PP: May I ask why you have sudden bursts of irrationality?

BW: Yes, and it's because I'm human.

PP: I have met many other humans, and they do not act as irrationally as you.

BW: If I'm acting irrationally, then I'm human, if I'm not, then I've been replaced with some sort of advanced grimm.

PP: Are you alright, friend Dove?

BW: Of course I'm perfectly fine. I've been normal for the last few days. I'm perfectly sane. Irrationality is perfectly normal and there is nothing wrong with it. If anything, you should be more afraid of the people who think that they're rational.

PP: Against my better judgement, I will ask: why?

BW: Because humans justify their actions in post. They tell themselves that they're rational so they can maintain some semblance of control over their terrible rotting lives. They tell themselves that they didn't have a choice. They tell themselves that what they did was reasonable. And yet we have things like gut calls, instinct, flight or flight, all things that are just off the cuff, going insane in order to survive in the moment. There is no single person who is sane. Rational. If they say they are, then they're the biggest nut-case you can ever find.

PP: Friend Dove, did you ever take medication before you came here?

BW: No Penny, I did not. I never took any sort of medication, if we're talking about the same medicine, and I don't talk to shrinks. I'm not here to get disqualified from my job, from my livelihood, career, whatever. And if there were still a shrink around today, I'd still not talk to them. I'm not a case study. Not a headcase.

PP: Friend Dove, you're concerning me.

BW: And would you quit it with that. I get you're my "friend". You don't need to say it. Every. Damn. Time. At this point it just feels like you're condescending me, telling me that I'm your friend, when you don't really mean it.

PP: I did not intend for it to be taken in that manner. I will do my best to change my behavior in the future.

BW: And what is with this super formal, precise language. You're always so stiff. Robotic. I'm talking to a box, and it clanks back.

PP: Dove, calm down. You're looking incredibly tense.

PP: Dove, I cannot talk to you if you're going to attempt to destroy the keyboard.

PP: Dove, please stop. Punching the wall is not going to make it better. What is the issue that has you so upset?

BW: Everything. I'm a terrified child trapped in a bunker with a box. Is that what you want me to say? Is that what you want to hear? That I'm just another pathetic worm compared to your formal and well-built circuits? I'm not going to do that.

PP: Do what exactly?

BW: I don't trust you. I don't trust me. I don't trust anyone. Everyone stays safer that way. Fingers on the trigger, knowing that if they pull, someone else does as well. Isn't that the safest thing in the world.

PP: Dove, your behavior is concerning me. Please calm down so we can talk.

BW: Calm down. How? When? Where? I don't know. I'm just like you, so often. You just don't know. You don't understand. A blank slate where you're told what to think, what to know, what to do. Then again, who isn't?

PP: Dove. I believe I am beginning to understand what you are trying to say, but you are losing control over yourself. It is not healthy to keep your aura up for so long. Why are you keeping your aura up?

PP: Dove. I am right here. Please talk to me.

BW: I need time to think. I can't think.

PP: Understood. Please feel better soon.