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The moment draws nigh. Laertes will soon speak to Aornis in the library. All is in readiness--Asmodean long since in place, invisibly veiled in saidin; SecUnit's drone watching from its customary vantage.
In the game room, SecUnit, Claudius, Sagramore, and Nightingale gather around the grainy CRT television, watching the drama unfold ...
[This post is for live reactions from the war room! Participation in this thread is totally optional.]
In the game room, SecUnit, Claudius, Sagramore, and Nightingale gather around the grainy CRT television, watching the drama unfold ...
[This post is for live reactions from the war room! Participation in this thread is totally optional.]
[Closed Post: Stairs and Gates]
Feb. 20th, 2024 01:59 pmLaertes has at last managed to finish building the set of stairs and the adjustable gates for Szarka. The gates were complex, requiring him to measure and drill precisely so that the locking mechanism could hold them steady in the doorframe. The stairs, on the other hand, were simple, and he's taken the time to sand them smooth so that Szarka won't get splinters in her paws.
Now, if only she wanted to climb them.
He pats both knees again. "Up, Szarike, up!" She glances at the stairs, full of doubt and misgivings, then turns her gaze up at Laertes atop the bed and whines. Then, with a great leap and a scramble, she heaves herself onto the bed and ignores the stairs completely.
Now, if only she wanted to climb them.
He pats both knees again. "Up, Szarike, up!" She glances at the stairs, full of doubt and misgivings, then turns her gaze up at Laertes atop the bed and whines. Then, with a great leap and a scramble, she heaves herself onto the bed and ignores the stairs completely.
[Closed Post: Caught]
Feb. 6th, 2024 11:23 amLaertes is in love. He's in love, and he's carrying his whole heart tucked into his coat, held close against his chest. The pup wriggles and squirms and makes little noises that to Laertes's ears are more curious and interested than distressed. "Soon, pet," says Laertes softly as he undoes the lock on the door to his and Sagramore's rooms. Then, louder: "Sagramore! I've brought a friend for thee!"
And he pulls the tiny puppy out of his coat. It blinks ice-blue eyes at Sagramore, then gives an amiable bark.
And he pulls the tiny puppy out of his coat. It blinks ice-blue eyes at Sagramore, then gives an amiable bark.
[Closed Post: A Pit of Clay]
Dec. 4th, 2023 12:47 pmLaertes has settled on building a cross-draft kiln--but for that, he'll need to fire bricks, and to make bricks, of course, he'll need clay. He's finished sifting the clay he'd dug from the shore of the lake, and now all that remains is to get it into a state that will bear shaping and firing. The tool room had a couple of bags of sand and a smaller sack of bauxite alumina ready for use; those will help the kiln bricks to withstand the great heat of a long firing.
It's a grey day, and the scent of clay is rich in Laertes's nostrils. Smells always get stronger right before he has a migraine, and a part of him wants to call off this whole project and hide in bed to wait out the impending ache--but he isn't hurting yet; his vision isn't starting to shimmer yet. The wind off the lake is bracing, redolent with the rich, spice-and-rot scent of fallen leaves.
There's time enough to pull off his boots and socks, roll up his jeans, and dig in.
It's a grey day, and the scent of clay is rich in Laertes's nostrils. Smells always get stronger right before he has a migraine, and a part of him wants to call off this whole project and hide in bed to wait out the impending ache--but he isn't hurting yet; his vision isn't starting to shimmer yet. The wind off the lake is bracing, redolent with the rich, spice-and-rot scent of fallen leaves.
There's time enough to pull off his boots and socks, roll up his jeans, and dig in.
Laertes knows that he should be working on some useful thing--processing the clay earth he'd dug up from the water's edge, or learning a new recipe, or drilling with a blade. But today, he can't muster up the slightest will to do any of them, and so he sits curled up in the corner of a couch with some torrid romance novel open to a place a third of the way through.
Even in moments of passion, the lovers call each other you, as though in their love they are conscious of the estates and properties and souls attendant upon one another. Unnatural though it feels, Laertes commits the convention to memory. It's only the logical evolution of the language, when his little fist of a Paris becomes Enjolras's sprawling city; cities breed strangers, and when one meets more strangers than friends, one must learn to hold others at a distance.
He does not want to hold others at a distance. He does not know how to hold them close without wounding them.
[Mostly looking for Truthsgiving fallout here, but anyone who wants to come flop on Laertes's couch to talk through Truthsgiving fallout is welcome.]
Even in moments of passion, the lovers call each other you, as though in their love they are conscious of the estates and properties and souls attendant upon one another. Unnatural though it feels, Laertes commits the convention to memory. It's only the logical evolution of the language, when his little fist of a Paris becomes Enjolras's sprawling city; cities breed strangers, and when one meets more strangers than friends, one must learn to hold others at a distance.
He does not want to hold others at a distance. He does not know how to hold them close without wounding them.
[Mostly looking for Truthsgiving fallout here, but anyone who wants to come flop on Laertes's couch to talk through Truthsgiving fallout is welcome.]
[Open Post: Maiden Voyage]
Nov. 8th, 2023 03:55 pmIt's taken Laertes a little over a month, but at long last, his boat is ready for launch. About twenty feet from stem to stern, she has a mast with a single sail and a set of painstakingly carved oars for windless days. She's been sealed with pitch and painted a deep blue-green, with a spray of painted pink flowers decorating the timbers to either side of her keel. Along the gunwale, in the same pink edged with black, Laertes has painted her name: Rose of May.
Now he stands beside the posts of his dry dock, contemplating a problem that he had not adequately anticipated: how to get her into the water.
Now he stands beside the posts of his dry dock, contemplating a problem that he had not adequately anticipated: how to get her into the water.
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[Closed Post: Baklava]
Oct. 28th, 2023 11:00 amLaertes delights in the many spices of the Mansion's kitchens--he lost several hours one evening just opening every bottle and smelling it, acquainting himself with the differences between cardamom and allspice, sage and bay. Today, he is intent upon celebrating those spices with a baklava recipe he's found, and so he's roped Sagramore into serving as his sous-chef. While Laertes prepares the dough to laminate, he sets Sagramore to chopping nuts up finely. "This recipe saith walnuts," he says, "but another hath pistachios, and a third one walnuts and almonds mixed."
[Closed Post: A Hot Bath]
Oct. 15th, 2023 05:09 pmIt's close to noon by the time Laertes actually manages to get out of bed and guide Sagramore down to the sumptuous bath that he'd discovered with Damien. Locking the door, Laertes starts running hot water in the tub and sorting through the array of soaps and hair tonics. He chooses light, clean scents--he and his sister are both prone to terrible headaches when the weather turns, and at those times, any strong smell is enough to make him retch. He tips a bottle of crystals unhelpfully labeled Summer Rain into the hot water, and is gratified to see bubbles start roiling on the surface of the water as a green, fresh aroma rises with the steam. At last, after testing the water to make sure it isn't hot enough to scald, he finishes undressing and sees whether Sagramore wants a hand.