inbox.

[heirring]

[action + written + crystal]

Comments

[bouchonne]

Now, now, let's not go too far, madame. Those who want nothing endure no suffering. And you suffer quite a lot, I think.

[heirring]

[There's something in that which makes her bristle. If asked, she wouldn't be able to put her finger on it. But— it's there. A little prickle of annoyance or doubt or the suspicion that she is being somehow patronized. Rather than speak directly to it, however, she veers in the direction of:]

Is there something you need, Mister Rutyer?

[bouchonne]

Nothing for myself, no.

[ He sounds blithe as ever. If he regrets offending her - and there's no question he offended her - it's certainly not audible in his voice. ]

I just wanted to remind you you are admired.

[heirring]

Well. [Well!] Yes, well, that's very thoughtful of you. Perhaps you may remind the rest of the company of this fact at your next convenience.

[bouchonne]

Do you want me to? I will.

[heirring]

[A short breath implies an impulsive reply that she has set her teeth around rather than actually speak aloud. Then, after a beat—some of the spit and vinegar having been drained from the thing, leaving its gloomier dregs behind:]

No, it wouldn't do any good.

[bouchonne]

No, probably not. [ Said utterly without gloom. ] But it could be fun to tell the - please forgive my indelicate language - the assholes to go screw themselves.

[heirring]

Well, I can hardly stop you from seeking out whatever form of entertainment pleases you best.

[Technically speaking.]