arjun (nawab) wrote in cityofsteam, @ 2013-11-25 03:54:00 |
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Sir Arjun Ismail Muhammad Ali Khan, I write to you to extend my gratitude to your dinner party on yesterday’s eve. Never had I considered the exotic foods of your land, and though I admit I was reluctant to try them, I found the flavors to excite my tongue like none other. The richness and vibrancy of each dish brought a new, astounding emotional range to my mouth. With each new flavour I found my tongue soar amongst the clouds and could hardly contain myself and show proper etiquette, restraining myself as I must, lest I consume it all in one hasty gulp. If I had, I knew, I would not have enjoyed the dishes as much as I did. The textures, I must say, were very unique. As you well know, and have complained, the food of this country can sometimes run on the mushy side---though, the rare steak is a true delight. Being a non-Christian man as yourself, you have found yourself in a religious spot and unable to try. Thus I do beg you, reconsider the roasted lamb. (Beg of you, do not try Welsh food. It is a horrible mess and made by inferior subjects.) As my mouth remained delighted from that grand evening, served and given food under the remarkable chandelier above your table (I admired it such, did you obtain it from the Palais Garnier?) as it cast appropriate light upon us. Well done, to whomever created that ambiance, as it let one focus better on the dishes at hand. Note: I have already instructed my cook to speak to yours and learn the ways of making this “non” you served, as well as that delightful chicken teeky masawla. (Am I writing this right?) However, I unfortunately have the displeasure of informing you of the following day: Never, in my forty two years upon this earth, never have I had such horrible pains. Poor Charles nearly fetched a human doctor I was in such dire straights! I did believe you had poisoned me (a feeling I still find myself attached to, you prick) as a way to get to my collection of carpets and paintings. At first, and I will be detailed for you most likely do not know this pain, I did believe my bowels would find a way to cut their way out of my abdomen. I wondered when I had swallowed the knife that they used and reflected that, potentially, you put tiny razors into those sumohsuhs. Had it ended there I would have been satisfied. Painful, but satisfied. Oh, no. I was attached to my privy for the duration of the day. It hurt less when my body expelled itself after my transition. No, I have not felt this in that long. I fear my thoughts were correct and I was loosening my intestines into the porcelain bowl and had to check frequently to make sure this was not the case. Poor Charles informed me, at some hour, that there had been complaints of the noises my body emitted, as well as the smell (and the chimney boy, come by to clean the flu, apparently said it smelled just like your house---I say, do we share the same sweeper?) and brought me a few candles and room oils to burn at my feet. It felt I was making an offering to some obscene heathen God of yours. I will thank you, though. I now fit my trousers from five years ago much better and I have finished half of the Bible (I started this at 14, mind you). It was the only reading material my man would bring me. Said I needed to be reminded of God’s word as I was saying, loudly, words that were only fit in Satan’s mouth. If you do not see me at tomorrow’s engagement downtown it is because I am unable to sit due to the fire raging from my buttox. With some hate, Yours, Sterling Mr. Pepys, I would first like to express that it is quite unnecessary to write out the full extend of my name (as, you see, I would not bother with the breadth of your own) and insist that Khan be the only name you use. This is quite wonderful to hear, as I did imagine you would be averse to the trying of new foods. I understand you to be of the stubborn, if not boastfully recalcitrant, temperament. (Keeping in mind, however, that I dare not suggest you may be uncultured. Hardly. I am certain that there is much to be said of your upbringing and the traditions all of England has given unto you and your kin.) I took great pleasure in the sharing of a cuisine that I had known best in my youth with that of yourself, finding moral blessing in the significance of elating you once more to that of friend. Though I had been incapable of finding the appropriate words then, do understand now, as I explain thus into this letter, that it had been a welcoming token of a fond relationship born anew. Here is to hoping that a quarrel may not differ us again. (A pause to mention as well that it is not of my religion to avoid the consumption of cow. I pray to one God, not many. We are of the mind that it is pig a man must never take part in the eating of--as it is a filthy animal that bathes in its own excrement. So, friend-once-more, I have indeed tried this concern of steak and must report that it is hardly anything to live up to the hype you have attempted to shower it in.) Your story of the horrors that occurred upon the leaving of my home