Catfight, part 1[13 Oix 4261] and [14 Oix 4261]
Anyways, Thestra and Denaist and I had a long dinner on a vast amount of zabouf and chocolate and ground ground-nut pie, with suitable side dishes. Pickled seaweed, cucumber and tomato and bread salad, and pickled mushrooms. Denaist didn't eat any of those, of course. Oh, and offirrah. Denaist was pretty impressed at how much offirrah I can eat, which lead him to ask...
Denaist:"What species are you, Blueshell?"
Thestra:"Hush, hush. That's a very rude question."
The officially correct Sleeth answer is, "But I am the Sleeth! I do not know or care about this 'rude'. Perhaps Denaist is not an officially correct Sleeth, though.
Denaist:"Then I ask a different question. What species do you want to be?"
Thestra:"Blueshell, I forbid you to answer that question now. The Sleeth must be taught a lesson."
Denaist:"I sulk! I mope! I mourn!" He did not do any of these things. Instead he telekinetically snagged another large serving of zabouf.
The Most Erotic Part of the Whole Visit
Two hours later, the bipeds among us -- Thestra, and, confusingly, me -- were sitting on a couch, with Denaist sprawled over the back of the couch, one forepaw on the seat, and his chest draped over Thestra's shoulders, so that they were sort of leaning on each other. Thestra and Denaist don't buy good brandy very much, and they didn't have anything they wanted to serve a guest. We were drinking orange and clove tea instead.
I admit that Denaist's tailtip was on my head.
Well, at least for a while. When he started flicking it, I got up and sat on the ottoman instead.
But that wasn't the most erotic thing. The most erotic thing was, after a third of an hour or so, Denaist fell asleep. Thestra grinned at me, and said, "Watch this!" She carefully extricated herself from under her lover, and left him, still asleep, supported on one forepaw, leaning on nothing, in a position three parts awkward to two parts goofy.
We giggled about that and made vaguely rude comments about it for the rest of the evening.
Doesn't strike you as erotic or questionable or any such thing? No more does it to me.
The Aftermath [14 Oix 4261]
The next afternoon Ilottat and I had a date. Well, one of our usual dates, where I go out in Orren shape and pick up some food and we bring it back to his apartment and talk and play games, and then I turn back to a Zi Ri and get sticky, then I turn back to an Orren and go home.
Or that's the official plan. We got as far as "talk". I made the mistake -- the utter, horrible, stupid, insane mistake -- of telling him about Thestra and Denaist.
Ilottat:"What did vous, you, do?" His fur was all bristly.
Me:"I had dinner with some friends."
Ilottat:"Ex, from, Across Saga?"
Ilottat:"Dans, in, their home?"
Ilottat:"You shouldn't vennoot, associate with such people!"
Me:"It's not a problem. Thestra's a guild member, she doesn't steal from Vheshrame natives."
Ilottat:"I am not talking about her diefstal, her thievery!"
Me:"Well, what are you yelling about?"
Ilottat:"You samengekomen, met, her at Across Saga!"
Ilottat:"Then how gallu, can you?"
We went in those circles for a while. I summarize his objections thus:
|The Crime||Ilottat's Deepening||My Commentary|
|Thestra and Denaist are traff.||I shouldn't be vannooting, associating, with the traff.||Um ... aren't I traff myself?|
|Thestra and Denaist are lower-class.||I shouldn't be vannooting, associating, with the lower-class.||Their class is gonna rub off on my species?|
|I more or less went on a date with Thestra and Denaist, and there might have been canoodling involved as well as vanooting.||Knowing [Sythyry], there probably was.||There wasn't! And what do you mean by "knowing [Sythyry]", anyways?|
|Besides, Thestra and Denaist are traff, and I shouldn't get the impression that traff couples can simply live any sort of reasonable life together.||No! Bad Zi Ri! No!||??|
|Besides, I met Thestra at the traff cafe!||And you know what kind of people go there.||...|
Me:"But I am transaffectionate. You are, too."
Ilottat:"Don't speak that way to me."
Me:"Then I shan't speak to you at all."
I turned back into an Orren, ran out of his apartment, tripped on my stupid lack of enough feet, fell most of the way down the stairs, realized that I'd forgotten most of my clothes, created a huge lopsided hideous green flappy bathrobe with a spell, threw it on, got outside, realized that it was Hot Surprise and that most Orren on the street were pretty close to naked anyways and nobody would be wearing a huge lopsided hideous green flappy bathrobe, wore it home anyways, tried to find Ghirbis, failed, and wound up, in Zi Ri shape, in Floooooooosh's oven for almost an hour and a third. I think I persuaded any onlookers that I am actually Orren, or at least given to wild rushes, even if they saw me turn into a Zi Ri.
Which was not really how I had intended to break up with Ilottat.