Jan 20, 2007 20:18
miniver cheevy, maeve, rial pernon, paul (rent), michael guerin, carlotta brown
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He tilts his head on one side.
And a little farther.
And a little farther, to the point where he's basically sideways, eyes wide.
"Um."
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"Um," he replies. "You're somewhat sideways. It goes the other way."
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Rial goes upright again.
"I - suppose I might regret asking what it is?"
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:D?
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Deep breath.
"What is it?"
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Miniver says this with PERFECT seriousness.
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"Call me a critic, but the chicken would have to be somewhat large. Or it just wouldn't work."
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He leans over and plucks the saltshaker out of Rial's hands. "Your country owes you a debt of gratitude for your valiant service this evening."
He replaces the missing... piece... and steps back to consider his sculpture with an artist's eye.
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"It's - lovely. Really. Very nice."
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He digs a flask out of his back pocket and takes a swig, then offers it to Rial.
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He grins though, at that. "Diplomatic training. Never insult or put down the people you're talking too, just in case they shoot you."
Looking around, "Or impale you with a saltshaker."
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He takes another drink, winces, and puts the flask away. "M' name's Miniver. New York 1967. You?"
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He offers his hand. "Count Rial Pernon, of Eiattu."
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Obviously someone who has never actually seen any manner of royalty or nobility anywhere outside books.
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Rial's just glad they haven't had the coronation yet, or he'd have to introduce himself as Emperor.
"It's just Rial, really."
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