(no subject)

Piffish Noodles and Pain [18 Chirreb 4261]

I duly delivered the piffish noodles to Vae, along with the paper that she requested. (She is going to write a story, with prime characters, sort of along the lines of the childrens' stories I've been selling her. She wanted to write it on prime paper, therefore. (I think she's fishing for good things to get from Vheshrame -- the fact that she generically craves prime things doesn't mean she wants anything in particular. Or anything sensible.) I promised her I'd read it. I'm sure I'll be able to find something polite to say.)

That is not true of all her artistry.

Vae:"There's a little present I made for Real-Eel, like. Since I can't send the Vingi of hers off to the wherever of his."

Me:"Well, that's nice and polite of you. Nothing that would get her in trouble with the Duke, I hope?"

Vae:"No, just a mouse."

Me:"Well, I daresay the ducal taxes on mice aren't so large. May I see this famous mouse?"

Vae:"Oh, my surely!" I am annoyed with her, so I am translating her a bit more literally than I sometimes do. She was speaking the Nice Language, which she often does to me. I don't generally speak it back to her.

I am annoyed with her because it wasn't a very pleasant mouse to look at. It was an even less pleasant mouse to be, I think. It was trapped in a little bubble of braided places, so it could run for yards and yards, without ever leaving the palm of your hand. It was being chased by little fire wasps. Every once in a while, a tiny rabbit-goblin would appear and ram a tiny Locador-composed needle through its paw, and then heal it with a really nasty jagged Mutoc healing spell.

Me:"Um ... Vae? What is this about?"

Vae:"Oh, nothing but a model is it, but it's neat and appealing. The thought's on me that Real-Eel would like it."

Me:"I can't think why. She's not wholly horrid."

(I just realized that I called Vaisessasilmin wholly horrid, which probably isn't wise. Either she didn't notice, or she didn't want to argue the point. (Yes, she is wholly horrid, but at least she doesn't take offense at me very easily.))

Vae:"I hope she likes it."

Me:"I suppose we can give it to the Sleeth." Then something wholly horrid occurred to me. As I get more used to Vae I should start to realize these things earlier. "What's it a model for?"

Vae:"Oh, it's some Gormoror assassins from Psent who need their punishing. It's bone insects painted green they are until I decide what to do with them.... Is there a good idea with you, Sythyry?"

Oh, dearie.

[Poll #551629]

(no subject)

Piffish Noodles and Pain [18 Chirreb 4261]

I duly delivered the piffish noodles to Vae, along with the paper that she requested. (She is going to write a story, with prime characters, sort of along the lines of the childrens' stories I've been selling her. She wanted to write it on prime paper, therefore. (I think she's fishing for good things to get from Vheshrame -- the fact that she generically craves prime things doesn't mean she wants anything in particular. Or anything sensible.) I promised her I'd read it. I'm sure I'll be able to find something polite to say.)

That is not true of all her artistry.

Vae:"There's a little present I made for Real-Eel, like. Since I can't send the Vingi of hers off to the wherever of his."

Me:"Well, that's nice and polite of you. Nothing that would get her in trouble with the Duke, I hope?"

Vae:"No, just a mouse."

Me:"Well, I daresay the ducal taxes on mice aren't so large. May I see this famous mouse?"

Vae:"Oh, my surely!" I am annoyed with her, so I am translating her a bit more literally than I sometimes do. She was speaking the Nice Language, which she often does to me. I don't generally speak it back to her.

I am annoyed with her because it wasn't a very pleasant mouse to look at. It was an even less pleasant mouse to be, I think. It was trapped in a little bubble of braided places, so it could run for yards and yards, without ever leaving the palm of your hand. It was being chased by little fire wasps. Every once in a while, a tiny rabbit-goblin would appear and ram a tiny Locador-composed needle through its paw, and then heal it with a really nasty jagged Mutoc healing spell.

Me:"Um ... Vae? What is this about?"

Vae:"Oh, nothing but a model is it, but it's neat and appealing. The thought's on me that Real-Eel would like it."

Me:"I can't think why. She's not wholly horrid."

(I just realized that I called Vaisessasilmin wholly horrid, which probably isn't wise. Either she didn't notice, or she didn't want to argue the point. (Yes, she is wholly horrid, but at least she doesn't take offense at me very easily.))

Vae:"I hope she likes it."

Me:"I suppose we can give it to the Sleeth." Then something wholly horrid occurred to me. As I get more used to Vae I should start to realize these things earlier. "What's it a model for?"

Vae:"Oh, it's some Gormoror assassins from Psent who need their punishing. It's bone insects painted green they are until I decide what to do with them.... Is there a good idea with you, Sythyry?"

Oh, dearie.

