Attn: Curio

[heartofbirds]

As Molly suggested to Linden that he talk to Curio, in a general way, and as Linden is trying to preserve his cover of being a normal person without issues, a letter will soon go out addressed to the aforementioned Curio

Comments

[hunt_theheart]

*Curio's response is written in a clear and flourishing hand, an affirmative that takes three dozen words to say--and when he arrives, he is grinning, with his hands in the pocket of a silver spacer jacket worn over knee breeches and a Hawai'ian shirt* Good morrow, sir! The hour thou namest is nigh!

[heartofbirds]

Linden is standing beside a table set with a delicate cloth and beautiful china, thin crystal glasses for the appropriate alcohol, which is out upon the table in a green glass bottle with an intricately detailed lable. He himself is dressed simply but elegantly in his own style: waistcoat and jacket, knee breeches, with his hair braided and tied back, and his cane in hand. He bows to Curio. "Indeed it is."

[hunt_theheart]

*a bow, as well* My name is Curio--as thou hast guessed. *laughs* Thy table is so fine a piece of art that I dare not disturb its careful plot; I am no critic to demean thy work in protest that it follows thy design!

[heartofbirds]

"It's kind of you to say so, but I think we may set about disturbing it momentarily. The food is almost done."

[hunt_theheart]

Didst cook thyself? 'Tis passing fine, to cook!

[heartofbirds]

"I have been troubling myself to learn lately, yes," with a very slight smile. "It seemed a useful skill."

[hunt_theheart]

*sheepish* I once did think it woman's work, to cook, but I am learning now that it is man's--an man would not be changed to woman's form.

[heartofbirds]

"That does seem rather drastic."

[hunt_theheart]

*grin* What didst thou make? Thus far, I cook but meat, and sometimes stew--though it is mostly meat.

[heartofbirds]

"Carmelised salmon and sauteed spring onions over lettuces. One moment; it will be finished now." He moves towards the stove; presumably he commandeered the kitchen for this venture.

[hunt_theheart]

*impressed* Thou seem'st fair fit to feed a noble's court!

[heartofbirds]

By the stove, Linden laughs. "I think that, perhaps, is too great praise." The china bowls on the table already have the lettuces in them, and he takes the large copper saucepan off the burner and spoons its contents carefully over said lettuces.

[hunt_theheart]

*watches, fascinated* Thou knowest not what foods our nobles ate in far Illyria; this is a feast! *laughs* In miniature, mayhap, but quality doth give the fall to size in every bout.

[heartofbirds]

"What, by the Light, must you have eaten in Illyria?" and then, "Please sit."

[hunt_theheart]

Good meals--mayhap I overtell this tale to better praise thy genius in this art. *laughs, and sits*

[heartofbirds]

"Ah, now I understand: you exaggerate. I have met such men before," pleasantly, as he sits across the table from Curio.