The King lives.

[agoldenchain]

Comments

Cygna.

[agoldenchain]

[again, several minutes later. The writing is a little shakier, and there's a fair bit of effort put into each letter]

it is

horrible sight that

Rick.

[cygnettes]

Stop jok   Stop writing, Jones. Go do what you have to.

Cygna.

[agoldenchain]

[a noticeably longer pause]

right

be home soon

Rick.

[cygnettes]

[...]

When you get back, we can talk as long as we like. Without messing up your hurt hand. Okay?

Cygna.

[agoldenchain]

leave a light in a window for me eh

Rick.

[cygnettes]

Yes, your majesty.

Cygna.

[agoldenchain]

garters for me this time

Rick.

[cygnettes]

[Pause for laughter and blushing. If she'd been drinking tea, it'd be all over the pages.]

It depends on how well you tell the story of what in the world happened to you.

Cygna.

[agoldenchain]

[a lazy arrow pointing down to this comment]

Rick.

[cygnettes]

Seriously?

Cygna.

[agoldenchain]

garter worthy ?

Rick.

[cygnettes]

It depends. You'll still have to tell the actual story, you know! Persuasively.

Cygna.

[agoldenchain]

demanding

Rick.

[cygnettes]

It's the least I could do. You just made me worry myself sick for two days. I think my apartment got the brunt of it; it got cleaned and reorganised from top to bottom several times over.

Cygna.

[agoldenchain]

not mine

max was feeding the fish

come home to ruins

Rick.

[cygnettes]

I can clean it while you sit on your butt and recuperate. And tell me tales of what I can only assume were, um, daring heroics. With pirates and turbans.