It's funny how unpredictably nostalgia can hit you. I don't have much to be nostalgic for - I had a wretched existence as a searingly attractive-yet-abused indentured servant back home in the dripping ossuary caverns of the Ninth - and yet the people! A tiny blot of people. Not many
people, mind, but a few - they're worth missing. Sex Pal would have just loved
this place. He's a scholarly type - into dusty things of Great Historical Import - whatever that is. He'd absolutely see all the shit the academics have done here and just yeet himself into the center of it. (Incidentally, Sex Pal is not a sex pal; his name is Palemedes Sextus and he is a beautiful soul trapped within an amber of bitchiness, and he deserves the nickname. I don't swing that way because have you seen
boobs, but if you put a knife to my throat and I had to chose, I'd go with Fandral here at Vallo anyhow. He reminds me of a palomino. Anyway, Sex Pal is just a name he hates and pretends not to notice when I use it. Sex Pal thinks I'll stop using it if he doesn't give me a reaction. I am going to use it until the universe ends.)
Anywho, rather than sit about and mope and wonder how everyone back home is - dead and/or smug, I'd wager - I'm going to try something new - yoga! It sounds awful. I can't wait to bend myself into a plate of spaghetti and wonder what the hell past!Gideon was thinking. Anyone have any experience? Can I do it raging
? [ Filtered to Serefin ]
I've been patient, I've been sweet-tempered and just, I haven't grabbed you by the ankles and shaken you, so now I must ask: why
have you been moping about looking like some aggressively-haunted Victorian doll? I didn't want to be a bother but I simply can't be mature any longer.