[Arno's understanding of television is that someone has used science to project plays into people's homes. Or other forms of information too, he supposes, like the adverts section performances at the cafe. And then, once they've done that, they can record and share them again. He's not particularly scientific, Arno, so the explanation works for him. Or it does a vague job anyway.]

Ah so it is. When the public can watch proceedings, they are more than happy to. It takes a lot to be admitted to an inner sanctum to watch politics in action, but they flock to it. And, of course, the executions. Nothing like a good beheading for entertainment. I do think I prefer the sort on pages still to those.

[It IS, isn't it? Especially the way he makes it exaggeratedly clear that he's evading things. It almost gives one the impression that he's playing up his little club, instead of downplaying what they do. It's a fun approach to take, and he's so sick of being cautious. Besides, for all intents and purposes, he's technically kicked out of the Paris chapter and needs to find another soon.

Which does tie into what she's saying.]

Rather good tactic, yes. Shame-mongering and all the rest. Being on the opposite side of that's rather unfun. [And then he's making a rather sad, pathetic, popping sound, drawing it out so it's quietly disappointing more than anything else.

"Ah yes, the implosions. Saddest part just there. So much shaking on the foundations of everything."