have me quite baffled, Mr. Pepys, as never in my life (and death) have I heard of such a thing. Are you certain that you were not unwell beforehand? That it was not the matter of a poisoning or vile trickery from bad blood that caused you such pain? I understand that it is of the nature for your kin (the grand whole of Britain) to be of delicate sensibilities, stomach included, and thus wonder if it merely was a matter of fragile constitution being introduce to that which was with spice and flavour. I request that you call upon a medical consult of some sort so that they may better inspect the cause of your internal crumbling. Best of wishes for your recovery, Arjun Khan Sir Arjun (name) (name) Khan, No. Do understand the nature of my upbringing (which you reference and I believe thus understand it’s ins and outs) permits me not to do so. You delight my eyes in calling me friend. I, too, had feared another quarrel would have come between us as they do tend to do every two years or so. It is not my fault your intense nature and fiery disposition, and lack of humour, creates such a cacophony with mine. I bid you: relax, friend. The food of your youth was delicious and I do wish I could extend the same to you---though you mention no pork, and unfortunately that is a large portion of my favorite foods. I suppose my cook could find an alternative, however. Do you like quail? Tiny little bird, caught whilst hunting animal (the “original” primal sport for man. Man who have not known the chase of human flesh, I feel.) in fields. (I do not know though if you can be so pure in not eating pork, the animal that bathes in it’s own filth. Many times you and I, though not together I recall, have had whores and other humans of sort, who are not much better. The beggars do not bathe regularly, except in the rain that our fair country showers them with, or when they’re tossed haphazardly into the Thames half drunk on rotten wine. If you can permit yourself to consume them then I do believe you permit yourself pork. It, at least, does not call you a swine back when you request they use a bar of soap on their bodies.) Actually I had been quite well. Healthy as a horse, in fact. There was no cause nor reason as to why my body would react with such horrors if it were not that you attempted to poison me. As I can happily boast my stomach to be coated in (not literal) iron, your foods must be so acidic upon the delicate insides that they eat through that. I am amazed that my people have managed to survive in your land for so long if this was what they were subject to hours after eating such delicious foods. Oddly, I do find myself wanting more. If I do find myself needing medical consult then I will send his bill of service your way. After all, it’s only appropriate. Thankfully no longer indisposed to the privy, Sterling Mr. Pepys, And since when have you strictly adhered to the nature of your upbringing? Or is this a matter of personal redefining as you have now once more found yourself faithful to your God? It is not for a lack of humour, friend, that I find myself displeased with you, but that you seem to share in an over excess of impish behaviour that knows no bounds and regards itself in too high of esteem. An arrogance, if you will. (Though I say this with every ounce of respect for you, Mr. Pepys. Do remember: you are once more a friend.) I assure you that I am relaxed--finding comforts in the quiet of my own home following consumption of a rich and heavy blood wine--and require no such beseechment from you. Quail I have tried, yes, and found it to be quite delicious; though depressingly miniscule in size. Certainly not the sort of bird one might rely on for a feast. Lest, of course, you are worried for your expanding waist. (You appear to be quite mistaken, sir. I do not sully myself with the blood of vagrants. Though you find ease and pleasure in the use of whores--curiously so, one must wonder if this is an implication to your inability to acquire other means--I would never dare of permitting one into my own home. The veins from which I drink are as clean as I am myself.) Fascinating. Now, do bear with me, but when you speak of iron do you mean to suggest the metal? There is no other possible definition for this word? I ask because, you see, I understand that there is a wealth of colloquialisms that enrich this land--some of which I have not yet come to know--and surely you cannot mean the iron that is most commonly known. For, if it were of (entirely not literal) iron than you would not have gotten as sick as you had. My stomach is no such hardened metal and I suffered no ailment. Never have. You are welcome to find your own cook then. And I shall happily look it over, inspect the listing of charges and return it to you when I am certain that your doctor has made no effort to scam you of your monies. I am happy to provide this act of service to you, though I find it peculiar that a man of your age has not yet learned how to better handle these affairs. Remorsefully unimpressed, Arjun Khan Sir Arjun Frivolous Pants Khan, Never, so bear with me whilst I make waste to that upbringing and find new