Raz was familiar with the feeling of being pulled aside and Talked To by his designated adults.

This might have been the first time he was so excited about it, however.

The office he’d been ushered into was odd, but only just. Unlike Milla’s [office], it had all the hallmarks of a corporate workspace: desks set up in corner, a pair of chairs that probably spent a substantial amount of time running into one another in the limited space between them, shelves crammed with books and a number of certificates hanging near the [workspace]. The couch and low table by the window weren’t so out of the ordinary, but then there were details like the purple orbs floating in the very corner, between the desks, the room’s primary light source in spite of the fact that it was [x] am– or the fact that, in terms of temperature, it was completely neutral, a marked contrast to the ambient chill of the Motherlobe proper.

He must have made some kind of face, because the younger Motif laughed at him while the elder waved the blinds open.

“We compromise. It’s an important part of any partnership.”

“Psycho-synergy is made, not found.”

Raz paused mid-step, “Wait, for real?”

“While yes, some personalities types are more compatible than others, you can’t build an enduring [partnership] on that alone.” Ingo shook his head and [ushered] Raz further in, pointing to him with one hand and to the couch with the other, “If you’d like to speak on the matter in greater depth, I’m afraid it has to wait for another day. We have an itinerary to keep.”

As he trotted past, Raz shook his head, “No, I just mean– psycho-synergy’s a real thing?”

Though neither turned to the other in full, both twins’ eyes darted over to where their brother stood.

“Who told you it wasn’t?”

“Uh…”