Sythyry (sythyry) wrote,

Roommate Song [1 Hispis 4261]

I was sitting on the railing of the boardwalk near the library, trying to understand something complicated that my overrated grandparent had worked out and codified some three thousand years ago, reading alternately from one book (Orren author) that oversimplified everything to the point where all the details made no sense and another (Rassimel author) that discussed every every every detail to the point where nothing made any sense.

Ghirbis:[Singing]"Sythyry, descend thou unto earth! / Sythyry, land, o, I bid thee land! / Sythyry, descend thou unto earth! / Sythyry, cease thy ceaseless peregrinations about the orbs most celestial, and return to this world-branch to grace us with thy presence!"

The railing of the boardwalk is at hand-height to a Rassimel. Ghirbis' head was rather higher than mine.

Me:"Ghirbis, I'm right here."

Ghirbis:[Singing]"From the globe of the stars I do bid thee descend like a bolt of shortening! O, Sythyry, I do summon thee!"[Literally, "Like a bolt of a duck"; "duck" and "lightning" being vaguely similar words in their dialect. -bb]

Me:"Lighting, not shortening. Lightning descends in bolts. Also I am right here."

Ghirbis:[Singing]"Descend like lightning, descend like shortning, descend like pungent pickled plums!"

Me:[Singing, badly]"Behold thou, O bepickled Rassimel! I am here, fresh from sitting on the heads of the creator gods and basking in the heart of the sun-lamp!"

Ghirbis:"Oh, there you are, Sythyry. I can finally understand you. I bring you good tidings and bad!"

Me:[Singing, very badly]"She brings to me assorted tidings, she brings to me news of this and that, her words will make me whee and weep!"

Ghirbis:"Perhaps you ought to leave the singing to me, for I am a peerless and eloquent and liqueur-voiced mid-term Oratory student."

Me:"Perhaps I will. In any case I have tidings for you."

Ghirbis:"What tidings are these?"

Me:"You first!"

Ghirbis:[singing, well]"No, no, I insist -- your tidings are as gracious as drops of coriander-scented sap drizzling down from great Virid, and they must prevail and come first!"

Me:"Does coriander-scented sap actually drizzle down from Virid's celestial eidolon?"

Ghirbis:"Who knows? I doubt that anyprime has gotten under it; it is very very far away. So it might well!"

Me:"I suppose it might. In any case, if the Creoc god's eidolon does drizzle anything, more likely it is coriander-scented sap than, say, skewers of grilled mice spiced with arhoolie in the Hryczdzau style."

Ghirbis:"Ah, Sythyry, you bring me weep -- tears are now mine! You say that great Virid spurns the cuisine of my natal region? How can this be?"

Me:"She may not spurn it; I merely suggest that, perhaps, she does not excrete it."

Ghirbis:[Singing]"I am consoled, I gleam with grace and gladness, I am trying to quote The Troublers of Tulterry but I cannot remember the words!"

Me:"In any case, as predicted, Real-Eel cannot move to Quendry House."

Ghirbis:[Singing]"I am dissoled, I endarken with worry and disgladness, I still cannot remember the words!"

Me:"But you are not surprised."

Ghirbis:"Not a bit so. For my news: Anoof and Narngi will share a room. This is good, but I had hoped they would each take one."

Me:"Better than before! And the bad tidings?"

Ghirbis:"Thelvion will not room with us. He lacks the money."

Me:"We were going to ask Thelvion?"

Ghirbis:"Were we not going to ask Thelvion?"

Me:"I did not think so -- I accidentally omitted that part of the conversation from my diary, and, as I am a diarist and you are not, it did not occur."

Ghirbis:"You are a diarist; you scratch away bits of forever in a great enchanted scroll; you thereby are worthy of honor and respect and a modest stipend from the Vheshrame Department of Flowing!"

Me:"I am?."

Ghirbis:"Yes, certainly. Although -- not to be too exacting -- the stipend will be very modest indeed. Almost unimaginably modest."

Me:"So modest it cannot be seen at all."

Ghirbis:"Precisely! So we must now seek other people."

Me:"We must. Esory?"

Ghirbis:"She lives at home, with the great mages who bore her."

Me:"A pity, that. Your turn."


At this point, I turned into a gigantic seventeen-headed blue-green scorpion, boiling in a pot of lye. Or, more accurately, I squeaked, "Dustweed?"

Ghirbis:"Dustweed, indeed -- a Herethroy both-female, a neighbor of mine, a person of noble birth and passing good skill at this and that. You might have met zir here or there, for zie is often found in the area."

Me:"For a fact, I do know Dustweed."

Ghirbis:"You dislike zir? You seem to be fairly close with her day-to-day, in the logistical and friendshistical senses both."

Me:"I had not thought to ask zir. Associating with zir has not done that well for me."

Ghirbis:"The friendship of a Great Baron counts for nothing at all; the friendship of Tethezai counts even less."

Me:"The disdain of all other Herethroy in Vheshrame is not entirely pleasing."

Ghirbis:"Not all of them! Agrimony says he does not."

Me:"I barely know Agrimony. He's in some classes of mine, but I do not know him otherwise."

Ghirbis:"I do! He is seeking a place to live. He also wrote an impassioned essay asserting the equality of primes and certain nonprime species, including wherriwheffle, mherobump, and taptet. I suspect his radical opinion extends to his own species. I more than suspect -- he has mentioned it!"

Me:"Let me think on this through the night. I certainly wish to leave Dubaille. Leaving Dustweed would have its good points."

Ghirbis:"Too late for you on most of them!"

Me:"Doubtless. Also what do the Cani think of it?"

Ghirbis:"Their fiance has lived with zir for a year."

Me:"There is that. Still, I would like to muse on this."

Ghirbis:"You are distressing and peculiar. Or, at least, you plan to live in the area and you care about the opinions of locals."

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