.011 [Written]

[preachyrose]

One day the fox succeeded in catching a fine fat goose asleep by the side of a loch; he held her by the wing, and making a joke of her cackling, hissing, and fears, he said

Comments

Oh Miss Rose. You pushed the wrong Marquis button :|

[impure_tale]

...Mademoiselle, are you not also devoutly religious?

This...is what she does.

[preachyrose]

Oh, I suppose you can say that I am.

[impure_tale]

It is not that I'm not fond of a woman who can fight her own battles, my flower, but this particular maneuver might have come off a little less hypocritical if you had left it at the end of the fable and not resorted to preaching afterward.

[preachyrose]

Preaching? How apt a term. And yet it does not fit particularly well here. I will admit that even those of my, well, you can call it a religion, are in danger of doing the same thing.

We are all held to the same standards, of course.

A simple...friendly reminder that even those who seem perfect often hold secrets and deceptions.

[impure_tale]

Which is not the sort of warning that should be given, by an Inmate who has yet been mostly quiet and made no trouble.

[preachyrose]

Ah, but there is new knowledge discovered.

I consider it my duty.

[impure_tale]

You've more of an obligation to learn here than to teach, cheri.

[preachyrose]

Oh, but I have learned. And I continue to learn.

I have no qualms with following the protocol here, as you have seen.