Ev picks on Isildur and Peter again
Session Start (AbleNet:#desperatefans): Tue May 09 09:50:29 2006
Rosier: *wanders in, twirling something that looks like a pocket watch*
Isildur: *sits near the window, trying to read*
Rosier: *sees a rather pretty young man sitting by the window so wanders that way* Hullo...
Isildur: *looks up* *nods* Greetings.
Rosier: I don't think I've seen you around before. *if he has he's forgotten*
Isildur: *he has, actually* ... I think we met a while back, though not for long.
Rosier: *blinks* I'm sorry. I didn't recall. *fiddles with the 'watch'* I don't remember your name.
Isildur: *rises to bow, then, because is a poli
Rosier: I guess you know me. Evan Rosier. *smilesmile*
Isildur: *nods*
Rosier: You look like something's on your mind... you're too handsome to go around looking so sad.
Isildur: ........... well, I'm a bit... confused. Nothing you need to burden yourself with, though.
Rosier: Maybe I could cheer you up?
Isildur: *raises eyebrow* How so?
Rosier: I don't know. Do you know how pocket watches work?
Isildur: .... no.
Rosier: Darn. *slips it into his pocket* *shrugs* Would you like some tea?
Isildur: ... was that one? - Sure.
Rosier: Yes. I don't know why it won't work. *thinks then goes to the kitchen to make timewarp!tea because that tastes better than conjured tea*
Isildur: Hm. Strange.
Rosier: *comes back with tea* *and 'biscuits'* Well, some work just fine, but not this one. I found it at a Muggle shop in London.
Isildur: *blinks* At a what?
Rosier: *blinks* Oh. *sets down the tray* A shop in London. Run by Muggles.
Isildur: I must confess I never heard of such creatures...
Rosier: You're one. It's a word for people who aren't wizards.
Isildur: Ooooh, I see.
Isildur: *somewhat amusedly* Sounds like something small and furry, though.
Rosier: *looks amused* Well... some of you are. *pours the tea*
Isildur: *raises eyebrow again* Are we, now? But surely some of /you/ are, too.
Rosier: Yes.
Isildur: And they are called...?
Rosier: Us? Wizards, of course. I was just pointing out that Muggle could describe somethingone small and furry.
Isildur: Ah, but so can wizard, then...
Rosier: Well, yes. What's your point?
Isildur: Oh, just that you'd need a special term for small and furry "Muggles", then. Or small and furry wizards, for that matter. *is actually more on the amused side by now*
Rosier: I don't really want to talk about small and furry Muggles as a subset. Most Muggles are bad enough just for being Muggles.
Isildur: Why bad?
Rosier: *holds out a teacup* Well, you don't know anything about wizards.
Isildur: *sobers rather a lot* I knew /one/ wizard, and that was bad enough.
Rosier: Who was that? *curious*
Isildur: Our King's right hand. *scowls*
Rosier: That wouldn't be so bad, I'd think. *sips his own tea*
Isildur: *snorts* Except that he is to blame for the death of friends, and the sinking of our island...
Rosier: Everyone always blames the wizards.
Isildur: I don't know about "the wizards"; but as that particular wizard had a temple built in which many of the Faithful were tortured and slain, and incited the King to sail against the Valar, which was /why/ Númenor was sunk - then the blame is rightly put at his feet.
Rosier: That does seem like a lot for one man to do. What about this King of yours?
Isildur: He was not a man. - Yes, of course it was his fault also. But he wouldn't have gone that far, I don't think.
Rosier: Then your wizard must be some other kind of wizard.
Isildur: Possibly.
Rosier: I'm just a man for all that I am special.
Isildur: I see.
Rosier: I didn't sink your island, Isildur.
Isildur: *laughs* No, indeed.
Rosier: I don't even know where it is... er... was.
Isildur: *don't make Ildur break out his map!* Between East and West, but a bit closer West.
Rosier: *just looks blank* East of what?
Isildur: The West. *helpful!*
Rosier: I see.
Isildur: It was - in the middle of today's Atlantic ocean. That's where the name comes from, you know. Atalantë. That's how the Elves named it after the Downfall.
Rosier: *eyes wide and a bit disbelieving* You're from Atlantis?
Isildur: - we called it Númenor.
Rosier: There are many legends about... your island.
Isildur: I'm not surprised.
Rosier: Though your version of why it fell doesn't match up with anything I've ever heard, but I'm no scholar.
Isildur: *purses lips* And were your scholars alive during that time?
Rosier: That was too long ago.
Rosier: But I we know lots of things that happened before anyone still alive was born.
