Sythyry (sythyry) wrote,

My New Suite [27 Thory 4261]

Yesterday, I lived in the fireplace in a smallish bedroom I shared with Dustweed and sometimes zir consort Tethezai: two and a half people in one room. Today I live in a small suite, which I have yet to name: two and a half rooms for one person. The half-room is, of course, a private chamber for personal necessities. The one room is my personal parlor and study. The other is my bedroom. A larger and more flammible person would call my bedroom a walk-in closet, but it does have a fireplace, and so it is a bedroom as far as I am concerned.

Which does mean that I'm the only person in Quelldrie House with an actual suite. I should be pround -- vain -- arrogant -- I should take this opportunity to lord it over my roommates! Except that they would make me pay them more rent, and they're mostly my seniors.

Or perhaps I should complain that my lodgings, alone of all the rooms we inhabit, lacks a walk-in closet. I daresay I could get a nice fool's argument out of Ghirbis about this, especially with some brandy about.

In any case: the parlor is quite pleasant, being nearly a right triangle seventeen feet on two sides and longer by an amount that only a mathematician could cherish on the third, with a door to the corridor near the right angle, and two doors to the smaller rooms next to it. It is on the third floor. In prior times, it was a library, I believe; the long wall and one short one are covered entirely in bookcases.

Except by the windows, which are large, and glassless, and blocked by a variety of spells which keep out most things. The Herbador spell is fraying, by intrusion of a somewhat magic-corrosive vine, and I shall have to do something about the one or the other this year or I shall wake up to find my ribbons being courted by twining plant tendrils. Misguided twining plant tendrils. Tender tendrils, I suppose. In any case, I should fix it -- it is a Sustenoc spell after all, and make the landlord pay me back for it.

For furniture in the parlor, I have two very old couches covered in mismatching mauve leather, one slightly old couch covered in mismatching green leather, a large and very old map-table made of some dark wood so heavy and dense that one can scarcely imagine carving it, a small, new, and very casual table made of a somewhat broken door and a pair of sawhorses, a small wine cabinet, and various minor items. The walls are paved with matching blue leather, except for half the room, where they are paved with books. (Yes, paved.)

My personal room is quite cozy, and has many horizontal bars at various heights for perching upon. It is blessedly free of windows. One may consider these to be remnants of its time it spent as a closet. I do not: I consider them to be gifts from the creator gods, intended for me since the dawn of time, or at least the starting of construction of Quelldrie house. Or that is what I shall tell Ghirbis, at least. The walls are of plain wood, but quite nice and well-polished arken wood. A stuffed carcanofex is hung over one of the closet rodperching-bar. For this reason I am considering naming it the "Carcanofex Suite".

The room for personal necessities is quite ordinary in most respects. Ordinary for an upper-class house, that is. It has a strong spell for purification of the air against noxious scents, which is something I rather missed in my former apartment. (That, and magic windows which cannot be closed and thus remain easy to fly through.) The sink and toilet are fed from a tank on the ceiling, which I can refill with my talisman every few days. There is no bathing-place -- who would go to the library to take a bath? -- but the sink is large, and I am small, so I imagine that I will use it when I don't feel like going to Dustweed's rather better-equipped bath, or Ghirbis'.

There is much more to say about it. Most of what remains to say about it is tied up in packets, stuffed in crates, hurled into baskets, and otherwise assorted into assortulations, and, I imagine, shall remain so for some days more.

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