236 [It's almost like Deja Vu]

[impure_tale]

Where the FUCK are my manuscripts?!

[The Marquis looks...different. There are few remaining on the Barge that remember when he used to wear a wig, or dress in a fashion befitting the time he came from. Perhaps if people recall how he appeared during the Mirror floods, they might have some idea. Another thing of note, however? He's older somehow, as one of the boons he was granted at graduation was an extra twenty years of youth. What's more? He's quite unhinged, eyes wide and bulbous with rage, frazzled, and it's quite apparent that in the background he's torn his desk apart looking for what appears to be missing.]

Romana, I will kill that little worm and you will not stop me.

[He's pacing like an agitated tiger in a cage.]

By the Holy Virgin's bearded cunt, if he's damaged them I'll carve their replacements in his dimpled backside! 

Comments

[impure_tale]

[He throws something heavy in response and only appears to be half listening. He's still turning his cabin upside-down in search of something that's not there.]

[routemistress]

...any road, 'ow do you know about the dimples?

[impure_tale]

[He turns back with a nasty grin. Unheard of in his graduated years, he could be a consummate liar if the fantasy comforted him more than the reality. Why not destroy the Master's reputation a little bit if he's too much of a coward to come out and gloat?]

Because he showed me.

[routemistress]

[Iris' answering grin is a shade less nasty and more genuinely amused, but only a shade. The Master never earned his way off her personal list of People The Multiverse Could Do Without, and her experience as a warden hasn't changed that.]

Now that's what I call cruel and unusual. Marquis? If 'e's actually on board this ship in this time, I swear to you I will 'old your flower, warden or no.

But I don't reckon 'e is. I've got 'istory with that fucker meself, and I'm pretty sure I'd know.

[impure_tale]

That doesn't get my manuscripts back.

[routemistress]

Sweetheart, I am thirty years ahead of you, I've got no flipping clue what 'appened to your manuscripts. But I'm always game to give that arsehole a good kicking.

[impure_tale]

Then you're of no use to me.

Find my Warden.

[routemistress]

I'm guessing you mean Romana? Calm your tits, Marquis; you'll 'ave 'er back at flood's end. She's not on board right now.

[impure_tale]

No. ...No, she's not gone.

[routemistress]

[And then she loses her temper.]

Marquis! Will you get the flipping saveloys out of your lug'oles and shut the 'eck up long enough to 'ear what I say!

No. She's not gone. You've been separated by a flood. It's temporary. Listen, Marquis - you'd been graduated forever when I signed on this voyage, and I've been 'ere thirty years, now. I didn't even know who your warden 'ad been.

Trust me. It'll be all right.