Crackplot!

[sceltwarlord]

From Khary that isn't intentional.

Khary has been keeping a still, wanting the supply of drink, just in case. Fortunately, it wasn't the more potent one that exploded. He's not entirely sure what happened, but there is definitely alcoholic, half-magic vapor floating around, just waiting to be inhaled. He's doing his best to contain it, but hey, at

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[edgar_huntly]

Edgar isn't entirely sure why he feels intoxicated--he hasn't been properly drunk since he was a boy, but the sensation is much akin to it, and (under the pleasant giddiness) he isn't sure he likes it at all. A walk in the garden would clear his head, he thinks; therefore he'll be walking a little gravel path between great bursts of pansies, swaying only a little, thumbs hooked in his pockets.

Typist: ... er, could a kind Khary-type delete that anonymous comment?

[doctor_pascal]

He might come across a Republican Frenchman, coming from the opposite direction, smiling kind of ridiculously at himself. He'll give a very friendly nod to Edgar on his way.

"Lovely afternoon, non?"

*points down* We have a Tristan, now, by the way. Just thought Palomides would like to know. ^___^ He's from Beroul.

[edgar_huntly]

"Lovely," he answers, without hesitation. "There were never such flowers at home, not even in the best-appointed houses--" and he stumbles over 'appointed' a little, but grins. "My name is Edgar Huntly, sir. What is yours?"

We are ashamed to say that my Palomides knows your Tristan about as much as your Tristan knows my Palomides. Namely, if I remember my Beroul correctly, they have never met. Am I remembering right?

[doctor_pascal]

"Pascal," he grins, and mumbles, "Pascal Rougon, Monsieur Humbly. Sorry, Huntly. The variety is astounding," he agrees. "Very much so."

You are correct, in Beroul, they never meet, I thought maybe Palomides had met Tristan, though.

By the way, Gwen died. It was fun. Especially for Kay.

[edgar_huntly]

"Humbly--Humbly might be a good name for a man who wished to live humbly," he says, and that was an absurd thing to say, wasn't it--he offers his hand to shake. "Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Rougon?" His pronunciation is rather imprecise.

I noticed that. *facepalm*

[doctor_pascal]

"Just Pascal," he replies. "Humbly, if you want. But don't mistake me for Blaise Pascal, please. I'm not that kind of man." Cheerfully, and he takes the handshake.

She had it a long, long, long time coming. Poor thing.

[edgar_huntly]

"You are certainly the only Pascal I have ever met, sir," he answers, "But I shall let you know if I meet another. What sort of man are you?"

[doctor_pascal]

"A very, very simple man," Pascal says with a smile and a slurring, doctrinal tone. "A simple man who likes flowers, and his horse. And who doesn't like when his horse eats the flowers. That's just sad."

[edgar_huntly]

"Very sad," he agrees--agreeably, of course. "But when the flowers should eat the horses, then truly the end is nigh."

[doctor_pascal]

"That --- would be highly uncomfortable, since we might be next. Though considering that horses have been vouching for humans lately, it's not to be perceived as impossible."

Pascal is suppose to speak wisely. Sort of.

[edgar_huntly]

"Vouching for humans? In court?"

[doctor_pascal]

"Oh, no, we don't have that here." He pauses, looks very confused, a moment. "Do we? It would be practical, I suppose, but who could be the judge? How very odd, all that. I did not know we had a court."

[edgar_huntly]

"I'm not sure that we do. I have never been called to stand in the jury, certainly."

[doctor_pascal]

"Neither have I, but that might be because those don't quite exist in France," he replies with a bit of a chuckle.

[edgar_huntly]

"Do they not? Then I do not wonder at the murmurings of unrest that have whispered across the Atlantic." The French Revolution hasn't yet happened, for him, but it certainly looks ready to happen at any moment.

[doctor_pascal]

"Unrest? Oh oui. We've not quite had peace in the last 200 years, give or take," he replies, more sober.

He remembers Silvere's death, suddenly, and that makes for being a bit of a sad drunk, unfortunately.