realityshifted | (no subject)

[A ruddy-dressed man appears in the middle of the Plane, squinting from beneath a really horrible old hat.]

Och. This must be sum kind o' witchery... De'il be damned an' curse 'is mum, there be stars where there ought to be ain't. I dinnae ask fer this, ye ken? An' who wud? Ach... too old fer this. Wonder if'n Private Pulsifer canna tell me wot this all's aboot.

[He takes a long drag off a cigarette hidden in his hands calmly and looks around, as if waiting.]

... Ye kin send me back anyday now.

...

Ye've got sum nerve, keepin' a man like me 'gainst 'is will. A lotta nerve. Wot do ye ken ye git? I've a mighty finger, aye, I'll tell ye, I'm a man with a hand, an' I'm not afraid t' use it. Th' first Witchfinder on record e'er t' perform an exorcism on a demon... er... I think...

[He considers this for a long moment, then lets it go. His memory slips when he tries to think of the occasion.]

'Course, I'm retired now, but if I canna git rid o' a witch an' 'er wiles thin I was nae a Witchfinder ever. [coughs loudly] Figures I'd hef t' deal wi' a bunch o' Southern pansies. Aye... Ne'er a good explinashun fer anythin' when there should be.

[a little louder] Sen' me back or I'll be forced ta use sum lethal weaponry, ye ken!? Ye deaf'n'ignorant totterin' lean-witted malkins! YE KEN?!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

And we certainly do not eat snow, sir.

[Shadwell doesn't care. He's going to eye you all squinty eyed while he touches a tin from his pocket rolls a cigarette invisibly. Like a magic trick.]

[And Mu is going to stare at him, wondering what bug crawled up his ass and died that morning]

[Only the good die young, Mu.]

Are you afraid I will do something to you?

I'm nae afraid o' some Southern snivelin' icelicker.

....We don't lick ice, either. But if you were not suspicious of me, I doubt you would be slinging insults at me so ferociously.

[lololol]

I ain' slingin' insults. S'truths.

Then you've been to Tibet? You've lived with the nomads at the roof of the world, and sipped butter tea with the monks in Lasha?

Nay. But I've seen things'll make ye hair fall out, laddie.

Then what you speak are not truths, merely poor assumptions.

Oh I'm sure that is debatable.

A bit testy, ain' ye?

It has been a trying week.

Try 'arder, son.

Would you like the full list or the abridged version?

I dinnae wan' ter hear ye life storeh.

The short version then: I've had the wits scared out of me twice in as many days, my pupil is missing and in very possible life-threatening danger and I fear for the sanity of my friends, as it's been decaying quite rapidly as of late. I think I've a good reason to be somewhat touchy.

... Weel then. Tha's poor, ain'it.

[cough]

You did bring it up.

I dinnae care either way.

Then do not comment on it.