Voice Test: no spoilers

[finefuckery]

[ There is a man in your bedroom! Or your kitchen, or just somewhere that is yours really. He is dressed head to toe in highly functional black leather, and has an incredible greying mane. He smells like sweat and the sea, and inexplicably of... lavender?

And he's touching things. He's touching everything. Just casually picking up trinkets and turning them over in his hands. ]

Now this? This is neat. This is cool. What do you call this?

Comments

[finefuckery]

[ inspecting the knives, but decides they all suck ]

Weird door.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ they are indeed terrible. Cheap stuff, not designed for stabbing at all.

There is a little plush dormouse sitting atop a tin of teabags. Also, Martin freezes. ]

A. A door. Was it. Yellow, maybe?

[finefuckery]

Aaaah, yeah. Was yellow. Didn't have any yellow doors on my ship. And then I did!

[ he... puts down the tea kettle to take the dormouse in booth hands. Is it soft and fuzzy? ]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ It is EXQUISITELY soft and fuzzy. The cutest little thing. ]

S. Ship? On the ocean?

[finefuckery]

Mmhm.

[ he considers it a moment then rubs it against his cheek above the beard ]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Martin just sort of stares at that. ]

What are you doing now.

[finefuckery]

[ startles, like he didn't realize what he was doing ]

Nothing. Robbing you. None of your business.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ He folds his arms over his chest. ]

Robbing me—-! I’d say that’s very much my business!

[finefuckery]

Awe, a little robbery's not so bad. Could be mugging! Or maiming!

[curriculum_fictae]

Oh whatever, I’m going to die anyway, so who cares about that. But you’re not taking Dory.

[finefuckery]

That's the spirit. Won't be taking hostages, though, way too much bother.

[curriculum_fictae]

Good then. Put her back.

[ He gestures to the dormouse. ]

[finefuckery]

Hmm? Oh, nah man. I'm keeping this.

[curriculum_fictae]

You just said you aren’t taking hostages. And currently? You’re holding my only friend.

[finefuckery]

That is astoundingly sad.

[ says the man with no friends at all ]

[curriculum_fictae]

Yes, well, give it back, or I won’t make you any tea.

[finefuckery]

... could just kill you and take yer tea.

[curriculum_fictae]

Stealing my tea wouldn’t result in it being made, now would it?

[finefuckery]

[ Damn that's a good point ]

[curriculum_fictae]

Sit down, relinquish the mouse, and give me back my tea kettle. You can steal the scones.

[finefuckery]

Yeah alright. But only because I want to. [ shakes a knife at him ]

[curriculum_fictae]

Yes, yes, of course. I am at your mercy.

[ Holds out his hands for the mouse and the kettle? ]

[finefuckery]

[ hands them off. at least today is interesting ]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Yup. And this redhead may look like a milquetoast bit of nothing, but he’s got a spine down there somewhere.

Anyway, he puts the mouse back and the kettle on. Gets down the tea tin. ]

D’you have a tea preference? Cream, sugar?

[finefuckery]

Splash of milk and seven sugars.