Sythyry (sythyry) wrote,
Sythyry
sythyry

Second Date [15 Thory 4261]

I got a reasonably nice blue feathery Orren dress sort of thing, with some help from Anoof. Actually I think it's supposed to look like fish scales. It's nice, and it's fairly short, which means I don't trip over it as much.

I can understand Ilottat's nervousness a bit more. He lives in a room in the Daukrhame embassy. He shares a staircase and four servants with seven minor diplomats and spies and such. Since Daukrhame is a fairly political sort of place, and Daukrhame and Vheshrame are close allies -- um, by which I mean, the Duke of Daukrhame asks the Duke of Vheshrame's permission to fart, though I gather that the Vheshrame ambassador to Daukrhame has a large stack of permission forms -- the diplomat-spies are probably more interested in Ilottat's personal life than in Vheshrame's secrets.

So I waddled over to the concierge sort of servant, and said that I am Ilottat's new girlfriend and I would like to be announced.

Zie asked me for my name. Oops!

"I'm, well, Prepares-Feathers."

"I see. I shall tell him that you have arrived." Zie got that very blank expression that Daukrhame Herethroy get sometimes, and trotted up to the second floor, and knocked on a somewhat battered door. "Count Ilottat, your Orren conquest has arrived, dressed for further conquering. Prepares-Feathers, I believe she calls herself today."

His apartment is full of books. Books and bottles. Books and bottles and ...

"Prepares-Feathers? Don't you realize how opasno, dangerous a name that is for me?"

"I had to think of one in a hurry! And it's sort of like Strenata's names. Next time I'll come up with a different one."

He calmed down. "I'm pretty sure it won't be any trouble, but I would like you to be very careful."

And I got to look around more. Books, bottles, chalices, a big sloppy leather-sack-of-feathers of a bed, three windows with heavy drapes drawn, a copper candlestick with a Flokinspaw and a little Pyrador enchantment, a desk with a half-written something in an alphabet I don't recognize, three chairs, a mobile of the gods' celestial eidolons... Complicated and educated and rich and noble, like Ilottat.

... and we had our clothes off and my true shape back inside of a ninth part of an hour. A bit less awkward this time, just as sticky, and, as Yarwain suggested, there's not that much difference between a bed at Darraden's and a feathersack in an apartment somewhere.

And, for those of you who are reading this entirely for prurient interest: it is indeed tolerably pleasing. Or, in Ilottat's case, almost intolerably pleasing: he certainly seems extremely pleased. It's quite fun to watch.

And we sat around and chatted for an hour or so afterwards. I got extensively flattered. He wrote a love poem to me. It's in Drechthalian, so I didn't get more than a couple words, but it sounds good.

And, for those of you who are worrying and fretting about details, it really is about me. There are three rhymes on my name. He doesn't use my name, or my species -- I'm pretty sure he's using species-independent pronouns all through -- since the servants come and tidy his papers now and then. (It doesn't really show -- Jarmiet's more fierce about tidying our things.)

He has a test tomorrow, so we called it an early evening, and I turned back into Prepares-Feathers, and got dressed, and walked home.

Where I realized I was out of cley (from a heavy day in Enchantment in the morning, plus the three I used Orrenning around). Yuck. Cloak of Another God has to run its course (a few hours), unless you use another spell to break it, and without cley ... well, I did my studying in an Orren body tonight.

A pretty happy Orren body!

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