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Old 03-18-2004, 02:18 PM   #150
Lush
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"Tea, darling? Coffee? The tears of little orphans (quite salty this season)?" Leninia inquired gamely of Soregum, seated oppsite her on a sumptuous green sofa, recuperating from last night.

The sun, steaming through the glass doors of Leninia's patio, revealed her eyes to be a deep, sparkling blue. If Soregum had it in his mind to travel far and wide, he might have one day discovered her eyes to be reminiscent of the colour of the night sky somewhere on the seas close to the Equator (if higher education had blessed Soregum with the basic skills of determining not only the location of the Equator, but what in Muddled-Mirth the Equator was in the first place).

Outside, ghostly voices chattered gamely about death, fate, and various heroes' hair colour.

The day was shaping up to be a swell one.

"Tea, please," Soregum muttered meekly, overpowered by his hostess' charms.

"Certainly," Leninia hiked up her olive skirt to reveal a glittering flask held close to a milky-white thigh by a black garter.

Obedient tea-cups danced out of the cupboard and onto the table, and Leninia poured a steaming mixture for herself and her guest.

Soregum, meanwhile, managed to gather his jaw off the floor in more or less dignified manner.

"What an usual way of, um, drinking tea you have there, Madam," he managed to say when the furious blush of his cheeks had more or less died down.

"I find the magic flask is a good way of keeping warm," Leninia replied, her eyes suddenly moist. "Since my husband's death..."

Here she was interrupted by the Entish Guitar's derisive snort.

"...Since then, I have been of the opinion that stocking the furnance with all the excess lumber lying around here is not a bad idea," Leninia finished, hissing through her pearly teeth,.

"Oh, Mother, it was but a hiccup," the Entish Guitar sniveled.

Soregum, wisely, decided to stay out of it.

***

"Biscuits! Coffee! Fresh towels!" Disembodied voices called out in the dungeoun, unseen hands flipping the light switch to reveal a group of supine prisoners, that immediately began to stir and pick sleep out of its collective eyes (save for Merisuwyniel who was above such matters, per usual).

"The showers are down the hall to your right," a voice called out over Earnur's ear, whilst unseen hands dispensed breakfast. "Please, for the love of all that is unholy, take pity on our weak stomachs, and do consider taking one," it continued, moving away from Earnur quickly.

"Er, there are showers here?" Earnur inquired.

"Hah, what do you think this is, a gulag?" The voice sneered.

Throughly confused by the new vocabulary word, Earnur elected to shrug his shoulders manfully.

"Please ascend the main stairs within an hour," the voice continued.

"Thewe awe thtairs hewe?" Pimpi inquired through a mouthful of biscuit.

"Hah," the voice sneered. Here we assume it wanted to be clever again, but Leninia's screech from above bid it shut up and make haste. Which, mindful of its own safety, it did.

***

On the stage of Leninia's amphitheater, sat Soregum, his eyes still glassy after partaking of Leninia's magic tea, wholly unconcerned with the strained dialogue going on behind the curtain.

"Mother, I'm suddenly scared," The Entish guitar whined. "What if they take me? The possibility of leaving your suffocating bosom is freaking me out."

"Oh please," Leninia yawned regally. "I've never lost this game before, and that idiot over there [Leninia jabbed a pretty finger in Soregum's direction] is thoroughly under the spell."

"But what if you did lose?" The Entish Guitar asked, snapping back into derisive mode. "Wouldn't you find yourself buried under the rubble of your own destroyed ego, Mother?"

"Eh," Leninia said, pursing her lips in a thoughtful, yet fetching fashion. "Losing would actually be something new for a change. Do you think that being stuck in this house, with these invisible spooks, is that exciting? Why, I can't ever take a shower without being worried for my privacy. And you are sounding pathetic. Here I thought your ancient heritage would be awakened within you, and all that jazz. Sap."

"Brat," the Entish Guitar replied half-heartedly.

"Wimp," Leninia fired back.

"Scarlet woman!" The Entish Guitar shrieked.

"Yellow stinking coward!" Leninia snapped.

"The mucus spit of a diseased pig!" The Entish Guitar showed its creative side.

"Much, better, baby," Leninia cooed, stroking the wood affectionately, just as the shuffle of cautious yet heroic feet sounded nearby.

"Darlings!" Leninia stuck her small-pretty-and-not-at-all-surgically-altered nose out from behind the curtain.

"Did you sleep well? Did the ghosts not bother you? They do have unquiet dreams this time of year. And when shall we begin?"

Last edited by Lush; 03-20-2004 at 08:30 PM.
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