011514doirrysporlibby

 CSO: T.T. o ( The both of you awaken to find invitations have been slipped under your door. )

 -- CURRENT galactoidArrival [CGA] picks it up and inspects it. --

 CURRENT gregariousTroubadour [CGT] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.

 CGT: ~Ryʃpor doeʃ likewiʃe.~

 CSO: The invitation is printed on very fine paper, with softly torn edges. In red text, in alternian and human, it reads. "You have been cordially invited to high tea with lovelyLibrarian3863, the Last Archivist of Arena, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Please attend in the Library.

 -- CURRENT galactoidArrival [CGA] checks the time on his laptop as he captchalogues it. --

 CGT: ~Ryʃpor hvrriedly adjvʃtʃ hiʃ tie and ʃmoothʃ hiʃ bangʃ back a little aʃ he captchalogveʃ the invitation and headʃ to the library.~

 -- CURRENT galactoidArrival [CGA] also starts on his way to the library. --

 CGA: "psssst, ryspor. are you goin to the tea thing. can i follow you i dont know where it is"

 CGT: ((hey SO what does the button for the floor the library is on look like))

 CSO: ((it is a circular button on a raised platform in the center of the elevator with a scarlet "L" on it.))

 CGT: ~"Oh, yov have an invitation aʃ well? Certainly, follow me." He walkʃ over to the elevator and pvʃheʃ the bvtton, holding the doorʃ for Doir briefly. ~

 -- CURRENT galactoidArrival [CGA] quickly follows along. --

 CSO: The elevator descends slowly, playing soft music. It stops on a different floor labeled E, and an imperious Carapacian enters. Ryspor, you recognize Erzedbet.

 CGT: ~Ryʃpor inʃtantly makeʃ himʃelf look aʃ vnaʃʃvming aʃ poʃʃible, giving the very ʃmalleʃt of waveʃ.~

 CGA: Doir gives a quick glance at Ryspor, and copies him.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: Er, minus the wave. Just the unassuming bit.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Erzedbet glares at Doir, then glances at you, Ryspor. "Who's this asshole?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Ah, merely Libby'ʃ neweʃt gveʃt, Miʃʃ Erzedbet, ma'am. Terribly ʃorry if we've inconvenienced yov."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: Doir, used to carapacians like the Black Queen, stays completely silent and doesn't stop staring ahead. Mad servant skills, yo.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Erzedbet eyes Doir as the elevator once again begins its decent. "He's not going to cause any trouble for the mistress, is he? She's sick again because of that idiot troll."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"I aʃʃvre yov, he'll be no trovble at all." He glareʃ at Doir meaningfvlly.~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: Doir nods back as if to say, 'i got this'

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Erzedbet grumbles and begins pulling on gloves. "And now she's adopted a fucking cow. Who adopts a cow? Apparently some half-mad ancient bookkeeper, that's who. THe thing is a mess. Not even house broken yet. Guess who gets to clean THAT up."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~Ryʃpor winceʃ ʃympathetically. "It mvʃt not be the moʃt ʃatʃfying work day, I ʃvppoʃe."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Erzedbet rolls her eyes as the elevator stops at the library. "Off you go. I'm going further still."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: Doir steps off, walking with an air of practiced formality and confidence.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~Ryʃpor getʃ off hvrriedly, waving again aʃ he exitʃ the ʃmall elevator.~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Right, ah, where were we? Ah yeʃ, the library, haha. Thiʃ way." Ryʃpor ʃetʃ off along the corridor and ʃoon comeʃ to the library doorʃ, opening them qvietly and looking arovnd for Libby.~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Erzedbet rolls her eyes as the door closes. In the library, libby is sitting on a large armchair, reading a book. A calf with soft golden fur is curled up in another chair beside her. Across from them, over the coffee table laden with teacups and cakes, is an empty couch.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: Doir followed along right by his side.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Ah, hello there, Libby!" Ryʃpor walkʃ in and ʃitʃ down on the covch. He waveʃ gently to the ʃmall bvll, a ʃilly grin creeping onto hiʃ face. "And hello to yov aʃ well, my fine yovng bovine. It'ʃ very nice to meet yov. My name iʃ Ryʃpor. What might be yovrʃ?"~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: Doir follows along again, sitting down and uttering a small "hello, libby. hello, golden calf"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: The calf looks up at Libby, alarmed. She reaches across the arms of the chairs and gives a comforting scratch to his head. "He merely answers to 'the Calf' or 'Dear', 'sweetie', and 'darling'." She smiles. "I figured you two might be hungry."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Well, in that caʃe, I'm glad yov covld join vʃ, dear." He tvrnʃ hiʃ attention to the food platter, and ʃelectʃ a ʃmall cake from the aʃʃortment. "The ʃnackʃ are indeed mvch appreciated, thank yov."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: Doir takes some piece of food too and eats it. "thank you very much!"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Libby leans forward. "Would you like some tea?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Ooh, yeʃ, thank yov."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: "sure, thank you"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: She fills three cups out of a fine porcelain teapot, before handing you each one, balanced on a small saucer.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: Doir takes his cup and little plate and takes a formal sip, before setting it down to continue munching on whatever.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~Ryʃpor takeʃ one delicately, and ʃniffʃ the aroma appreciatively. "Ahh, coffee may be deliciovʃ, bvt it haʃ NOTHING on a good cvp of Earl Grey."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Libby takes her own sip, watching you over the top of her cup.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "how are you liking the tower?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: Doir takes another sip before answering, "it's very nice! much better than whatever might be outside"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: "and your library looks quite expansive! libraries are cool"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "You've been spending too much time on Derse."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: "yeah, it's a relief on my eyes to see things that aren't purple."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Libby nods. "Well, down to business I suppose."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "You two are... Moirails, yes?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: "yep" Doir smiles at Ryspor.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Indeed." He ʃmileʃ back.~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: She nods. "Let me be frank. Balish is probably going to take a moirail soon."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"That'ʃ good. He certainly needʃ one, if I may be frank."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: Doir listens intently, as he doesn't really know Balish enough to comment.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "I have a favor to ask." She continues sipping her tea, eyeing the calf, who appears to be napping on the chair.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~Ryʃpor takeʃ another bite of hiʃ cake. "Aʃk away, I ʃvppoʃe."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "As I'm sure you know, twinks don't normally have 'moirails' per se. I had hoped to get one before Balish," her eyes flick to Ryspor momentarily, "so that I could be more comfortable with the situation, but that appears to not be happening. As such, I must ask that you two subtly monitor the situation, and please let me know if he or his moirail cross the lines of propriety." She finishes her tea, and only when

