faefeasts: the midwinter gala - IC

WHO: Arda and Jonathan
WHAT: Meet and Greet
WHEN: omg a while ago – technically before the last plot but let’s handwave the fuzzy timeline
WHERE: By the ballroom
WARNINGS: Nada

( At thirty-six, it was frankly, quite embarrassing to be this completely voiceless over a woman. )

[With very heavy sarcasm.] So it's super awesome to realize that all of you are psychotic assholes. By which I mean not awesome at all. Who knew that your King making us be honest would make everyone into jerks? Wow.

WHO: Jocelyn and Jonathan.
WHAT: Awkward run in.
WHEN: Now-ish. After the Labyrinth.
WHERE: The library.
WARNINGS: Noooone.

( At that thought a smile presented itself on her face.  )

[His low voice is raspy and every now and then it cracks and drops one of his syllables. You can hear the yawn he's holding back almost escape in his pauses.]

I have had it with this Pamela. It's a terrible story. I know most consider putting your nose in a book at a party a waste of time, but you are wasting time on top of wasting time reading this bundle of tinder. Write a letter to someone who cares, Pam.

Anybody have any recommendations? Nothing too recent or I won't be able to open it. A gentleman never reveals his age, but I'll say I'm younger than Shakespeare.

[for the first time a gravelly voice decides to make its presence known, tightness in the words as if it has been far too long since she spoke last, weathered and aged, brushing off the dust of silence.]

All of you sounded like a bunch of animals in rut, I didn't know whether I should dump cold water on you or put you out of your misery with my bow. Luckily I became distracted, hm?

My, that was...

bracing.

[the wisp makes an almost squeaky noise]

[With a voice utterly laced with amusement.] I do hope you all had quite the time.

I know I certainly did.

The dungeons are quite lonely this time of day. A pity given the amount of potential these rooms hold.

I've just now noticed that, despite the fact that I've been smoking since arriving here, my cigarette case has never once become completely empty. I haven't been the one refilling it.

Somehow this has managed to be quite possibly the most disturbing thing yet about this whole unnerving situation.

[The writing is angular and strong, clear and precise. As always, there is little second guessing with him.]

There is always a measure of comfort in knowing that nothing really changes at these parties. The same faces, the same personalities, the same games, the same outcomes. Some of the details may change, but the major things never do.

At least there seems to be a new recipe for honeyed dormice in use this year. It's an improvement.

[The little, nattering wisp had swarmed around him for a good ten minutes before Jonathan realized the little messages going by. He eventually discovered that talking to it would somehow send it to some other people (though that it is transcribed and written is beyond him). Whatever sort of people they are, which frankly, has not been made clear enough, though has had much to do with change of gender]

Hello? Hello? I'm still ...trying to figure out what exactly is going on here. As well as where I am. And why I have a buzzing little light on its lonesome, instead of the four usually inherent in a bashed in head on a cartoon.

Also, I keep seeing things about bodies and...gender and...I don't know what else. I probably should lie down instead of humoring this thing. Annoying little twerp.

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