#kc_necropolis

"I heard of a couple, not AS bad."

"That is a point. We call Unseelie Trolls 'Ogres' but they are not, compared to a Thallain Ogre. Tremendously stupid, irredeemably dull, but immensely strong -and- possessed of an ability to determine the Seelie and Unseelie amongst a crowd."

"Goblins are... well, goblins. best of a bad lot, and dumb enough t'convince to test the really dangerous dreck"

"Which, needless to say, is an issue."

"Yeah? Cantrip?"

Mise en place done, he begins to cook.

"Inborn, like Gwyds an' lying"

"Huh. If they don't care, hate everybody the same, what good's that do them?"

"Guess they eat the Seelie first."

A hard grin* "More tender."

He chuckles.

"That's me. Tender an'sweet. I'm a damn kugel."

He moves deftly around the kitchen, and eventually closes the oven door. "There. Not long now." He strips off the apron and takes a long drink of his tea.

He goes over and takes the brownie from the table, with a quiet grin. "You found this at Firnost, you say? I wonder who else found them..." Musing.

"Can ask around, if you want." A quick grin*

"I'd say every one of them flighty powderpuffs, but I think most of them are already unseelie"

"Oh, oh, codeine! bourbon!" A dramatic toss of her head, the back of her hand on her forehead. "Hold me, Duckling!"

He tsks. "Pity to waste such powerful dust on them, but..." Then Janet's impression causes him to burst out laughing.

He rasps a harsh laugh* "Ma, I ever tell you about the drinking game me and Ghost thought up?"

"Nope! Spill."

"Get three, four people...had a crowd up top of the stairs, once....you each pick three words you think they're going to say. Think Thirteen won the last time. Duckling was one of the words, by the way....and every time it comes up, whoever's word it was, picks somebody, and that somebody has to take a shot."

"Never drinking absinthe again, by the way."

"Ooo... " He sympathy-winces.

"Could you even walk, at the end of that?"

"It makes their conversations more interesting." A hard grin*

"See, good part was, it was the top of the stairs. Could still crawl to your room at the end."

"Variation, everybody but whose word it was takes the shot. Game ends a lot quicker that way."

"A mercy you didn't fall -down- the stairs." Sip. "On the other hand, I don't suppose you would have broken anything."

A snort. "Okay, gotta try that. So long as I don't get a dui for a rascal..."

"Yeah, no fair if you play. Think your liver hired assistants."

"HA!"

He gets up to refill Emerson's iced tea, grinning a twisted grin at the nocker and shrugging. If she needs a refill, he tops her off, and puts the pitcher away* "I better go install that patch while you aren't on your computer. Going to take a half hour to download it all."

"You both excuse me?"

"Thank you." He takes the refill with a murmur.

He nods, and shuts the refrigerator door. He goes to put his jacket away, and brings back Janet's slippers on his way through the kitchen again, dropping them on the floor by her chair. He then continues on towards the bedrooms*

His eye twinkles as he watches this, and a smile plays across his face. He waits till he is alone with Janet.

"Sure, spiderling. You're a good boychick. Take care of your Ma."

She settles to unlace her boots and change over to slippers.

*Any answer goes unheard; he's already past and headed off into the rooms, He shuts the door behind him Gone to save her virtual life from ransomware*

He speaks softly, but not at a whisper. "Fontainbleu is no longer a functioning Barony."

She raises an eyebrow. "What did you do?"

He picks up the bag with the brownie in it, and lets it wave there a moment, with a pleased smile.... ok, a smug smirk.

"That alone shouldn't have.... not functioning?"

He chuckles. "All who ate them became Unseelie. All who were Unseelie were high, as well. The satyrs gave the Gift. The place was a shambles, hardly one stone left on another. The horsemistress was found with two of her grooms, and possibly a horse. The weaponsmaster was found beaten in his own Salle. The baron likely bottomed for his dance master. There were -mortals- in the main hall, still Enchanted."

"They cannot function, because they cannot bear to look at each other. They -remember- everything; every touch, stroke, word, and penetration. They remember, and the place has come to a standstill." With great glee.

"....Daaaamn, short stuff."

"Oh, I cannot take all the credit but... oh my. That -did- feel good."

"I didn't think it was that bad of a joint, in th'grand scheme of things..."

"I visited. They treated the common kiths, at best, like pets. They took it from boggans during the war." He smiles. "Let them overcome this, then."

"Hmph. Should tell th'kid THAT one. He'd like it."