Isildur: Well, I do know what happened when I /was/ alive.
Rosier: You -saw- it?
Isildur: Not directly, seeing how we were rather lost in a storm, but I did see the Wave.
Rosier: *nods, actually a bit somber for a moment* I'm sorry you lost your home. How did you get away?
Isildur: *shrugs* It was long ago. - by ship, naturally.
Rosier: How were you warned?
Isildur: Oh, the Valar did send a lot of signs. Most people ignored them, though. And - even we had not expected it to be that bad. We had only prepared the ships because we knew that we'd be exiled or worse for not following the King into war.
Rosier: Everyone else was killed?
Isildur: *sighs* Everyone but our family, and our closest friends. And the King, some say; it is told that he was buried alive and would stay so until the end of the world. But then...
Rosier: *shudders because for some reason that bothers him* Was that justice?
Isildur: Perhaps not. But it was justified.
Isildur: ... I suppose.
Rosier: Your friends and family. Why were you saved? Why didn't anyone else listen to the warnings?
Isildur: Because most of our people lusted for immortality, and in their lust forgot to preserve what they had. We... were lucky. Blessed, I suppose.
Rosier: If you're Blessed, you probably wouldn't like me. *grins*
Isildur: Is that so?
Rosier: Very few people do.
Isildur: I see.
Rosier: I don't mind really, but it does get boring.
Isildur: And would you mind telling me why you're not liked?
Rosier: People don't like the kind of games I like to play.
Isildur: *a bit more wary* What kind of games are that, then?
Rosier: I like to hear people scream. *sips tea*
Remus: [Peter: . . .We know.]
Isildur: .......
Rosier: *very non-chalant about it*
Rosier: [Ev: You were fun. Want to play again?]
Isildur: *disapprovingly* /That/ kind of wizard after all, then.
Rosier: I haven't killed an entire nation of people last I checked. I haven't killed anyone in months.
Isildur: How reassuring.
Rosier: Dead people don't scream very much. Killing Muggles never was very much fun. Blood traitors were better, but now I'm one of those too. *sounds sad*
Isildur: Blood traitors?
Rosier: Wizards who want to mix our blood with Muggles.
Remus: [...*sends Peter in*]
Isildur: And that is a problem?
*** Remus is now known as PeterPevensie.
PeterPevensie: *wanderin*
Rosier: Yes, it weakens wizard kind to have so many mudbloods.
Rosier: *smirks at Peter but doesn't say anything to him yet*
PeterPevensie: *goes O_o at Rosier and flops onna couch*
Isildur: Really? Strange.
Rosier: It's not that I want to mix -my- blood with anyone. Eww... women... But I broke with the Dark Lord. Wizards should only breed with other wizards.
Isildur: Are there enough for that, then?
Rosier: *after a pause* Of course.
Isildur: If you say so. *less friendly than before, after the "games" interlude*
Rosier: See that boy over there? *points to Peter* *rude yeah, we know*
PeterPevensie: *totally keeping an eye on Ev, yep*
Isildur: *looks over at Peter, and may well nod to him in greeting, because is polite like that* What of him?
PeterPevensie: *nods back at Ildur*
Rosier: He's very pretty when he screams.
Isildur: *-stares-* You - *sets the teacup down hard*
PeterPevensie: *winces* --No, I'm really not.
Rosier: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Isildur: But that, sir, is despicable. *narrows eyes*
Rosier: Is it? We went outside to settle an arguement. He wasn't prepared.
Isildur: What does that have to do with anything?
Rosier: The boy carries a sword. I carry a wand. I won.
Isildur: *purses lips* I see.
Isildur: And yet, you said that he was not prepared.
Rosier: No Muggle is prepared to face a wizard.
PeterPevensie: *arches an eyebrow* Rather high opinion you have of yourself, don't you think?
Isildur: If you say so.
Rosier: *smiles at Peter* Well, I should.
Isildur: Despicable. *turns away*
PeterPevensie: Hmph.
Rosier: Come talk to me again when you've grown up. *to Peter*
Rosier: *to Isildur* And you've never done anything bad?
Isildur: I have; but I was not proud of it.
PeterPevensie: *okay, this is a -glare-*
Rosier: *smilesmile*
Rosier: What have you done then?
Isildur: Read the histories if you care.
Rosier: I -hate- reading.
Isildur: Not my problem.
Rosier: Here we were having a nice conversation... well, be that way. *pouts*
Isildur: *snorts* It was not me that brought this topic up at first.
