IC Inbox

[doneisdone]

[Correspond at your own risk.]

Comments

[doneisdone]

[This has happened before: she's placed a voice before a face, found familiarity with someone before ever meeting them, and it's all the fault of those infernal crystals.

Finally, something clicks in her mind, and her eyes seem to lose some of their luster.]

...you're John Silver.

[Maker preserve us.]

[hornswoggle]

[ Honestly, it's actually very nostalgic to receive this reception. Ah, the days when he was just an annoyance for most people. ]

I am. I believe you're familiar with my partner, Commander Flint.

[ And apparently with John, but he can only assume it is for obviously great and flattering reasons. ]

[doneisdone]

Yes.

[She takes another spoonful.]

[hornswoggle]

So, about the songs...

[ come on, teren. ]

[doneisdone]

Not much at writing.

[hornswoggle]

[ Taking out a small sheaf of paper, John hums in acknowledgement. ]

Do you have a favored song?

[ This is happening, Teren. ]

[doneisdone]

None come to mind.

[Maybe if she evades him long enough, he'll go away, and Flint will come back, or maybe all of them will sink into the sea and die and she won't have to care anymore.]

[hornswoggle]

Hm.

[ Undeterred by lack of enthusiasm: the John Silver story ]

Have you heard the one about the bear and the Chantry sister? It's very catchy.

[doneisdone]

[Her eyes glaze over as she continues eating and doesn't answer. She has a feeling she's going to hear it no matter what she says.]

[hornswoggle]

[ Good instincts, Teren.

However— ]

I'd have thought you'd be more interested, considering the song is about you.

[doneisdone]

[That gets her attention. Her eyes snap to him.]

What--

[hornswoggle]

Celebrating your valor, of course.

[ SURPRISE ]

[doneisdone]

[She narrows her eyes.]

You're full of shite.

[hornswoggle]

I'm absolutely sincere.

[ decisive scratch of pen on paper. what rhymes with both "teren" and "dragon" ]

[doneisdone]

Then sing it.

[hornswoggle]

I cannot sing something that's yet to be finished.

[ no sneak peeks ]

But if I do my work properly, you'll be hearing it in every tavern across the Free Marches.

[doneisdone]

[One claw-like finger stabs onto the parchment.]

Then you're full of shite.

[Is that pride at herself, for catching him out?]

[hornswoggle]

I can promise you, I'm very committed to this particular venture.

[ He will see this through out of spite alone, don't test hIM ]

Would you like a singing messenger to herald the finished draft around the Gallows?

[doneisdone]

I'd like you to go shove your head in a bucket.

[She finishes her meal and shoves the bowl aside, not getting up yet, since it takes a bit more energy than she has to storm off in a huff.]

[hornswoggle]

Ah, it's been some time since I've heard that.

[ Nostalgia. ]

Would you like me to leave your name out of it? Would you prefer to be a mystery?

[doneisdone]

I'd prefer that you go away. [Her voice has risen minutely. The threshold beyond which sharp objects start to appear is fast approaching.]

[hornswoggle]

[ Also a very familiar tone. This brings back so many fun memories.

But still, John knows when to cut his losses. He levers himself up, preferring to avoid a potential stabbing. ]

I'll send you a draft.

[ This is happening, sorry Teren. ]

[doneisdone]

Mmn.

[blood will be shed before this ordeal concludes]