Yes, that seems in order. Yalso. New icon-picture.
Yes, that seems in order. Yalso. New icon-picture.
Suitov: I sneaked around to the stage door and stood there preening. Several audience members mistook me for a member of the cast. I've no idea who. #
Basaltine: Probly the pantomime cow ;p #
Weft: The golden tassels on milord's jacket don't shampoo and condition themselves. You think they're EASY to reach with the straightening tongs? #
Nico: Tassels? :D #
Weft: The barbarians never invented buttons. They hold their clothing closed with little cords. How dumb is that? :D #
Nico: Makes for some appealing designs, particularly if you're into corsage-look. #
Weft: If I'd been bodyguard to someone at the royal palace... All those clothes... *looks dreamy* #
Basaltine: I found a black forest gâteau in a bin. The cream had gone a funny colour. Why people throw these things away is beyond me. #
Suitov: This town has six more mayors than it needs. The main street is full of holes that enterprising wheelwrights have filled with nails. Woeful. #
Weft: I don't like this place. Two rival muggers both tried to get me to sign their receipts. You can't tell me that's any way to run a town #
Weft: I killed both muggers, obviously, and when we came by the alley later on there were four teams of police jostling each other to investigate! #
Basaltine: They have six currencies here. I tried to buy a rubber bone from a trader and he had a haggling war with himself. I got it free!#bestdayever #
Suitov: One of the mayors was caught in the bed of another. Apparently this is disallowed. Much gossip in patisseries. There is talk of impeachment. #
Suitov: Enemy scouts approaching... through a field of wild poppies. Too easy; but then again, that tends to go hand-in-hand with fewer casualties. #
Weft: :O You killed them! They're dead! You killed them all!!! #
Suitov: Yes, they're dead. All dead people snore. Everybody knows that. Look, that one is cuddling a toy lamb while being dead. #
Weft: ...I admit that I may have possibly deserved that irony sir. #
Suitov: Come, we'd better be gone before they wake up. I don't think I can hide all of us long enough for them to pass out of sight. #
Basaltine: I STOLD THIS ONE'S SANDWICHES!!!! :D #
Herm: Ree, BTW, am talking to Vespers over email about romance. JJ & Iceheart have been mentioned. If her ears are burning (chilly?) that's why. #
Ree: JJ+Sv = OTP <3 <3 <3 #
Herm: *now feels guilty for having told Vespy about the Other Woman from Sv's past* #
Ree: Pasht suggests they combine forces and OT3. I think she's been reading too much babylonvenus fic. #
Herm: :D Well, JJ may have the precedent, but Suitov's so boringly monogamous... #
Ree: Jaina's mono, too. The Terrareen vampire hunters are open to polyamory, but members don't have to be poly. #
Basaltine: nobody who meets Fi is mono. I knew her before she became a foreign dignitary, and home, I ttly would. #
Suitov: @Basaltine No, you will not. #
Ree: (Hee. <3 ) #
Weft: *I* don't see what's so special about her. She's all clever and... clever. And a bit overweight. Her wardrobe, though... *dreamy* #
Weft: Jaina doesn't do the smirking thing and she doesn't steal other people's men, she isn't all cunning and she has scruples. She's nicer. #
Suitov: *Borrows.* Fi borrows other people's men, and women. By arrangement. You don't understand court politics at all, you lucky man. #
Weft: I don't want to, Lordship. #
Basaltine: if Jaina ever dumped Iceheart and really wanted to hurt him, she should get with Fi. Would break his hart. And be hottt. #
Suitov: *is glad he isn't capable of looking any such thing as "paler than usual" * #
Ree: Keep dreaming, love. #
Basaltine: I love you too <3 *tummyrubs? wagwagwag* #
Suitov: Did you know, also, that technically I do have a duty to be marriageable? It's stupid when the enemy's not even from the same planet, but by law, I don't get to marry without royal permission during wartime, in case my hand is needed as a deal-sweetener.
Suitov: It's such fun to be a commodity!
Weft: Sure is!
Suitov: ...I was being sarcastic.
Weft: I was agreeing.
Anke: Usually I hear that role only foisted on women
Suitov: Women too.
Suitov: Don't worry, though. If I'm trapped in an arranged marriage to someone mean, I'll faint dramatically and throw a tantrum and then escape by climbing down my bedsheets.
Anke: that's smart
Anke: Or you could ask Weft to kill them ^_^
Suitov: And if anyone tries to make me wear a corset I'll turn blue in the face and collapse.
Suitov: Alas, owing to certain misunderstandings, I'm not allowed near the crown cities armed. And Weft, even naked, probably counts as a weapon.
