asgardeventide | fifth whip | backdated day 497 | text.

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fifth whip | backdated day 497 | text.

I don't suppose I'm the first to complain about the chafing new rules. A curfew? Don't be silly, I haven't had one of those since I was an adolescent.
The rationing is also worrying; is there not enough food to go about? Is it a side effect of the new monitoring of the city gates? Hmm. I wonder.

That said; things always do become a bit more interesting under prohibitions. Look at the era of speakeasies and smuggling in America, for example. While I'm sure none of us god-heeding citizens would dare do such a thing...

My, my, that would be an adventure.

As an aside, I've come into possession of several tiger rugs formerly belonging to Mr. Moran, who has been returned to his unquestionably odd home. Should anyone care to take at least one of the dreadfully tasteless things off my hands, I'd be glad to surrender them to a more .. appreciative home.

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Perhaps it is an effect of people watching more closely than they would have otherwise. Or perhaps it's simply a reaction to uncertainty.

Whatever happened to keep on keeping on?

Who can say?

I'm afraid my reaction to uncertainty is NOT to shove my head in the sand. All this curfew business is likely creating more panic.

It is an inconvenience, yes.

More than an inconvenience. Nearly intolerable.

( she's only half serious. )

I wouldn't have expected it to be so bad as that.

I resent being told what to do.

A common complaint, or so one hears.

And yet they insist on continuing to order us around.

It does tend to happen, I've found. But perhaps it's best to not be so predictable. To simply... fade away.

I did try that once. Got a bit bored, frankly.

Is that so? What came next, then?

I had to come back. There was some work left unfinished.

I do hope it was worth the return.

Remains to be seen, really.

Not for too much longer, I should hope.

No. Sooner or later, it will come to an end.

Many things do, in the end. Otherwise they'd be called something else.

Clever of you. Are you often this glib?

When I wish to be.

I imagine that must be often, then.

Often enough, I find.

Doesn't it become tiring?

If it had I wouldn't be doing it.

text.

herrin - 2014-10-13 03:14 (UTC) - Expand

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