What Does a Libertine Do On Her Day Off? [18 Nivvem 4261]
I wasn't particularly planning to be terriffically friendly with Jrakh -- and I'm not -- but I had gone to Floooooooosh's bakery after Enchantment class, and I was flopping around in mid-air trying not to spill two toasted poptaloops off a little handleless basket (Floooooosh was out of little baskets with handles), and Jrakh was at a table lapping cinnamon kathia out of a chalice, just as if she weren't the empress of a distant and largely fictional empire forty-seven thousand miles away. Or, at least, willing to pretend that she is.
Me:"Hi! How's your distant and largely fictional empire?"
Jrakh:"Pretty sleepy! I am performing a heiros bibamos of kathia now to try to wake it up. In public. With members of the six intelligent species of primes. Want some?"
Me:"Sure! I am honored to be numbered among the six intelligent species, especially after you proved so thoroughly that I ought not to be. Which two species aren't to be considered intelligent? Khtsoyis and ...?"
Jrakh:"Khtsoyis and Orren."
Me:"Why Orren? I notably admire Orren!"
Jrakh:"Why Orren? You, as a connoisseur, need to ask this? Specifically, my Orren roommate did the dishes last night."
Me:"This is not usually a sign that the entire species is Khtsoyisish. Indeed, it is often to be appreciated."
Jrakh:"She was in a bit of a hurry. Wanted to get to the bookstore before it closed, you know."
Me:"I can sense doom approaching, but I do not know from which quarter."
Jrakh:"Your Orren-sense is accurate! She knocked a candle over and set the kitchen table on fire. And didn't notice it for a ninth of an hour, being too busy scrubbing three-day-old fishpots."
Me:"Oh, dear. How bad was it?"
Jrakh:"She didn't get to her bookstore. The kitchen is more or less ruined. The rest of the apartment was too smoky to endure that night. Our neighbors did not quite lynch us, perhaps because they were exhausted with carrying water and casting spells and saving their own homes. I am going to have to sleep elsewhere for a few weeks though." She lapped intently at her kathia. "I know Rassimel aren't allowed to be tired, ever, but I had already run through my sleep resistance and then some."
Me:"That doesn't sound like great fun. And I have sworn off Orren for life on much smaller provocation."
Jrakh:"Probably wise. Still moping about Ilottat?"
Me:"Heavens, no. I have a new Orrenfriend, named ... never mind, she's a bit quiet about it."
Jrakh:"Oh, good for you. Aside from being a member of a degenerate and doom-prone species, Ilottat is personally very much of an Ilottat."
Me:"I could hardly agree with you more! What's he doing now?"
Jrakh:"Self-stimulation with a new set of Zi Ri reference materials, I should imagine."
Me:"I imagine that both his wife and I prefer it that way."
Jrakh:"His wife? Oh, right, he's married." She shook her head. "Orren are all crazy. Speaking of which, when's the next meeting of the Traff Student Assembly?"
Me:"I don't know that there will be another one. The first one was pretty troublesome."
Jrakh:"Oh, c'mon! I'll come ... I'll bring another couple of us, too. And no more pranks."
I used my new but heavily-practiced skill in diplomacy to demur without making any particular promises or being particularly offensive.
Well, should I do another meeting of the Traff Student Association?
Why or why not?