"I said what you wanted me to say," Orb protested quietly. "But that isn't possible. He would never do something like that."

The room was dark enough for ten night skies. Orb preferred it that way. He said the light hurt his eyes. If his line of reasoning was followed to its natural conclusion, however, he had no eyes and all of this was nothing but a fairy tale living in one god's mind. Since Scythe did not believe in such stories he didn't credit them with any measure of truth. Therefore Orb in his mind was nothing but a charlatan. A wide-eyed fool of a charlatan who could not even keep his own lies straight in his head. Scythe felt certain that, if his entire discourse with other persons consisted of falsehood and vague innuendo, he would establish a system to make it sound at the very least consistent. Oa did not seem disturbed by this. She was tapping a fan against the palm of her hand, imitating a lady that they'd seen earlier in the day. That one had died screaming for what she knew. What she knew was the current source of debate. And one that Scythe did not especially enjoy having - the reason for his relative silence.

( The other two went on and on. )