sythyry: (sythyry-doomed)
[personal profile] sythyry

Mirrored from Sythyry.

“Why on wood are you wearing that … that … what is it even called?” asked Lithia. The garment in question covered most of Invincible Fire Demon’s body — notably leaving his buttocks prominently exposed and even uplifed. In many ways it resembled the traditional garments worn (mostly in fantasy) by a particularly degraded form of slave, or, (mostly in reality), by someone taking that role for the purpose of amusement. (Not that I know anything about that.) In other ways it resembled a rag-basket, and a clown’s outfit, and a straitjacket, and a penitant’s cloak.

“Grinwipey made me wear it,” said Invincible Fire Demon. “He said he’d beat me up if he heard I wasn’t.”

Lithia blinked. “Wait, he was beating you up already?”

“No. I think my left tibula is broken,” said Invincible Fire Demon, confusingly, holding out his arm.

“The word is ‘tibia’ or maybe ‘fibula’, and those are legbones anyhow,” said Lithia, risking revealing that she is half Rassimel. “And if he didn’t beat you up, how is it broken?”

“I don’t know anatomy! All I know is my arm hurts a terrible lot over here where Grinwipey made me break it!”

Lithia tugged at his sleeve. “This needs to come up. I’m going to cut the seams. If Grinwipey complains he can sew it up again himself. What happened?” She busied herself with a small sharp shell-bladed knife, and then with wood splints and cloth.

“Grinwipey came into my room all furious, and demanded I wear this. He started waving his clubs around and pounding them on my furniture. Then he shoved me into the bathroom and slammed the door and said he’d wait outside until I came out wearing it. He didn’t explain why. I tried to run away, but I tripped and smashed into an armoire and hurt my arm. ”

Lithia said, “He probably didn’t like the love poetry you were writing for him.”

“What? I didn’t write any love poetry for him!” said Invincible Fire Demon.

“No? What are all those posters around the ship?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t have anything to do with them! Except get beaten up for them!”

“Really? You aren’t lusting after Grinwipey?”

Invincible Fire Demon shook his head. “No! Not me! Someone else!”

Lithia sighed. “Who?”

“Jyondre!” said Invincible Fire Demon. “Not even a traff crush!” Lithia relaxed a bit; she had been afraid it was her. “And I’m not writing love poetry to him either. I don’t want his wife to be upset with me. Somehow I got Grinwipey upset with me instead!”

“Well, yes, Jyondre’s quite highly unavailable,” said Lithia. “But I think your arm might be broken.”

“It is broken!” wailed Invincible Fire Demon.

“Let’s go get Sythyry. Maybe zie can fix it, and even talk some sense into Grinwipey.”

They did. It wasn’t. I could. I couldn’t.

Date: 2011-06-06 09:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] terrycloth.livejournal.com
Eh, I'd expect the perpetrator to get a stern talking to unless they were screaming at customers.

Or, if the boss was Sythyry, a halfheartedly mysterious attempt to sound threatening that really just confuses everyone.

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