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> she sets it down on the saucer does the rattling betray how her hands are shaking.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: "sure thing! who do you think is a suitable moirail for balish?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "Maenam. From what I understand they've already begun..." She clenches her teacup in her hand tightly. "paleflirting."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~ Ryʃpor takeʃ a ʃip of tea, looking anywhere except for Libby, ʃneaking a concerned glance at her every ʃo often. "...Ah, yeʃ, I did notice that dvring my brief excvrʃion on Proʃpit."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "Yes." She reaches out and strokes the calf's head again.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: "i am friends with maenam, but unfortunately balish doesnt really tolerate my, uh, well, me"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"I think I may be able to pick vp the ʃlack on that front. Baliʃh and I are on relatively good termʃ at the moment. Perhapʃ yov take one, and I'll take the other?"~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: "sure, that sounds good."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Libby nods. "However you think best. I just need to have some assurance, since the whole thing feels like infidelity to me."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"I vnderʃtand. Adjvʃting to an entirely new method of romance mvʃt be incredibly difficvlt."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "regardless. My partner has a need that I cannot fulfill. Apparently she can. But I need to know if it goes to far."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"We'll enʃvre neither of them roam towardʃ the flvʃhed ʃide of thingʃ, not to worry."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Or, haha, the blacker ʃide, if that'ʃ what yov enjoy, haha, ha..." Ryʃpor takeʃ another hvrried ʃip, blvʃhing ʃlightly.~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Libby's grip on the cup tightens, and the handle breaks off with a soft 'snk'. "What."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: Doir looks surprised at Ryspor, like wtf im the one whose supposed to be saying the bad things by accident here cmon dude.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~Ryʃpor realizeʃ he haʃ made a grave tactical error, and haʃtily backtrackʃ. "I'm ʃorry, I didn't mean to imply, I, I merely, pleaʃe forgive me for offending yov, I, ah, I meant no offenʃe, merely a joke made in rather, rather bad taʃte, no, forgive me, HORRIBLE taʃte, I ʃhovld never have even ʃaid anything, forgive me once again..." At thiʃ point he haʃ bvried hiʃ face in hiʃ handʃ completely, ʃo

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> the apology iʃ mvffled ʃeverely.~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Libby sets the glass down, and stands up. "Enjoy your tea." She snaps her fingers, the sound a loud, dry crack through the room, and the calf sits up and climbs out of the chair, following her out of sight.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: A few moments later you hear a door shut behind a bookcase.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: Doir shuffles right up next to Ryspor and puts his arm around him. "dude, defo shouldnt have said that, ah"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: "but its okay, you can apologize later, uh, as soon as possible kinda later"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: Trying to think of ways to make Ryspor feel better, Doir says, "hey, wanna have like, a feelings jam or something?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~Ryʃpor lookʃ abrvptly at Doir at thiʃ ʃvggeʃtion, pavʃeʃ a moment, before abrvptly ʃtanding vp, babbling, "I-I don't, I'm ʃorry, I can't, not now, I have to, to-" He fleeʃ, ʃvddenly, ʃlamming the door ʃhvt behind him.~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGA: "oh, um, okay bye"