[5 Thory 4261]
Continued Fuming About Strenata
This is a summary of half a night's thrashing and coiling around in the fireplace -- to the point that Dustweed, ordinarily the mildest and soundest-sleeping of roommates, suggested that I go sleep in the oven in the kitchen, or, more accurately, sit in the largest pan, as I was surely stir-frying something.
Which is correct. I was stir-frying Strenata's visit.
Why doesn't she say what she intends about our relationship? If she doesn't want a physical relationship, why does she keep putting me on her shoulder and gossiping about other peoples' physical relationships?
And what does Seeks-Days mean by "my favorite Zi Ri", anyways? Does she know any others? I suppose she might have met Hezimikkinen, but I can hardly imagine my half-sibling being at all civil to Strenata. Hmph.
I am sure it's time to swear off all Orren forever again. I haven't done that for ... days. Weeks.
So I flew over to Thery and Yarwain to whine about Strenata.
But when I got there, I was prevented from whining.
Thery:"Oh, good morning, Sythyry! We were wondering how your encounter with Levande went."
So, instead of complaining, I was required to give a report ... a full report ... a full detailed report ... a full detailed explanation, complete with details of what the countess was wearing, what she ate, and what she said. Especially what she said. Especially especially what she said about Thery, Yarwain, and their unborn child...
Who is, by the way, starting to be an almost noticeable lump in Thery's midriff. Thery and Yarwain are now discussing, which is to say bickering, about what to name the child. Not the real name for use after birth, but the temporary name that they will tell everyone beforehand. Some candidates include "God-of-Pumpernickle", "Grangolffazoon", "Blue Trumgullion", "Smirking Grief Monster", "Yarwainsquirt", and, of course, "The Radish".
Anyways, after a digression about the names of the almost noticeable lump in Thery's midriff, we were back to Levande. I could not remember the color of her hat (which I only saw briefly) or waistcoat (which I was staring at for the whole of the dinner). I could not remember what she ate, despite writing it down that day; I promised Thery and Yarwain that I'd look it up and tell them.
I could tell Thery and Yarwain what the countess had said about them, and I did, is almost as much detail as the actual conversation. Indeed, sometimes in more details, as I was called upon (or voluneered) to provide interpretations and second-guessings of subtle choices of phrases. (I promise that I did not waste a single syllable on exaggeration, despite what you may think of me from this journal.)
When it was over, Thery was in tears of course, and Yarwain was holding her. Not that Levande had said much of anything too cruel about her. We all had the impression that Levande was a good deal more devoted to Thery than, well, Strenata is to me. (Not that I managed to so much as mention Strenata's name, and certainly not that I managed to whine about her to even one Rassimel, much less two. Or three, though I don't suppose the child will be much good for whining at until at least after the temporary name has been chosen.)
I do gather that gravid Rassimels are a bit more volatile than non-gravid ones. And that Thery is devoted to Levande approximately third among all people on the World Tree, with Yarwain and someone not yet named being the first two.
And I flew off, out the window like a good little spy, and realized that I hadn't gotten my dawnly allotment of whining and it was already midafternoon. There was nothing to do about it save: grumping, grumbling, moping, breathing fire at passing pigeons, and getting to my Notable Magical Catastrophes class rather late. Prof. Ili was talking about Llezcaryg's accidental destruction of the Dumanaat city. Which I have heard about from everyone from two of the Wild and Scaly Llezcaryg's lovers (viz. ~mother~ and Glikkonen) to Prof. Alzagond teasing me about not using it in my Enchantment Class.
(No, I don't know it. ("It" being the enchantment technique called 'The Wild and Scaly Llezcaryg's Disaster', though that name is often used for what zie did to Dumanaat rather than the enchantment technique proper.) I don't think Glikkonen knows it. I don't know that anyone but Llezcaryg knows it. Which is slootly for the best.)
In any case, Prof. Ili made the inevitable barbs that I shouldn't do anything like that, just because I am the only conspecific of the Wild and Scaly Llezcaryg in the Academy. Hmph. I can think of a triple dozen students who would be more likely to do it, just among people I know.