Not happy about upcoming applications at lastvoyages

[mightymorbid]

Your definition of 'good news' leaves much to be desired, Mundane.

Comments

[thumbsize]

But good news is good news!

[mightymorbid]

[Since he's not at all accustomed to talking to such tiny people]

Who said that?

[thumbsize]

[waving near his elbow.]

Down here!

[mightymorbid]

...

[Well that's interesting; he lifts a hand and it seems he may or may not have been about to poke her but restrains himself]

Some kind of sprite?

[thumbsize]

[She giggles into her hands.] I'm not a sprite!

[mightymorbid]

[Well she sure sounds like one.]

Then what are you? ...More to the point, how did you even get in here? I don't see any wings.

[thumbsize]

I'm a little person. I'm Thumbelina. [Beams.] It's nice to meet you. [totally ignoring his other questions.]

[mightymorbid]

[Gods, you're perky. :| There's a little guffaw when she says her name. From his shoulder Xerxes slithers, sniffing at the air around her and circling above. He shares a look with Mozenrath, and something passes silently between them.]

[Flatly] Fascinating. And what brings you here, Fingerella?

[You're going to have your name messed up forever now :| On purpose.]

[thumbsize]

[She makes a little frown, glancing up at Xerxes for a few seconds before looking back at Mozenrath.] Well, actually, it's Thumbelina. And you asked a question. I wanted to answer it.

[mightymorbid]

My mistake.

[He doesn't sound very apologetic.]

Truth be told, I don't think I started asking questions until after you got here.

[But at least this is distracting him from the inevitable torment that will be the weekend]

But to clarify, good news is only good news if you think it's good news.

Guess Who.

[ittybittyspace]

I have some even more good news for you, Mozey

Oh -you-! :D

[mightymorbid]

...Let me guess. There's a new, more reliable way to kill a Genie.

[ittybittyspace]

[GENIE used 'ignore'. It's super effective!] Nnnnnope. Guess again!

[mightymorbid]

All right: I'm dreaming this entire encounter.

[ittybittyspace]

Do you normally dream about me?

[mightymorbid]

I can say with confidence that I don't.

[ittybittyspace]

Whew. That makes us both sleep a little better.

[mightymorbid]

It would have been preferable, I'm sure, to whatever you're about to tell me.

[ittybittyspace]

[Is that a guitar he just summoned? Why yes, yes it is. He strums a chord.] That you and me Mozey are stuck like glue. [Yup, this is happening. He is definitely playing Sugarland.] Whoa oh whoa oh! Stuck like glue. You and me Mozey, we're stuck like glue.

[mightymorbid]

[Is that fire that just shot out of his hand?]

[ittybittyspace]

[Does this look like a (The) Who concert? Destroying such a beautiful guitar so thoughtlessly... He lets the ash that was once his guitar pour onto the ground.] I liked that guitar too.

[mightymorbid]

Well, if you'd like for me to send you to join it...

[ittybittyspace]

Do I get to play another song first? I know I have a set of bagpipes somewhere...

[mightymorbid]

Were you planning to get to the point anytime soon, or was this just another social call?

[ittybittyspace]

Aw, you guessed it.