Week 27- There is no friend as loyal as a book.

Parvati was relaxing, after the last two weeks she deserved it. She was sat in the seating area near the television cross legged on one of the sofa's, for once abandoned by the houses other occupants. They were all out, even Sosie was out somewhere most likely starting the long process of getting her cybernetics reinstalled, Ace had mumbled something about meeting Han, Darya was off likely shooting cultists in the face and Ida was out... somewhere.

Parvati sighed lightly relaxing as she reached for the glass of wine by her hand, she didn't drink much but a glass of wine now and then was no crime. She smiled down at the book in her lap, it was dog eared and well read already, it ought to be afterall she had read it many times since she had first gotten her hands on it all those years ago it was still one of her favourites and she was looking forward to an unbroken read through its dog eared pages.

"Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show..." it began

Bell had not yet interacted with Parvati... But she watched. The Indian woman cooked. She read. She talked about things Bell had only heard of, or things Bell had never heard of. She cried about the tsunami, and she sang. Bell was interested in singing. Bell was interested in most things.. And Bell was interested in Parvati.

Her mother was on the moon, to look at her new body and learn from Positron.. And Pinkie had gone with her girlfriend. Dusty had taken a keen interest in ridding the world of crime, and he had taken to jumping off the roof and attacking Bell's hornet. It was.. quiet. It was quiet all over, and Bell liked that.

Curious, she walked up the steps into the living area, passing on the nose her stealth check to be quiet to look over Parvati's shoulder.

Parvati was already too focused on her book to notice Bell's approach "To this hour I don't know whether my aunt had any lawful right of way over that patch of green;" She sipped her wine and was just placing it down when she finally noticed Bell's closeness.

She jumped slightly "Bell, you scared me." she says catching her breath, She had forgotten the young replicant, largely because Bell was the only person in the building quieter than she was (she didn't count Pinkie.) "Is something wrong? do you need help with something?"

Bell gave the questions some thought for a moment, large green eyes focusing on Parvati. After a long pause where she did not blink, she shook her head no. "I do not require help. I did not mean to startle you. I.. merely wished to know what you were reading. It is not Rainchild."

The last sentence seemed to be a statement of fact that Bell felt added to the conversation; her own reading experience was rather limited. She climbed over the back of the couch and took a seat a few feet away from Vati, mimicking her mother's graceless flop over the back of the sofa with perfect ease.

"No," Parvati shrugs "Dickens, David Copperfield." she says with a thin smile. "its one of my oldest favourites." she admits to the girl watching her carefully. "i have to admit that i've never really read any of Rainchild's books. The sharma never had a lot of recent books, mostly just old stuff like this." she says.

"Do you read much, bell?" she asks a little unsure exactly how to deal with Bell, both in terms of whether or not she was human but far more because she wasn't sure if she was talking with a child or with an adult, and whats worst it seemed to be the fact that the answer was some confusing mix of the two.

Bell didn't do much to alleviate Vati's confusion about her nature, shrugged with a shoulder. "Mom gave me all of Rainchild's work. I have read it all. Parts of it were very.. ..informative." This seemed to be all there would be in terms of review. "I have read to research stealth fields and human psychology, as well as various other topics in less depth, but I have not read many fictional works. Is that book fictional?"

Without moving from her seat, the little replicant leaned forward to look at the book, eyes very clearly taking in the details of faded pages. "Do you have many bound books? Almost all of Mom's are Rainchild's."

"A few," she says addressing the last question first "Mother Superior didn't believe that information was entirely real unless it was written down, She used to say that the important part was the physical, the texture and smell of a book." She smiles faintly "We had a lot of battered and dogeared books, that had seen lots of use and reading."

"As for it being fiction, yes mostly" she offers shifting to face Bell more directly "though there are parts to it that seem to verge on the autobiographical, if you read up on Dicken's himself." she explains.

Bell's brows furrowed slightly at the mention of information only being "real" when it was down in black and white; the little AI had a very different idea of what constituted as "real", and found herself constantly challenging the definitions of words she thought she knew. This is why it was easy to talk to Glockner. He explained. He explained during TV shows. Things made more sense with him around.

Her confused look cleared as she looked back at Parvati, face angelic and doll-like once more. Her eyes glowed for a second as her attentions went elsewhere, almost certainly looking something up the WDN.. "Charles Dickens? He has been dead for hundreds of years."

"yes," Parvati nods "many hundreds." she agrees with a faint smile "But I doubt unfortunately that he'd find all that much different today, We've traded Slums for Underswells and Good Queen Victoria for the UIG but in general I don't think we've changed all that much." she says with a shake of her head.

There was a very long pause on Bell's end. Once or twice her eyes glowed for a few moments, moving her eyes from the book to Parvati's face. Though her features were relaxed into their default doll-like expression, her eyes looked.. thoughtful. "I.. do not know much about history.. But I have read that it repeats."

She tilted her head again, and looked at the book, and then, slowly, down at her hands.

Parvati smiles "It can do, it depends on people." she says with a shrug. She watches Bell for a long moment before closing the book "Is something wrong?" she asks concerned, her brow furrowing.

"...I know much about replicants. How they were made. But not their.. stories. ..I do not know much history." Bell's dark eyes looked up from her hands and focused back again on the book. "I do not know very much yet. It is hard when I watch shows or listen to music. There is much I do not know. And I am not sure I would be able to tell it was repeating, or what was repeating." Bell shook her head, soft curls touching her shoulders, before falling completely still again.

Parvati smiles slightly "We all have to learn, to find the context for how we view the world. Its easy for us I suppose, we have all childhood to learn and slowly develop it. You seem to have gotten it all dropped on you at once." she says

"Information without experience, knowledge without wisdom. It must be very confusing." She says before offering Bell the book. "You can borrow it if you like, I'll go digging for various other books as well if you want. We can talk them through and see what you like, and what you can learn about us as to how we imagine the world."

"I can't promise a complete understanding of the world, past or present. Because I honestly don't have one myself. But if you want to understand people then our art is not a bad place to start."

Bell took the book wordlessly, looking over the cover and dog-eared pages. Her brows knit softly for a moment, obviously considering Parvati's words. "I would.. like that. I have been trying to understand humans, and if you think that this would help... Art is such a human, emotional creation. It sounds plausible."

She turned the book over in her hands, and then looked at the ex-Comoros agent, her eyes a shining green. "Thank you."

Parvati smiles "Man is an emotional beast, For all we demand that we are not." she says with a small chuckle. "If you like that I can recommend some others, and we can add some other cultures in. The Romance of the Three kingdoms and India's Own Mahabarata and Ramayana can more than keep up with anything written by Dickens or Shakespeare."

She looks to Bell "If you want to talk about them, or anything else... well I'm usually around and If I'm not you can always send me a message." she offers with a thin smile