and creative terms for you that do not, I imagine, break the repaired bonds of our friendship. The last thing I wish to do, sir, is offend you. Well I send my apologies then over my “impish behaviour” as you so nicely put it. I must digress, I had not believed this to have caused you any displeasure, as you oft laugh along with my jokes and antics. You have also partaken in some of them, especially against the weaker beings in this world, so really. I believed you enjoyed. While quail may be depressingly small in size, I do believe it represents some persons quite well: grand flavours in tiny packages! tied with twine and rosemary stuffed up inside, though that part is less a description of a persons (I would delight to meet the odd one who enjoys rosemary branches up their arse) and more about a fine meal. (Remind me, next time, to not share one of my Friday meals with you. You may need to reflect upon your ideals now and rethink.) Yes, the metal. I have eaten many a disgusting meal, especially foods from our Northern brethrens (heathens) and their haggis. If you are not familiar with this: I do say avoid it. Terrible food. The Scots do make wonderful liquids, however. No, no, my iron stomach can handle most foods, and has, but the food of your people has ravaged it. I fear ingesting anything further to only feel it remove it self wholly from my underside. It as if I am exhaling fire---and not from my mouth! Maybe this is the truth of your people and their fire breathing skills: someone takes a mighty spoon full of your foods and rams up it their rear to exit their northern mouths in bright yellow flames. Hoping this letter finds you well, Sterling Mr. Pepys, I will cut this matter short: Do not fashion disrespectful names for me. It is unappreciated. No. I shall never share a meal with you that I have not found myself or had prepared within the safety of my own personal kitchen. You are foolish to believe that I may trust you to not serve something that is not of poor standard or ill prepared. You, Mr. Pepys, have a loose sense of what is acceptable quality and, by this, you permit yourself to lower expectations. I, however, do not partake in this. Careful of what you say in regards to my persons. Perhaps it is a matter of your kin (pale and fragile as they are) that leaves them incapable of handling any more spice than pepper. I have set fire to the miniature rug you gifted me, Arjun Khan Sir Khan, Permit me, then, to jump to the chase as well and ignore your arrogant ways in regards to my meals and point out a blaring fact: That was from the end years of the Timurid dynasty. It was, at minimum, at least three hundred years old and part of the last surviving relics of that empire. I should expect you know your history and understand the importance of this dynasty (if not, find a scholar and ask them about the Mughal Empire) and you have burned it out of anger. You, sir, are a fool with no respect for history. Consider our business arrangement fired, Sterling Mr. Pepys, I believe none of what you express, as you are an elaborate twister of tales and make frequent use of your words. If it were as priceless as you insist it were, you would not have given it to me to place upon the floor of my facilities. Though if you wish to take this act as an excuse to (once more) sever ties between us, then so be it. You are a foolish child that has not yet learned his manners and I will not waste any effort in trying to teach them to you. Regards, Arjun Khan Monsieur Khan Ce tapis a été donné à vous comme une œuvre d'art, pas destiné à être utilisé ou piétiné par les pieds sales. Non, le but de celui-ci était pour vous accrocher dans votre chambre à coucher où une naire œil ni la lumière du soleil pourrait l'endommager. Au lieu de cela vous avez détruit dans un accès de rage. Et ils disent que vos gens sont civilisés. Si je n'avais pas déjà comprends pourquoi mon peuple entra dans la terre de jungle de votre pays avant, je le fais maintenant. Vous avez besoin d'une bastonnade. Pour toutes vos années sages rapportés vous êtes plutôt immature dans la façon dont vous gérez petits arguments. Par exemple: au lieu d'être enragé et mettre le feu à toute votre correspondance avec moi, j'ai plutôt embauché une personne qui est habile dans les arts sombres. Ils m'assurent que vous tournerez souffrir la même douleur intestinale que j'ai déjà. Ils nous ont proposé de vous donner une potion qui obligerait votre virilité pour vous laisser par voie de dépérissement comme un vieux champignon mais j'ai dit non. J'ai beaucoup trop de respect pour vous pour vous faire souffrir un tel assaut terrible, et en plus, j'ai entendu dire que c'était tout un spectacle par les garçons du club. En plaisantant, Sterling مسٹر سٹرلنگ ، آپ کو اب کوئی آپ کے لئے مادری زبان میں مطابقت کرنے کے لئے منتخب کیا ہے کے طور پر، میں نے بھی اس کے ساتھ ساتھ مواصلات کا ایک اور انداز کا استعمال کرنے کا فیصلہ کیا ہے. یہ ایک منصفانہ تجارت کو کال کریں. اگرچہ ، آپ کے لئے ایک افسوس کی بات ہے ، میں آپ کی فرانسیسی قسم کی معمولی ہدایات کو سمجھنے کی صلاحیت رکھتے ہوں، جبکہ تم یہ کیا زبان ہے ( شروع کے لئے) یا کس طرح بھی اسے پڑھنے کے بارے میں جانے کے لئے معلوم کرنے کا امکان نہیں ہیں. شرم کی بات ہے . یہ آپ کے چھوٹے قالین کی اپنی تباہی کی طرف سے پریشان ہیں کہ کچھ عجیب انداز میں مجھ سے راضی اگرچہ ، میں ایمانداری مجھے یہ غصے سے باہر کیا نہیں کیا گیا تھا اس کا اظہار کرنے کا مطالبہ ہے کہ تلاش. چھوٹی چیز کو تباہ کر دیا گیا تھا ، آوارا پاؤں اس نازک موضوعات سے زائد سے تجاوز کر اور کام کے ٹھیک فنکارانہ صلاحیتوں کو برباد کر . تو (اگر آپ کو ضائع کرنے کے بارے میں میری پسندیدہ طریقہ ہے معلوم ہے کے طور پر) میں نے اس کے اس مسئلے کو حل کرنے کے لئے کوئی طریقہ کار دستیاب ہو گی کہ واضح ہو گیا تھا جب یہ آگ لگا تھا. اور تم نے میری توہین کی تھی ؟ یہ میں آپ کی جلد کے نیچے حاصل کرنے کا ایک ذریعہ میں اس حادثاتی سانحہ دیا ہے ہو سکتا ہے جس میں خوشی سے اچھا موقع ثابت ہوا. اب بچہ کون ہے؟ یہ خود کے حوالے سے مردوں میں سے کسی طرح کے کلب کا ذکر ہمت کبھی ، بھی ، بہت اچھا تم کرتے ہو کر سکتے ہیں. ایک بار پھر ایسا کرتے ہیں اور میں آپ کو مکمل طور پر اپنے اعمال افسوس کہ اس پر نظر آئے گا. تم اپنے آپ کو ہونا خواب کے طور پر آپ کے طور پر دلچسپ نہیں ہیں ، ارجن خان Sir Khan, I beg of you: what in Hell’s fire was that? This letter comes to you at some delayed point because of that specific one you sent. It took me some time to track down a person of learning who could decipher such calligraphy. Though my eye recognized it as being somewhere where the sun shines too brightly upon fine pale sands, I could not understand it. Rest assured, the translator shall not mutter a word to nary a soul. Unfortunately the college has now lost themselves a professor of words. Should I ever tell anyone of your fanciful nights in full attire then I would be putting myself out there. While (unlike you) I do not mind these rumors (I find them hilarious, at best) I wish to not put you in harm’s way. Please do note: that was a replica rug. I have the original in my chambers, where no light may touch it, but maybe one day your eye can alight upon it and once again absorb it’s beauty. Fondly fondling, Sterling Mr. Pepys, It is of no matter. The language in which I had written is not one of which you would actively seek to know or understand on your own, it bears resemblance to Arabic and Persian though offers no more specific importance through which might find interest. Strange how you will learn the dialects of societies long since passed but never bother to acquaint yourself with the native tongues of those peoples whose homes you have invaded. One might consider this a futile effort, as you are not capable of conversing with the nonexistent, but yet you greatly prefer to respectfully and tragically wear their words as your own, adorn yourselves in their culture. I am not certain as to what this game is, though it appears to have no gain for any party. Though, curious, that you had taken the great effort to find yourself a man of knowing that might have been able to translate my words for you. Were you truly that curious to know what had been said? Were you worried that I might have insulted you beyond repair? Or was it, simply, about knowing what was seemingly incapable of being known? I trust you found him better accommodations, a reward for his service to you. You have already said far too much and I refuse to respond to any such statements regarding my personal life and what may occur within its boundaries. That is all. Neither will I make visit to your chambers. Do try to keep your hands above the table, Arjun Khan Honorable Sir Khan, I meerly sought him out to verify whether or not you had intended to insult my persons. As a highly honorable person (as you know) I must make sure one does not feel ill towards me. And as you oft tend to have ill feelings towards me, depending on what suits your fancy, I was curious. Pleased to see though you did not elect to slander me in such a beautiful language, though you had the choice. I do beg you remember: I have not invaded any country in particular save for the countryside of this grand land. Invading your land is left up to my warfaring brethren, even if I do not particularly support their pillaging ways. I did find him better accommodations! Never have I been so full. Nor have I found such a wonderful substance to take to my inks so well. Makes one wonder: do the words of man flow through our blood truly, thus thickening it (literally) with culture or am I simply imagining it? How unfortunate. I do think you would find most interesting the collection of intimate artwork I have hung there. Should you ever request to view it, I would happily let you in---and stand outside, to give you berth and fear not some atrocious act of bodily thievery. My hands forever below the table, Sterling Mr. Pepys, I do not believe that I am capable of continuing correspondence with you until you have found your respectful sensibilities and are able to appropriately keep your hands above the table. (So disgusted was I by the very thought of what horrors your letter had been grasped in before arriving to my location that I scrubbed my hands until they bled. They have healed quite nicely--thank you, concern not needed--though I am insistent that no such disrespect occurs any further. You are a man quite matured. Is it thirty or forty years now? Nevertheless, it is