[δεκαπέντε]
[ audio post ]
[ for a few seconds, there is a clop-clop noise, before a growl of frustration. ]
This is starting to get very tired very quickly. Most importantly, this isn't my lot in life. I'm the practiced beguiler. Never the straight man. Such a thing is clearly and emphatically not the way of any sane universe.
[ more rustling and bright, earthy clops. ]
And now I'm lost in this stupid garden. I don't want to wake up naked in foliage and not remember how I got there unless I'm on more drugs than Keith Richards for the entire year of 1972, you arrogant, puffed-up want-to-be-worshipeds with a little bit of magic and a lot of nerve.
Typical. The irony is not beyond me, but it is also not appreciated.
[ooc: cursed into a woodland animal, of course. action for anyone in xanadu.]