[Poll #551629]

(no subject)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

Piffish Noodles and Pain [18 Chirreb 4261]

I duly delivered the piffish noodles to Vae, along with the
paper that she requested. (She is going to write a story,
with prime characters, sort of along the lines of the
childrens’ stories I’ve been selling her. She wanted to
write it on prime paper, therefore. (I think she’s fishing
for good things to get from Vheshrame — the fact that she
generically craves prime things doesn’t mean she wants
anything in particular. Or anything sensible.) I promised
her I’d read it. I’m sure I’ll be able to find something
polite to say.)

That is not true of all her artistry.

Vae:“There’s a little present I made for Real-Eel,
like. Since I can’t send the Vingi of hers off to the
wherever of his.”

Me:“Well, that’s nice and polite of you.
Nothing that would get her in trouble with the Duke, I
hope?”

Vae:“No, just a mouse.”

Me:“Well, I daresay the ducal taxes on mice
aren’t so large. May I see this famous mouse?”

Vae:“Oh, my surely!” I am annoyed with
her, so I am translating her a bit more literally than I
sometimes do. She was speaking the Nice Language, which she
often does to me. I don’t generally speak it back to her.

I am annoyed with her because it wasn’t a very pleasant
mouse to look at. It was an even less pleasant mouse to be,
I think. It was trapped in a little bubble of braided
places, so it could run for yards and yards, without ever
leaving the palm of your hand. It was being chased by
little fire wasps. Every once in a while, a tiny
rabbit-goblin would appear and ram a tiny Locador-composed
needle through its paw, and then heal it with a really nasty
jagged Mutoc healing spell.

Me:“Um … Vae? What is this about?”

Vae:“Oh, nothing but a model is it, but it’s
neat and appealing. The thought’s on me that Real-Eel would
like it.”

Me:“I can’t think why. She’s not wholly
horrid.”

(I just realized that I called Vaisessasilmin wholly horrid,
which probably isn’t wise. Either she didn’t notice, or she
didn’t want to argue the point. (Yes, she is wholly horrid,
but at least she doesn’t take offense at me very easily.))

Vae:“I hope she likes it.”

Me:“I suppose we can give it to the
Sleeth.” Then something wholly horrid occurred to me.
As I get more used to Vae I should start to realize these
things earlier. “What’s it a model for?”

Vae:“Oh, it’s some Gormoror assassins from
Psent who need their punishing. It’s bone insects painted
green they are until I decide what to do with them…. Is
there a good idea with you, Sythyry?”

Oh, dearie.

[Poll #551629]

(no subject)

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

Piffish Noodles and Pain [18 Chirreb 4261]

I duly delivered the piffish noodles to Vae, along with the
paper that she requested. (She is going to write a story,
with prime characters, sort of along the lines of the
childrens’ stories I’ve been selling her. She wanted to
write it on prime paper, therefore. (I think she’s fishing
for good things to get from Vheshrame — the fact that she
generically craves prime things doesn’t mean she wants
anything in particular. Or anything sensible.) I promised
her I’d read it. I’m sure I’ll be able to find something
polite to say.)

That is not true of all her artistry.

Vae:“There’s a little present I made for Real-Eel,
like. Since I can’t send the Vingi of hers off to the
wherever of his.”

Me:“Well, that’s nice and polite of you.
Nothing that would get her in trouble with the Duke, I
hope?”

Vae:“No, just a mouse.”

Me:“Well, I daresay the ducal taxes on mice
aren’t so large. May I see this famous mouse?”

Vae:“Oh, my surely!” I am annoyed with
her, so I am translating her a bit more literally than I
sometimes do. She was speaking the Nice Language, which she
often does to me. I don’t generally speak it back to her.

I am annoyed with her because it wasn’t a very pleasant
mouse to look at. It was an even less pleasant mouse to be,
I think. It was trapped in a little bubble of braided
places, so it could run for yards and yards, without ever
leaving the palm of your hand. It was being chased by
little fire wasps. Every once in a while, a tiny
rabbit-goblin would appear and ram a tiny Locador-composed
needle through its paw, and then heal it with a really nasty
jagged Mutoc healing spell.

Me:“Um … Vae? What is this about?”

Vae:“Oh, nothing but a model is it, but it’s
neat and appealing. The thought’s on me that Real-Eel would
like it.”

Me:“I can’t think why. She’s not wholly
horrid.”

(I just realized that I called Vaisessasilmin wholly horrid,
which probably isn’t wise. Either she didn’t notice, or she
didn’t want to argue the point. (Yes, she is wholly horrid,
but at least she doesn’t take offense at me very easily.))

Vae:“I hope she likes it.”

Me:“I suppose we can give it to the
Sleeth.” Then something wholly horrid occurred to me.
As I get more used to Vae I should start to realize these
things earlier. “What’s it a model for?”

Vae:“Oh, it’s some Gormoror assassins from
Psent who need their punishing. It’s bone insects painted
green they are until I decide what to do with them…. Is
there a good idea with you, Sythyry?”

Oh, dearie.

[Poll #551629]