Comments | rowan_academy: Week.... ah, whatever... sometime in March

mopple in rowan_academy

Week.... ah, whatever... sometime in March

Jan 31, 2005 13:54

Hob, hands in pockets, wanders across the campus in the middle of the night. The skunk pooka whistles and sings his way aimlessly, not really seeming to have a destination. Every now and then, he cranes his head back to watch the half visible stars, and he smiles.

"Lydia, oh, Lydia,
Say, have you met Lydia,
Lydia the Tatooed lady..."Ever now ( Read more... )

Comments 19

longshadow16 February 2 2005, 08:57:44 UTC

In the branches above, a most curious nightbird repeats the Pooka's tune, its voice clear and unwavering. The song ends with a rustle as long fingers part the bushes. A pale face appears a moment later, grinning, dark hair fallen over one of its eyes.

"Bonjour, monsieur. Do you find the night as delicious as I do?"

mopple February 2 2005, 09:19:28 UTC

Hob stands there, perched on one foot like a demented crane, grinning. "The day has its eyes. The night has its ears." He skips along two or three more steps to stop below the treeclimber.

"Il faut noter, que les jeux d'enfants ne sont pas jeux; et les faut juger en eux, comme leurs plus serieuses actions."* He advises in sagely tones that are incongruent with his innocent looks and mannerisms.

((trans.: 'It should be noted that children at play are not playing about; their games should be seen as their most serious-minded activity.))

longshadow16 February 2 2005, 13:00:20 UTC

"Oui, Monsieur. Vous savez beaucoup. I, unfortunately," Longshadow drawls, "am ignorant to the amusements this campus can provide after dark. Could you make a recommendation? Should you not be too busy, of course, with your serious actions."

((OOC: I speak French passably. Oui, mon stylo est grand et rouge... In case you're unsure, L said, "Yes, sir. You know much."))

mopple February 2 2005, 21:43:00 UTC

The pooka makes a show of thinking hard, the tip of his tongue showing between his lips.

"Well, I can do you blood and love without the rhetoric, and I can do you blood and rhetoric without the love, and I can do you all three concurrent or consecutive, but I can't do you love and rhetoric without the blood." Hob quotes the lines more as if he were a waiter offers todays specials.

"Wer liebst nicht Wein, Weib und Gesange,der bleibt ein Narsein alle Leben lange," he adds in a confindential voice.

Thread 19