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Sunday, December 29th, 2002

Time Event
10:44p
History of Real-Eel
Hisss! Real-Eel explained where she got that breathing spell: it was a gift from Nestrune Kreslink. Evidently they were rather an item for a good month and a half early in the term.

At risk of telling this story backwards: the original plan was that, after Nestrune fleered at the senior students and refused to walk naked through the buttery, the senior students were to play a serious sort of prank on him. Real-Eel was to seduce him off to a presumably private room, but insist that she was distressingly dry about the privates, and that the best sort of wetness that could be achieved -- which is to say, one that would not push her to taking water-form -- was a raw egg cracked over the male's protuberence, and well rubbed in. As the egg was being cracked (Real-Eel fully dressed, Nestrune bare from belly to tailtip), the illusory wall of the presumably private room was dropped, revealing a half-dozen students disguised as faculty, and much amusement was to be had.

It didn't quite work out that way. By the time the illusion was dropped, both of them were thoroughly undressed, and, as far as the story goes, not a bit unhappy about it. The egg was not applied to Nestrune's intimate extension; instead, it was tossed at the gentleman who was imitating Professor Achitka. There was much laughter, but not all directed at Nestrune, as would have been proper. He brought out several bottles of port and brandy, and appeased the others that way. After which, he and Real-Eel disappeared together, and reappeared the next morning rather holding hands a lot.

Five weeks later, they broke up over a political argument. Real-Eel is quite the firefish! She takes the political position of ditlocracy: that rulership should be redistributed every twenty-seven years. So, each month of years, all nobles lose their titles; all legeriats and judges and such are replaced. And, in Real-Eel's more radical thoughts, even the very forms of government are replaced. One cycle it might be the natural kind of government; in the next, there might be three levels of greater nobility, or only one; in the one after that, perhaps only scholars are qualified to rule.

There's a great deal more to say about that. Nestrune and Real-Eel said it at length, in public, and, by the fifth week, as much with flung beverages as with words.

I'm not sure what I think of this. Nestrune's bootprints are not the ones my feet fit best. And I am, if anything, less suited for ditlocracy than any mortal would be.


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Current Mood: contemplative

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