Suitov: However, despite a lengthy demonstration during the Games, nobody seems to have reclassified *me* as a weapon.
Anke: how very vexing
Suitov: Other than that's why I'm not allowed to enter a castle with a penknife anywhere about my person.
Suitov: Clever, isn't it? I demonstrate that I'm dangerous unarmed, and Roy invokes a law that says I'm not allowed to carry a weapon... a weapon, I might add, which would actually slow me down for a few seconds while I threw it aside.
Suitov: EPIC LOGIC WIN
Suitov: Shouldn't grumble, though. Similar tyrants would have had me executed.
Anke: For what, exactly?
Suitov: Existing during his reign.
Suitov: Well, more seriously, being a scary wyrd.
Suitov: Well, all right, a loud, inexperienced, opinionated wyrd.
Suitov: Basically, being an idiot.
This man's alter-ego talks surprisingly much sense. "Mmm... power..."
***Anke realises that what with living on an island, Sylvie's probably used to quid and/or octopus as part of meals...( Further excerpts followCollapse )
Sylvie: ... and PEOPLE that share characteristics with fish. Not everything that lives in the sea is food. >:|
Anke: You definitely need to tell me more about those merfolk...
Suitov: I'm from a landlocked country. For me [squid] they're curiosities.
Weft: They're nummy as long as they're cooked right. Deep-fried tentacle can be pretty gross.
Anke: deep-fried tentacle - you know, rings in batter - are the only kind I might maybe try...
Weft: Sure, if you want to destroy the texture and flavour. It's best when it's so fresh it's practically still wriggling.
Siri: UGH! *caught the last part of that conversation and runs off, hands over ears*
Sylvie: Oh, no- That's locusts you're thinking of.
Suitov: Oh, yes.
Weft: ........you are SO not helping your "not a lizard" image here, lordship.
Sylvie: ... or so they say. I prefer them roasted. :)
Suitov: I've tried them very lightly toasted and salted with... something. I didn't bother getting the recipe, but it wasn't bad.
Sylvie: chili's alway good for seasoning
Anke: I had a hunch that she likes talking about food. I might have to read up on recipes...
Suitov: Surely you don't get many locust swarms on the Islands, do you?
Anke: And on locusts. :D
Herm: Was playing a pirate-themed D&D game once, and a huge swarm of locusts came bombing out of a harbour and towards our ship, making for the tasty-looking sails. That was a great game.
Sylvie: Well, grasshoppers and things... My vocabulary may be lacking a bit.
Weft: Locusts don't happen in civilisation. I have a hunch they happen in like stupid farming places that don't count.
Anke: * everybody is speechless at the city-monk who doesn't know where food comes from *
* Weft looks sulky
Sylvie: "Stupid farming places" grow your food.
Weft: Nuh-uh, food comes from the fish market.
Basaltine: .... At least that's better than "food comes from the tin my owner opens"...
Sylvie: How does the food come to the fish market?
Weft: *as if this is the stupidest thing he's ever heard* By wagon and barge.
Sylvie: Where do the wagons and barges get the food?
Weft: It gets put on them.
Sylvie: Where does it come from before it gets pu on the vehicles?
Weft: Workers or slaves or someone bring it I guess.
Sylvie: Where do they get it?
Weft: I don't know. That's their job.
Sylvie: Fish is caught in the sea or river or lakes. Grain or vegetables or fruit are grown on farms. Poultry or any other animals killed for meat are raised on farms, too.
Weft: That sounds inefficient.
Zashta: It's more efficient to raise them than than trying to catch wild birds or goats. And the meat is better, too.
Weft: But can't they... just... drop from the sky or something?
Weft: Like in the scriptures.
Anke: I guess you need to complain to your gods about that.
Weft: I... think I'll just keep going to the market.
Pro tip: Don't come after a startled battle-mage when armed with flintlock rifles. She won't like it.
Herm: #vss There was a game among his generals. It was called "how will milord Suitov fake his own death to avoid a portrait sitting THIS week?" #
Anke: OK, so Nico put "polaroid camera" on the Christmas list. :P #
Herm: Suitov says he'll start experimenting immediately on ways to destroy film. #
Anke: Ah, so it is not the "sitting around is a waste of time" bit, but he doesn't want pictures of himself around? #
Herm: "Both and more." #
Anke: Innnteresting #
Herm: "I'm terrified people will find out about my Dorian Gray pact!" he whispers hoarsely, his eyes convincingly sunken and lips trembling. #
Anke: Really honoured he'd tell me that. *sniff* (*quietly puts "dark chocolate Oscars" in his Christmas list*) #
Well, the first tweet is canon.