Un: TerribleTinkerer [Text]

[badnewsandshitlist]

This air, it’s so persistently damp and cold, it actually reminds me of the deep winter back in Whitestone. That familiar chill immediately makes me think about the last true Winter's Crest we shared, which feels like a lifetime ago.

​ I have no idea what day it is, and I deeply miss the clarity that comes from stable environments. Instead of the calculated, predictable focus that I crave, we are all stuck navigating this persistent absurdity.

​ And yet, even amidst this chaos, it is a profound relief to have those closest to me nearby. Our purpose here is critical, and we will see it through. I simply yearn for the day when I can return to my own structures, when I can enjoy the spiced cakes and pastries from home that fill the air during the holiday, rather than enduring this.

​ The celebrations back home are how my family anchors ourselves in history and peace. They remind us that all the madness eventually leads to quiet, ordinary life.

​ So, fellow travelers, what are the tiny, wonderful things you're missing? What is the equivalent festival or time of quiet for you? Tell me about anything that reminds you of a place that follows basic, sensible rules.

-Keylethus Pikegratia Taryon d’Shorthalt-Grogson, Heir to the Shattered Glory.
​
​(P.S. If anyone has a recipe for a truly strong black tea, your help would be a tremendous relief.)

Comments

Text - Username: LaFleurDeParis

[repaintress]

This place is terrible. Therefore, I am certain there is an Englishman around to answer your tea query.

[badnewsandshitlist]

My esteemed colleague, I was just thinking the same thing. The sheer audacity of this place, offending our collective standards so flagrantly, is truly unbearable.

I am about to embark on the delicate mission of procuring something suitable; perhaps you would care to accompany me? Two sets of discerning eyes are certainly better for ensuring the competence of any potential tea-maker. And should that initial mission fail, I would be amenable to shifting our focus to acquiring a more robust, liquid Plan B.

[repaintress]

Tea is not my preferred beverage. I am French.

[badnewsandshitlist]

My dear. Your logic is utterly unimpeachable. I must confess, I failed to anticipate the full extent of your cultural predisposition toward aesthetic imperative. The mission profile has been officially altered. Forget the boiling of leaves; we now proceed directly to the acquisition of a robust, non-negotiable liquid Plan B. I rely entirely on your "superior" knowledge of what constitutes a suitable vintage for this clandestine endeavor.

[repaintress]

[ She has the impression he's already indulged. ]

Do you favor overwrought wines as you do words?

[badnewsandshitlist]

I assure you, my clarity of mind is utterly unimpeachable. And I find your analogy to be a palpable failure of discernment. You are comparing a perfectly calibrated mechanism of precision (my speech) to a mere failure of aesthetic ambition (an 'overwrought wine'). My vocabulary is chosen for necessity; I find it rather tiresome that you confuse essential engineering with trivial indulgence.

​Now, if you are finished confusing structural soundness with simple flavor, shall we locate this liquid Plan B?

[repaintress]

It is not your clarity of mind that I find wanting. You're an intelligent man. What is slightly distasteful is that your selected mannerisms give off the impression that you're insecure about your intelligence and that you desperately want approval from others. There is a difference between using the words that most suit the occasion and so overloading yourself with syllables that you come across as insecure.

I may have brought back some of our hosts' wine from the previous excursion along with the art. It is passable, if you would like to partake.