11 ɂ open spam

[mattersverymuch]

[It's been so many years since the marquis was young that he'd almost forgotten what it was like. He had been so small, ill-fed and underweight, and so easily broken. Which, really, explains a lot about what he's become - none of which he particularly wanted explained to the Barge as a whole.]

[To distract himself somewhat from this unfortunate reality, he has begun work on a compendium of stories, as he has nothing else to do with his time. Much of his work is done in the library, but much is also done in the CES, which becomes, variously, an abandoned city in a mishmash of styles, a thick, temperate, and foggy hardwood forest, and a riverside. He works mostly from memory and attempts comprehensiveness, though his writings as late veer toward tales of the trickster.]

Comments

[ Spam ]

[mattersverymuch]

[Fortunately for Dean, the marquis is not one to blindly stumble into violence. He uses violence as a tool, wielded by those indebted to him, when things go right.]

[To someone else, that sharp tone combined with those words might feel like a barb. Not to him. He just smirks. It's a weak attempt, if it even is one. In fact, it makes him feel better.]

I lie awake for plenty of reasons. [Since they both know anyway.] Not that one.

[He doesn't move away. He doesn't move closer. He doesn't move at all.]

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[surfaceshine]

[It wasn't intended for a barb, so much as it was just more of the same that he'd been talking about earlier: everything he puts back into the world when he gets too tightly wound is anger. He's still smiling, anyway, and he doesn't really react to the smirk, either. That's normal. That's expected.]

So I guess the real question here is, am I meant to ask about the books, or is that a trap for someone else?

[ Spam ]

[mattersverymuch]

It's a trap for someone else. It wouldn't catch you anyway.

[He knows the traps too well. Anyway, if anything, it's a trap for the marquis himself.]

[He looks at Dean innocently.]

Going swimming?

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[surfaceshine]

[Normally Dean might even be up for a little more of their usual verbal sparring, but today he just snorts roughly and gives him a doubtful look.

He doesn't want to know and he doesn't care, and he holds the rocks up as if to prove his point.]

Yeah, sure, I just thought I'd fill my pockets up with stones first to challenge myself.

I don't swim. [Except for how, metaphorically speaking, he always does. Except for how, when he has to, he will.]