several too many for you to attempt any such immature antics.) Regretfully, Arjun Khan Mr Khan, Any lower thoughts of me and I may as well not exist. How dare you assume I have done something so unbecoming of a man of my stature. Disgraceful. You, sir, seek to tarnish my good name. You, I will remind you, speculated the location of my hands. I have alluded in no ways that this was my taking. O, alas, I thought you to jest. If this is where your mind flees to, sire, I suggest mayhaps you scrub your mind as well. Disgraced, Sterling Mr. Pepys, You express an emotion I do not believe you are capable of. Furthermore, my assumptions are derived from nothing more than true and unadulterated fact. I know the nature of your ways, I know the impish qualities of your mind and how you find humour in these matters, by such I believe it fair to think ill of your hand placement. Perhaps if you were to improve the quality of your character one would not so immediately think these things of you. Dispassionately, Arjun Khan Mr Khan, Pray tell: what hint have I given you to think this of me? Secondly, do you think of my hands in this predicament often? Curiously yours, Sterling Mr. Pepys, Enough. Never in my life. Now are you quite finished? Considering the tragedy of ink wasted on parchment, Arjun Khan Mr Khan, Then please accept my apologies for wasting ink and implying such naughty images on to your fair delicate brain. I have sent along a printing of a Japanese woodblock, acquired recently through trades (of legal nature). "Fox Lady Kuzunoha Leaving Her Child." The artist is relatively unknown here and an outcast in his own land. I do believe this Kuzunoha woman is a folklore staple. It was the tamest peace offering I could find and one, I feel, you would enjoy as it is neither form mine nor your cultural background. As it is an original, I bid you keep it safe or return it should you wish to not keep such a priceless woodcut. Humbly so, Sterling Mr. Pepys, Though you have clearly disregarded that I would have no place in my home for this manner of decour (it is not of the formatted theme that I have manipulated each item to adhere to) and wonder if you have done this on purpose in another act of annoyance, I must admit that I am quite impressed with the piece gifted me and shall find a location for it to rest. I’ve already asked one of my maids to search the home for thus. She has a good eye, trust, she will soon inform of where it might best be displayed so that it may be enjoyed to its fullest potential. Not in the general guest area, of course, as I cannot promise its safety with what sorts have crossed into that particular threshold. Attached are several recipes as written out by my cook for the use of your own. I had asked him to take care to note that you are of weak stomach and to, perhaps, see if the spices could be subdued as to not horrifically tear you to pieces as you have described. We had quite the laugh over this, but he has promised that these variations ought to be easier on your delicate digestion. He also suggests that you make use of the dairies available to you, as they are Allah’s creation to soothe man’s pains for the better spices of my homeland. Gratefully, Arjun Khan Sir Khan, Nay, sir, it was not in annoyance nor intentional to disturb the flow of what you already have. Instead it was given as a gift purely to please your fine tastes and expose you to a new style. Personally, I have found this style, and most to come out of the Eastern hemisphere (including the lands of one person particular) to be enchanting and enriching. Unlike our more refined artworks of Angels and Christ and war, it is not nearly as colourful. (Though I do hear France has been making quite an impression on the art world as of late.) I do thank you for these! My delicate sensitivities will thank you muchly when I consume them and have no raining Hellfire from my netherside. I shall have my cook start on these post haste, lest my tongue loses its flavor for such fine foods. Though I am displeased you shared such private natures with a man of his stature I shall forgive you both on different accounts, neither of which I find suitable to mention. However, I do find myself wondering; what, possibly, would one taste like should they ingest such spices as these? Curiouser and curiouser, Sterling Mr. Pepys, I do believe it stands to bear some significant truth to suggest that art is often of substantial value in both aesthetics and creation when it hails from a land that is not confined to the borders of your Great Britain. Of course, you must already be aware of this factual detail with your line of work, with how often you must survey the talents of others to determine the worth of painted, woven and manipulated materials. He is a good man, a respectable cook whose family was long ago transported from a village bordering that of my origins, one with a shared favouring for speaking a language I hold dear. So, it is true, I have shared many thoughts with him. It is camaraderie amongst the foreign outcasts, Mr. Pepys, something I do not believe you will ever find reason to know better for yourself. You will