(no subject)

[thou_dumbass]

No, thou wilt not "intro" me out of sheer boredom, my girl. We are a far more demanding creature than that. There will be a great deal more thought and consideration put into things if thou art truly intent upon flinging me about; do not think of us as one of your accessories.

Comments

[ohohosmack]

Problem, Ruf?

[S'up.]

[thou_dumbass]

One of which your own "mundane" is well aware, in fact. He interacts with ours on a regular and gleeful basis.

[Yo.]

[ohohosmack]

The dear boy does get up to such things-- Giving your 'mundane' trouble? Or perhaps its the other way around in your old age, set in your ways.

[Fancy seeing you around.]

[thou_dumbass]

She knows as well as we do that it is far preferable to remain unmoved by the idiotic whims of the people around us. The silly bint hath failed to even consider a time to pull us from, yet she wishes to drop us right in like a stone in a pond.

[This one likes to hear himself talk pretty. It was bound to happen sooner or later.]

[ohohosmack]

You'd certainly cause a few ripples either way. It can be quite difficult to remain unmoved when that force around grows to be stronger than any preferable things known.

[All that pretty talk and the stuffed birds that may or may not get dressed up in maid outfits when he thinks no one is watching.]

[thou_dumbass]

We shall see which force is the strongest, then.

[You shut up. You and your stupid progeny and their stupid prissy unicorn spy Chain.]

[ohohosmack]

Does she have any points in time she's considering, Ruf?

[Her stalker Chain doesn't help much either. Also, you'd miss her if she actually died because of you so hush.]

[gather_ye_rosebuds]

You may have met your match, there, Duke.

[thou_dumbass]

Dost thou refer to this arrogant young thing attempting to control me? She flatters herself to even wonder if she is capable. We are not like that foolish clown she so fancies, and she hath confessed in the past to a lack of true understanding of our personality.

[gather_ye_rosebuds]

I dost, yes. [Wry smirk goes here.] And I think she may surprise you.

[thou_dumbass]

Thou sayest that as though we would be vexed by such a thing if it did come to pass. We simply have rather immense doubts.

[To be proven wrong is annoying, of course, and Barma will throw all sorts of tantrums about it through his meatball alter-ego. But if the correction leads to an advancement of his own knowledge, or to something interesting happening, or to someone he really can consider an equal? Well, that's a positive thing as far as Barma is concerned, and welcome.

But he has to be proven wrong, utterly and thoroughly, before he'll accept it. That takes quite a lot of work.]

[gather_ye_rosebuds]

[Immense doubts for an immense ego... and hair.]

Aren't you always vexed when things don't go the way you expect? Or is that just the round little man who shows what you're really thinking?

[thou_dumbass]

[Your hair has only retained equal size and luster because you died at, like, twenty-two or something. Sniff.]

Thou wouldst do well not to presume that either presentation ever shows what we are really thinking.

[psychopath]

Wow, Arthur never spoke like that.

[thou_dumbass]

Not in front of thee, at least.

[Spoilers: There was more than one diary.]

[tricipher]

[HEY. NO MENTIONING HIS OTHER SECRET DIARY, GRANDSON/NEPHEW/SOMETHING.]

[thou_dumbass]

[YOUR POETRY WAS REALLY SOMETHING, DUDE.]

[tricipher]

[No poetry will ever adequately describe Jack's beautiful eyes...]

[psychopath]

[]

Well, good heavens, is he right? Do you do a little...practise sort of thing in front of the mirrors every morning?

[tricipher]

O-of course I don't!

[He totally does.]

[psychopath]

[I WATCH YOU SLEEP DON'T LIE TO ME]

I think it's...quite adorable, if you would pardon the term, my friend.

[psychopath]

For good reason.

[He tips his head to the side, looking curious.]

You know that even Glen doesn't speak like that?

[thou_dumbass]

The speech patterns of a man a hundred years dead do not particularly concern us.

[Lies, of course. Barma wants to know everything, always, and copying the way someone speaks is one of the most essential factors in a solid illusion of them.

He's just being a brat.]

[psychopath]

[Technically I'm older than you, Barmy, stop that and get off my lawn :I]

Really? And I thought the Barma family liked knowing things, how...curious.

[He smiles, brightly.] Arthur's a great friend, though.

[thou_dumbass]

[He's not on your lawn because you chucked your lawn into the Abyss, which is not exactly Rufus Barma's favorite vacation spot, thank you. And anyway he already knows a thing or two about Glen Baskerville, even if these things are warped by a considerable bias. Miranda's diary was full of self-insert real-life fanfiction, you see.]

Truly. Not everyone would go to such troubles to create an entire linguistic code on someone else's behalf.