101

[impure_tale]

Someone come take this yapping monstrosity from my chambers before I do something I will regret later, and don't let me look at her for another few days.

Theatre Troupe: Double rehearsals tonight. After the first hour expect to rehearse without your copies in hand. Your collective inability to grasp such a simplistic text is nothing short of astounding, and I'm tired of holding your hands. It's laziness, is what it is, and I'll break you of it.

(ooc: Both Pavi and the Abbe have disappeared. The Marquis is two ticks from having a meltdown of Gene Wilder-esque proportions. Feel free to fan the flames.)

Comments

[Private]

[highcollarevil.livejournal.com]

Because I am sure you'd rather feel sorry for what happened between me and myself, instead of actually understanding what led to this... event. In fact, I am certain that no human would truly be able to comprehend everything that transpired, even if they did try.

No, of course not. But what can I say? My future self -- one that won't come to be, I'll have to make certain of that -- has apparently seen to it that few people here want to anyway.

[Private]

[impure-tale.livejournal.com]

I'm not sorry it happened or blathering on about what a poor hapless victim he was at your hands. Regardless of what I say, I can assure you I care even less for that little hemorrhoid than I do about you. I just can't abide hypocrisy.

I have to wonder how much that wretch dislikes himself without need of a second copy about, if the two of you really cannot see eye to eye. It's shameful, really, and not a wonder that he hasn't ever truly left this place. It's somewhat impossible to imagine bettering yourself when some less damaged part of you hasn't the will to believe you can.

[Private]

[highcollarevil.livejournal.com]

I never said my future self couldn't be improved upon, but it is by far easier to divert some rivers at their source, than to try guiding them once they've settled into a path.