Rosier: I just thought to warn you. I guess I was right. You don't like me. *not really disappointed, but--*
Isildur: And for good reason. *hotly* If /that/ is what your silly pure-bloodedness amounts to, I can only congratulate those of your kindred wise enough to mingle that insane blood with the more reasonable sort.
Rosier: *laughs and turns to Peter* It's so easy to rile people.
Isildur: *snorts* I am not riled; I am merely... disgusted.
Rosier: *grins* That's even better.
PeterPevensie: *deadpan* I wonder why.
Isildur: *probably moving Peter-wards himself*
Rosier: *looks between the two of them* I bet you both like girls. *eyes Peter* In fact, I know -you- like at least one.
Isildur: And what does /that/ have to do with anything?
PeterPevensie: [missing?]
Rosier: I was just thinking out loud. It's such a pity.
Isildur: *snorts* It's none of your business, that's what it is.
Rosier: If I fancied you, it would be. *smiles*
Isildur: *coldly* But you don't, so it isn't.
Rosier: Did I say I didn't?
Isildur: I am not of your precious blood.
PeterPevensie: Nor am I.
Rosier: But men don't breed with other men, so it doesn't matter.
Isildur: *snorts*
Isildur: So /that/ justifies it? Ah, the hypocrisy.
Rosier: Why does it need justifying?
Isildur: Oh, true. Why should anything /you/ do need justifying? *shakes head*
Rosier: Not what I meant at all. Tis only a bit of fun I was proposing, but nobody wants to play.
Isildur: With /you/? Certainly not.
Rosier: I'm told I'm attractive enough. So why not?
PeterPevensie: The only fun I want to have is with Georgiana.
Isildur: On the outside, perhaps. But your mind is a rotten bog, and who would wish to - deal much with /that/?
Rosier: A rotten bog? *slowly* I've heard worse insults.
Isildur: Not surprising.
Rosier: *sighs* You really are tiresome, you know, Isildur.
Isildur: Can't say I don't find /you/ tiring, Evan Rosier.
Rosier: *doubtfully* Good.
Isildur: Proud of that too, eh?
Rosier: If you want to find me tiring, you'll have to let me touch you. *leers*
Isildur: I find you tiring already. The double negative amounts to a positive, you see. And by positive I don't mean that I have /anything/ positive to say about you.
Rosier: *mock hurt* You don't even know me well.
Isildur: And have no desire to change it.
PeterPevensie: Nor do I, as a matter of fact.
Rosier: Why ever not?
Isildur: What little I got to know is /more/ than I ever cared to know.
Rosier: *glances at Peter* I'll get to you eventually, boy. *steps closer to Isildur* I find that insulting.
Isildur: Oh? I thought you'd heard worse.
PeterPevensie: *frowns*
Rosier: The idea that you don't want to get to know me.
Isildur: What, you take offense at /that/? Shouldn't have told me quite so much about your rotten character, then.
Rosier: I was just warning you.
Isildur: And now that I am warned, you are offended.
Rosier: You didn't have to be so goody-two-shoes about it.
Isildur: Well what did you expect?!
Rosier: *shrug* *still standing fairly close by*
Isildur: *shakes head, exasperated*
PeterPevensie: *still flopped on a couch, yes*
Rosier: It's a common failing with you pretty fellows.
Isildur: What is? Failure to care to get to know you after hearing of your... idea of fun?
Rosier: That so many of you pretty fellows are plagued with a conscience. They're awful things.
Isildur: I'm rather fond of mine, thank you very much.
Rosier: I wonder what you'd be like without it.
Isildur: A person not worth being.
Rosier: *brings out his wand* You don't know that.
PeterPevensie: *tenses at the sight of the wand*
Isildur: I am certain of it. *eyes the wand mistrustfully, hand moving to his dagger - doesn't have a sword with him, alas*
Rosier: *glances aside at Peter* Well, then what would you do to save that boy?
Isildur: *stares* What does he have to do with it?
PeterPevensie: *also doesn't have his sword -- it's upstairs*
Rosier: I -know- what his screams sound like.
PeterPevensie: *and there's another wince*
Isildur: Leave him alone.
Rosier: Why? You won't play.
Isildur: Leave both of us alone.
Isildur: ... I am not your toy. *might be giving Peter some sort of "get outta here" kind of look*
PeterPevensie: *will just be moving for the door now, really hoping Ev doesn't notice*
Rosier: *whirls and aims wand at Peter* Petrificus totalus!
