"Have you ever had an impression of someone and want that to be them completely? That one thing. That great thing." He hadn't realized how close he had leaned into the table until he felt the heat of the centerpiece candle. He had been strange for the past week or so. Mísol didn't want to push him since she thought it was work related stress. But she admitted to herself that his line of questioning was odd.
The painter looks at him seriously for a minute. "Flaws and even ugliness are a given, which is normal, so acceptable." She had thought she was helping confirm his suspicions. Since the PolitiCat fiasco the line seemed to be unclear. Despite his business being inherently good-natured, some of the clientele and everyday consumer questioned that. Mísol thought the 'someone' he was talking about were the AIs. That in a roundabout way he was asking her what she thought the public opinion on his harmless creations were.
Just like that he dropped the subject. But he was noticeably less chatty and open. Completely disappointed.
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