forgive us because you have no other option but to, as we will not desist in our conversation and it will only be you that is upset by this. The answer to this question is entirely dependant on how it is you intend to taste the person; two of which could be answered in a simple: it makes no difference, and another being ignored in its entirety. Perhaps it is a blessing that you are no cat? In possible facetiousness, Arjun Khan My dearest Arjun, Of course it is. Why, this land is known only for its droll war pieces and portraits, as well as it’s landscapes and hunting scenes. Not to mention the hundreds upon thousands of portraits done of horses. I have not seen our art style change much in the time I’ve been here yet I’ve seen the outside world make such marvelous advances! Ah, if only I could leave this humdrum isle for such rich and vibrant lands as which you hail from. My, I would give someone else’s left foot to simply travel to Europe. (Not to mention scare some white hairs into my father, whom I have recently discovered is on permanent holiday in Italy---how unfair!) Ah, yes, of course. You found kinship in him. I do not fault you here. We all seek those whom we can become close to, those of a similar feather. It is, I believe, human nature. It is also the nature of a woman to gossip. I imply nothing, just simply share common Western fact. Is that so? You see, I seem to think the spices, when tasted by a foreign tongue such as mine, would delight upon it, would, well. Taste the change. I have found a difference in the bodies of those who partake heavily in different drinks, so much so that I suspect spices would be no different. If a housewife, heavy in her teas, can taste of Earl Grey, then would not a man consuming your familial cuisine taste of that? Promising not to eat your chef, Sterling Mr. Pepys, You say that you wish to travel and yet you have not made any effort to so. I believe you simply find yourself to the mere idea of what it may be to wander into lands that are not familiar to you, but perhaps find yourself hesitant or afraid of pursuing thus in actuality. Which, in fair honesty, may be for the best. My people only tolerate yours by necessity, though we are hardly welcoming to your intrusions. Of course, I cannot say for certain whether or not Italy would be keen to your visit, that is a country you would have to venture into blindly. The nature of women, yes. Which is how, forgive me, I have often forgotten that you, sir, are of masculinity. I must remind myself frequently: Mister Pepys. I give you no invitation to test this for yourself. Rather I staunchly suggest that you reconsider, make no effort to taste flesh or partake in sanguination to find answers to your questions. Those of my land need no more meddling from your sort or our sort. I would have your head if you did, Arjun Khan Sir Khan, Permit me to remind you of our delicate instabilities in terms of our immortality. Immortality that would be snatched from us swiftly should we expose ourselves to that bright ball in the sky. And as I do recall from traveling in my youth that oft times you are exposed to sunlight, through carriages and trains, and while I know night travel is possible, I hesitate to risk it. How easily it would be for someone to vanquish us. No, my hesitation with traveling is due simply to the cause of not wishing to die. Were it any other way then I would happily see the world. Italy seems safe enough and I believe I can get there swiftly through covered carriage and train, possibly by ship. Train seems much more stable these days. Ah, well, yes I am of a masculine nature, though the whispers of silly women and men in dark clubs seem to say otherwise. No, Arjun, I do not gossip like the womenfolk do. Should you need proof, however, of my masculinity then please, by all means, come by. One day I do plan on visiting the rich lands you hail from and those around it. Maybe instead I should try your flesh? See if it is something I wish to pursue. You may have a head but which one? Sterling Mr. Pepys, Perhaps it is but a tragedy of the less fortunate to have not known the privilege of covered travel regardless of where, when or by what means you are moved. In my youth it had been considered outright disrespect to look upon those greater than you without their explicit permission, so my family and myself were never left to the unwelcoming nature of opened windows. If you truly wished to travel you’d have found some means by which to transport yourself from here to there safely and without hassle. Do not share excuses in the hopes that they will cover the truth of your fears. I need no proof and you shall never taste any part of me. You, sir, are once more overstepping your bounds and making an absolute mockery of your upbringing in discussing these topics. Are you a fool? Are you incapable of remembering and adhering to instructions given to you by your betters? I believe we’ve already discussed that you not bring up any point of these implied matters ever again, and yet here it is in writing once more. Do not give me reason to cease business with you, Arjun Khan Arjun, Please find