Isildur: *fingering his dagger in the hope that'll attract Ev's attention more than moving Pe --- damn*
PeterPevensie: *petrified!*
Isildur: *but oh, if Ev is turned away from him, will definitely get that dagger out, grab Ev and hold it to his throat - or so's the plan*
Rosier: *caught by Ildur* *growls but holds very still*
Isildur: Right. Undo whatever you did to him.
Rosier: Why?
Isildur: Because otherwise, I shall cut your throat.
Isildur: *may move his dagger just a wee bit closer, so it draws the tiniest bit of blood*
Rosier: I have to be to move to undo the spell. He's perfectly fine. *speaking slowly and quietly*
Isildur: Only your arm. And being incapable of movement isn't what I understand as "perfectly fine".
Rosier: He could have been dead.
Isildur: *narrows eyes* - just restore him to his old state.
Rosier: *points wand vaguely toward Peter* Serpensortia *here comes a PO'd snake out of the wand*
PeterPevensie: *asdfgh -can't move-*
Isildur: *oh, and this would be cutting skin again* That was obviously the wrong spell.
Rosier: Serpent: *getting it's bearings after a brief flight and hard landing* *crawling vaguely toward Peter*
Rosier: *stalling but yeah, worried he'll time this wrong and end up dead*
*** Cosette has joined #desperatefans.
PeterPevensie: *would totally say hi to Cosette! Were he not petrified onna floor with a snake coming toward him. Er.*
Isildur: *what a lovely thing to walk in on, Cosette*
*** PeterPevensie is now known as Peter|petrified.
Isildur: *is threatening Rosier with a dagger to his throat, by the way* REMOVE THAT.
Cosette: *it's a gift. blinks at everyone*
Isildur: *apologetic smile at Cosette* Greetings, lady. May I suggest you leave until I have dealt with this man?
Rosier: You sound so sexy when you're mad, Isildur. *torn between having a really good time and scared*
Isildur: You, on the other hand, are pathetic. /Take/ it away.
Cosette: *forgets her manners at the sight of daggers and snakes and Rosier. Oh my.*
Rosier: *sighs* *points the wand again* *stalling stalling*
Rosier: Serpent: *tasting the air near Peter's feet with its tongue*
Isildur: And don't even /think/ of hoodwinking me again. AWAY.
Peter|petrified: *O_O snake and -can't move-*
Cosette: *squeaks*
Rosier: *wand flick* Finite incantatum. *snake gone and Peter is free*
Isildur: *was just going to throw his wand and throttle Ev, but /this/ is better*
Isildur: *... dagger, not wand. WTF, typist.*
Peter|petrified: *yay, can move!*
*** Peter|petrified is now known as PeterP.
PeterP: *awkward grin at Cosette* H'lo.
Cosette: *so confused and slightly traumatised, as happens at least once a week*
Isildur: *still has the dagger at Ev's throat, then. Handy!*
Rosier: *very still* Aren't you going to release me?
Isildur: I don't think I can risk that, now can I?
Cosette: Hel-hello M. Peter.
Cosette: Are you...are you alright?
Rosier: Your choice. I'm quite comfortable for the moment. *leans back against Ildur*
PeterP: I'm -- er -- fine.
Isildur: *disgusted* How nice for you. *we're sorry, Ev, but will remove the blade from Ev's throat only to clobber him over the back of his head with the hilt* *does have experience with knocking people unconscious since that incident with the last fruit of Nimloth*
Cosette: *squeaks quite a bit at that*
Rosier: *knocked out*
*** You are now known as Rosier|unconcious.
Isildur: *lets him flop to the ground, then*
PeterP: ...*sigh of relief* Thank you.
Isildur: ... yes.
Isildur: *looks around for ropes or something of the sort*
Cosette: *just blinks at unconscious!Rosier*
Rosier|unconcious: *would leer just to make her uncomfortable but cannot*
Isildur: *will find some rope in the plothole and truss Rosier up securely*
Rosier|unconcious: *now trussed up AND unconcious*
Isildur: *ponders where to put him*
Rosier|unconcious: *in your bed?*
Isildur: *to Cosette* I must apologize, lady, but believe me, it was necessary.
Isildur: *you wish.*
Rosier|unconcious: *you can tie me up anytime, cutie*
Isildur: *thinks out loud, then* Now, where do I leave this...
Cosette: *and lives*
Isildur: *drags Ev off, I suppose*
Cosette: Oh, oh, yes, I'm certain it was.
Rosier|unconcious: *yay! dragged*
Isildur: *nods apologetically* *and drags Ev off to his room in the mansion, for lack of a better idea*
Session Close (#desperatefans): Tue May 09 17:04:35 2006