(no subject)
Maladicta was not just up and about, but was in fact recovering again. She was turning a book over in her hands and debating whether or not to read it, in the rec room, because it was about dance. It was not a Disc book, it was something in Morpork- English, from Earth. She'd just finished a show in which she had had to dance, in public, and she couldn't decide how she felt about it, really. Some people really loved the stuff, dedicated their lives to it and were passionate about it. She had done it because it had been a novelty to her parents and their version of letting her go by 'Deirdre' and stay out till noon. Like most of their forays into atraditionalist thinking, it had failed, and the result had been just as unpleasant and kinky, really, as the underwired nightgowns and the Agate-doll hair and dresses and the bathing in the blood of virgins. Just one more stylish atrocity.
She'd felt so numb on stage, and she was used, after two productions with Geoffrey, to feeling very much alive. Singing made her feel alive. Not undead or unalive, but alive. So what about dancing made her... disconnect?
She glanced over at the young man next to her who was also rifling through the covers, and then glanced again.
"Didn't we arrest you for something?"
He paused, and looked slowly over at her with somewhat round eyes.
"Yes," he said, after a moment, "I'm afraid some months ago you did."
"You hit someone in the face with a pool cue," Maladicta observed.
"Technically, that was an accident," he said, wincing and glancing off. She canted an eyebrow at him.
"You accidentally hit someone in the face with a pool cue."
"Well, I was aiming for the bookshelf," he explained, looking abashed. Maladicta took a moment before she looked to the bookshelf, and then back to him.
"You've got bad aim." There was the rustle of a newspaper and one of the council members, Ziegler, Maladicta thought, looked between the two of them with raised eyebrows, mouth a line.
"...That's against the law, now. Or shortly it will be. Hitting people with pool cues."
"What, specifically?" Maladicta asked. "Can you hit them with the plastic triangle?"
"It really was an accident," the young man said.
"Hitting people with things in general," Toby said flatly. One of Muffin's brood hopped up onto the sofa beside him and Maladicta winced slightly, withdrawing. Toby glanced down, then up again.
"You can't hit people with cats, either. Or hit cats."
The straw haired youth at the bookshelf looked somewhere between nonplussed and dubious.
[Maladicta Ep, with guests! Tag Mala, Toby, or Barty! Yaaaaay!]
She'd felt so numb on stage, and she was used, after two productions with Geoffrey, to feeling very much alive. Singing made her feel alive. Not undead or unalive, but alive. So what about dancing made her... disconnect?
She glanced over at the young man next to her who was also rifling through the covers, and then glanced again.
"Didn't we arrest you for something?"
He paused, and looked slowly over at her with somewhat round eyes.
"Yes," he said, after a moment, "I'm afraid some months ago you did."
"You hit someone in the face with a pool cue," Maladicta observed.
"Technically, that was an accident," he said, wincing and glancing off. She canted an eyebrow at him.
"You accidentally hit someone in the face with a pool cue."
"Well, I was aiming for the bookshelf," he explained, looking abashed. Maladicta took a moment before she looked to the bookshelf, and then back to him.
"You've got bad aim." There was the rustle of a newspaper and one of the council members, Ziegler, Maladicta thought, looked between the two of them with raised eyebrows, mouth a line.
"...That's against the law, now. Or shortly it will be. Hitting people with pool cues."
"What, specifically?" Maladicta asked. "Can you hit them with the plastic triangle?"
"It really was an accident," the young man said.
"Hitting people with things in general," Toby said flatly. One of Muffin's brood hopped up onto the sofa beside him and Maladicta winced slightly, withdrawing. Toby glanced down, then up again.
"You can't hit people with cats, either. Or hit cats."
The straw haired youth at the bookshelf looked somewhere between nonplussed and dubious.
[Maladicta Ep, with guests! Tag Mala, Toby, or Barty! Yaaaaay!]