003.

[champions]

FORM: crystal
SENDER: Kostos, Nikos, Marisol
RECIPIENT: everyone
WHAT: don’t feed the zombie
WHEN: current
WHERE: Kirkwallerino
NOTES: Zombies, man. Related to the Nevarra diplomacy effort.

Beloved Inquisition. Charming, benevolent, remarkably good looking, delightful Inquisition.

(Here there is a quiet snort of sarcasm that belongs to Nikos.

Off to a great start. Marisol sighs wistfully. ) You will be happy to know that we are making headway in repairing our relationship with Nevarra. There is much to do, still, but the team I attended with did excellent work, and I am thankful to all of them.

Marisol. ( Quiet chiding, not really meant for anyone else but her. The point, Marisol, the point. )

Ah! ( A moment of enlightenment. Bless you, dear cousin. ) Another of my wondrous Nevarran relatives has descended upon the Inquisition. She is residing in the Gallows, but I would ask all of you to treat her with the utmost respect, and maintain a safe and healthy distance.

( c: )

She— ( wait, no, Kostos isn’t playing along with that ridiculousness ) —It is in a locked room in the central tower. You should not be at risk of encountering it unless you make an effort.

Don’t make the effort. Unless you want your eyeballs speared by long fingernails and the state of your cloak slyly disrespected. The former more likely than the latter. I think her tongue is rotted. (wait…. In a Kostos voice that actually sounds pretty much like his own voice, slightly different accent, slightly more sullen? Less sullen? Hard to say.) It has a rotted tongue. All dust.

(And he sounds way too darkly amused about that. Meanwhile, Marisol sounds as chill and entertained as always, the faint note of reproof entirely playful. )

Great Great Great Aunt Berenike is a woman of considerable reputation, but presently also of considerable temper. She has very graciously acquiesced to participate in our efforts to cure the revered dead of the Necropolis of their current ill-humour, but she is not not one to suffer fools.

Except for dinner. She will gladly suffer fools for dinner.

Comments

[exsecutus]

She preferred Berenike.

[champions]

No no, Berenike.

( It sounds exactly the same. With a little more r? Or maybe just exactly the same. )

[exsecutus]

Go home to Antiva, whorebag.

[Well he doesn't say 'whorebag' exactly. The equivalent, in Nevarran. And he says it fondly. Don't you stress the rs at him dear cousin.]

[champions]

( A sigh, as if he just gifted her with the sweetest of compliments. Know that her hand is over her heart. Bless. )

But then I won't be able to brunch with you, snapdragon.

[exequy]

[ This is, suddenly, the best day of Kostos' entire life. ]

[exsecutus]

[hey go die maybe]

[exequy]

[exsecutus]

[wait this isn't fun anymore

by which I mean, begrudgingly echoing the hand over heart in his head but like, so begrudgingly ugh]

Funny. We don't brunch now.

[champions]

Well not right now, no, it's too late in the day. We could have brunch tomorrow.

[foundmyselfagain]

I want to have brunch tomorrow.

[ Hi. ]

[champions]

You are always welcome for all meals. We can add some extra ones.

[exsecutus]

Good. He can have mine, whoever he is.

[foundmyselfagain]

Your new best friend, if you keep letting me have your food.

[exsecutus]

[exsecutus]

Changed my mind.

[foundmyselfagain]

Great! I'll be delighted to come over see you all.

[exsecutus]

Thank you for the advance warning. I'll make sure to be very, very, very drunk.

[Maybe even dead.]

[unshadowing]

Bernicky? Burriny?

[He is absolutely doing it on purpose.]

[exsecutus]

I suggest trying these nicknames on her. Of course, she is a little hard of hearing, because her ears have rotted off. You will have to get quite close.

[unshadowing]

Ha. I'd love to... once we figure out what's causing them to go berserk and fix it.