attached with this a small diary in which you will find the stories of my “betters” as you so kindly referred. I find that, my lovely youthful façade lets me bypass these social requirements of etiquette and humility, as well as this severe chastity bestowed upon us by our wonderful Queen and her Minions. Is that so? You burden me, then, with a thousand sorrows. I have oft fancied what your chocolate spiced skin would taste. Would it be that of cinnamon or paprika? Would it bear more of a bidding taste to sweetness or spicey? While you you do come across as an austere spiced roast, I believe you to be as wild and flavorful as a bottle of le Bleue (of which I have and would willingly share) or another liqueur. I have set my cook upon the tast of cooking your recipes now. My next correspondence shall deliver whether or not they were adequate in replication. Sincerely, Sterling Pepys Mr. Pepys, The diary will return to you directly, unread and unwanted. You play into the youth of your death but forget that so many of us know better, we know that you are not as young as you pretend to be. I am not fooled by your face. I expect better of you, act the age you are, do not waste my time with wanton immaturity. Wallow away in your tears then, as I will not provide you with any such opportunity to dive into your perversions. And do not compare me to spices, chocolate or any manner of alcohol--I am a man, not a dish for you to make spectacle of. You insult and disrespect me with these words. It will be no more than adequate, I assure you. Vexed, Arjun Khan Sir Khan, I am sending it back. I do suggest you read it. Though it is not of your preference (that better of mine was a true Cassanova with the women) it does put light on a topic you wish not touched. There is no harm in reading such language. My dearest, dearest Arjun. When you elect to come out of your staunch shell of rigid morality I will simply applaud you. Though I fail to see why you are so closed with me; do you not, on various occasions, prance about in an outfit of which nature you have instructed me to explicitly not mention? It was somewhat adequate though your cook is obviously much better. Do pay him my compliments and should he seek employment away from you then he would have a spot in my kitchen promptly. Do not be vexed. Your face is far too defined for such an ugly look, Sterling Mr. Pepys, Once more it is being returned to you. I remain to have no interest in reading what is in this diary and suggest that you not waste your efforts in sending it to me any further--my opinion of it is final. What I do in my private hours is not for discussion here. He is not likely to leave my service as he does not speak English and would have not even the slightest clue as to what it’d be you’d ask of him. Though I find it amusing that you’d think he would ever wish to join your staff. Laughable, really. Endearing in some peculiar manner. I wear my frustrations well, Arjun Khan Mr Khan, I see. You sadden me, sir, as I wished to share such a part of my historical values with someone as finely educated as yourself. Of course it is not. I apologise for having broached the subject again. Though I must say, and I shall: your delicate bone structure allows for such a change so nicely that I, often, wonder if you are who you say you are due to your passing as a member of the female society so well. It is as if you were born to bend the lines so easily. (Personally, however, I find you much more fetching in a well tailored suit and vest. Leave the petticoats to those who need them.) I do not disagree with you, Sterling Mr. Pepys, I do not trust that which you send to me in praise. Not when such praise is in the company of perverse statements. Colour me intrigued, though I am no fool. I see that you are well employing the art of flattery, that much is clear as day; it, however, is your reason as to why that has me stumped. What are you hoping to gain out of this? I have already expressed that I do not wish to read your familial diary, neither will my cook leave to serve you. What game are you playing at? Be direct, write it clearly and concisely. Sincerely, Arjun Khan Sir Khan, Do you ever wonder what the future will hold? what developments our scientists and leaders shall make, what wonders await us? Will there be tolerance for our kind or will we be forced into the shadows once more, to live as slime? My siblings are old, now. We do not speak often except in rare circumstances. They have all produced children, who vie for family monies like a horse at the gate. I wish for winter and snow, and to open my curtains and walk in the sun again, without the aid of covering or fear of burning. Honestly, Sterling Mr. Pepys, I believe I will end our conversation here. Perhaps you ought to look into acquiring yourself a confidant, someone that might not find annoyance or discomfort in hearing your honesty and could offer you answers (or vapid agreements, you choosing) in response. Though, be aware, honesty is not a trait carried in high regard. Do not expect many to be so willing to hear your words and not later use it against you. Regards, Arjun Khan |