IC Inbox

[doneisdone]

[Correspond at your own risk.]

Comments

[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]