was 'negative' because there was not really any word worse than that to be used in a descriptive technical context, and because he was truly awful as a standard. The absence of his constant babbling was pleasant, but the whole experiment was a net loss. Certainly not worth all of the energy expended while trying to repair any damage that his words had done, or the incentive pay they had been promised.

Months passed, and the irritation over his actions must have begun to dull. She had a small flicker of an idea that would be improved by his separation from her once more, so she carried him to the W-type Pods with the intention of renting a golem.

But now that she was staring over at the Jabberwocky's golem again, she wasn't sure what had made her think that this was a good idea. He was busy going through all of the possible expressions that a monster could make to express mockery, and she was standing in front of him with a look of vague bewilderment, the tip of her pen bleeding an expanding dot on the notepad she held.

"This is the most wonderfect of feelings! None of the mind-scrawfle between us," he finally said, waving a clawed hand in front of her face. She looked substantially less delighted about this moment, and was only able to get in a quick nod before he snatched at her arm and tried to pull her down the hallway, a broad smile on his face.

"Come! We seek the beamish boy for kissing!"

There was a strange rustling sort of noise as a teal-colored golem burst forth, apparently unable to restrain himself during his eavesdropping any longer. "That is the idiotest advice that--"

Mimsy quickly halted Svensyl's commentary to Song by yanking on the closest of his wings, cost of damages be damned. Thankfully, it did nothing more than make the blundering Jabberwocky stumble and glare at her as dramatically as his humanoid golem could manage. Had he been able to take a more natural form, he was sure that this exchange would not be happening at all.

Because she would be eaten. Ha ha!

In lieu of an apology, Mimsy said nothing, preferring the option where there was no time wasted on senseless smalltalk with weapon golems. She stepped past Svensyl and stopped short of the other pair, curtly inspecting the golem.

"Is this yours?" she asked, glancing at Lucky.

Lucky's confusion at her question confused Mimsy in turn, and she tilted her head just slightly, unsure of the proper response to this. Song's response only made it a little better, considering the answer was to a question she hadn't asked. Close enough; it wasn't as if she couldn't connect the pieces into the answer she had actually expected.

"Ah..." She frowned. "Cute?"

Song spoke of him as if she were talking about a pet, which was not the dynamic between the two that she had previously assumed. If that were not the case, she couldn't discern the motives behind asking her such a thing, so she moved along.

"Yes, I am. You must be Song." She hesitated before extending her hand towards the golem, assuring herself with a reminder that it could do no serious physical harm.

While most everyone was distracted, Svensyl reached to deftly pluck Mimsy's phone from her pocket, tossed it up and down in one hand, and began playing the game of 'estimate which of Lucky's pockets looked the heaviest'. Once he was satisfied that he had guessed properly, he slipped two fingers into his coat pocket and returned with a phone. Paraphones! A pair of phones!

Holding Mimsy's phone in his left hand and Lucky's in his right, he scrolled simultaneously through messages and information on each of them until things began to look interesting. Easier for Mimsy than Lucky - this was a sort of gibberish that he didn't speak.

"Fortuitous In Green," he called, keeping his back turned to all of them. Couldn't let on that he was ruining everything, after all. "What dialect of gibberish is in your mouth? Nroethn? Tsh st?"

The lips against Mimsy's ear made her own lips part, allowing a startled gasp that she didn't have time to suppress. She didn't move away from her, but was quick to retaliate nonetheless.

"If that is what you think, then you are the one lacking intelligence," she asserted, before falling immediately silent at the touch against her cheek. Every inch of her body tensed, her steady breathing even coming to a halt, as though something within her thought that ceasing to do anything would prevent that disquieting feeling and the memories that followed from sinking in again.

Whether learned over time or not desired from the beginning, she scarcely felt the need to be loved like most others did. There wasn't something missing when she thought about the lack of affectionate connection in her life, but when she thought about the single thing that did love her to a degree that no other human being had ever come close to achieving...it made her wish, sometimes, that someone else would adore her just to take its place.

But in twelve years, nobody ever had. Even though the lack of care that Song attributed to her should have meant that labeling her 'unlovable' wouldn't matter, it was the one word of every venomous thing she said that pained her the most.

When her refusal to breathe began to make the world a bit too blurry, she inhaled a shaky lungful of air and pulled her hand away. Song had made an implication that Lucky spoke far less English than she thought, which was alarming in the sense that Mimsy had absolutely no way to verify if her words were being distorted or not, but comforting in the moment: she could say what might resonate most with Song, while avoiding social complications with Lucky.

"Helpless without you?" Her words were hoarse, contrary to her solid, unyielding stare. "You attribute far too much credit to yourself, and to him. Without you I would have found someone else to make the mistake of trusting me on field missions. Without you I would have one less assistant who manages to, just by existing in my company, fool the others into thinking that I have any desire to make friends in this place. Without you I am short one single bargaining chip - an easily replaceable piece of synthetic material that is only worth what it can be traded for. I assure you that my investment in my continued existence far outweighs my investment in 'your' hunter's, and that the options I choose to offer to him do not always reflect the options that I might choose for myself." Any wavering in her words was gone by now, replaced by the familiar blunt monotony.

"And I believe it is worth mentioning: a person with a 'black hole' of a heart would be indicative of a person who took everything to heart, or let person after person into their heart unceasingly, at which point it would hardly be little. A black hole absorbs matter and keeps it for eons, and is not devoid of matter at all. I will be bold enough to claim that, by its definition, this is almost the antonym of what you believe my 'heart' to be. Would you agree?" Her thumb idly ran the length of the pen she held, as if her thoughts were with something she would rather be writing instead. "Perhaps your grasp of celestial terminology would be more impressive to someone without a degree in astrophysics. I am really quite surprised that you failed to remember that simple fact about me, considering how easily you make claims about my character."

She looked at Lucky and tried to gauge whether or not there had been any truth to her statement about translations. For the sake of the argument, she would have to just continue with the assumption that he really couldn't understand any of her full sentences. There was no need, then, to make a show of a heartfelt claim that she refused to be without him.

"I will make this simple enough for you to understand: only one of us is strong enough to not require a puppet." She paused, then smiled. "How is the golem holding up, by the way? Are you experiencing any negative side effects? Feeling weak in the absence of your host, perhaps? I wouldn't be too concerned; I understand that it is a relatively common sensation for parasitoid organisms."

Svensyl, after learning the source of the Green One's dialect, had been watching him with a look that showed intense disinterest.

"Hmmm, Polish. I don't like it! Doesn't roll into your teethbones like a Tshren ccnaite! You're also very boring!" He reached forward to poke Lucky's nose with his claw. "Your friends are much more fasciresting."

He turned so only Mimsy's phone was in view, and shoved it in Lucky's field of vision for a few seconds; long enough for a communication of some sort to be apparent, but brief enough to prevent him from really reading any of the words. Especially since they were all in English.

"I want to be somewhere else. Show me somewhere else!"