"You know, the last time I heard about a duel it was with swords," he says, eyeing the mudpit curiously. He shakes his head to clear it. "Food and wine, yes. I hate the winter."
Stephen shrugged. "One does what one must," he said, echoing his own earlier words. "You will find yourself encumbered when you enter the mud, since you have insisted on wearing your normal attire." Stephen himself was now clad in the Hogwarts regulation-dueling outfit of leather trousers.
Chance arrives somewhat cross and out of breath. She's followed the owl to Maturin's office, since that was where the owl had departed from, and then she had to be told by Aloysius where the doctors have gone and how she can get there.
When she sees the two combatants-to-be, her eyes widen. "What the --" There really aren't words for it. And surely Maturin isn't wearing ... yes, he is.
Note to self. Life-affirming responses? Not broken. Definitely working.
Jadzia was walking around the castle (watching out for moving staircases), only to stumble upon...a giant mudpit?
"That's just not sanitary." The trill knew the makings of a duel/match/[insert your culture’s way of defending honor here] when she saw one, and was intrigued.
"Well, traditionally duels are fought to 'defend a lady's honor, so to speak. That's fairly constant across all cultures. And if I'm not mistaken, Dr. Maturin married Dr. Tam's sister quite recently!"
"Huh." He squinted a little. "You know, if I tried to do somethin' like this for Frannie? She'd probably chuck me out of the pit and dive in herself." He scratches his jaw.
Cold as it was, Susan had opted to abandon her books for a while and take a walk about the grounds. Out of sheer habit she was armed with the poker (though was currently using it as a walking stick), and was paying so little attention to her surroundings that she almost literally stumbled over the imminent duel.
She stopped mid-step, for once in her life almost utterly floored at what met her eyes. Stephen and Dr. Tam, whom she recognized but had never spoken to, in leather trousers, with a small group of onlookers (several of whom looked as confused as she felt), standing beside a bloody mud-pit.
"'Yet' being the operative word," Susan said, shaking her head. "Did one of them lose a bet? Or is this some bizarre Earth ritual I haven't heard of yet?"
Unlike the other visitors, Cox absolutely knew the rules. He was late because he'd felt the need to grab some supplies on the way down. In his arms he was carrying a bottle of Firewhisky, another of scotch (naturally), a packet of Jello (for Stephen). He was wearing jeans, but along with the booze he also carried his very own pair of leather pants, recently cleaned -- obviously, they had to be passed on to the next challenger!
It was a little weird seeing the mudpit again; he had supposedly been there recently, but he was damned if he could remember anything about that beyond a vague, horrifying blur. But, hey, he was in a great mood these days, Doc Maturin was involved, and someone else was getting humiliated for once. How could this not be fun?
"Hey, Doc," he called out cheerfully as he approached, grabbing himself a seat by the pit. He glanced around. "Where's the Jackass of the Day?"
Relieved by Cox's arrival, Stephen grinned. "Dr Perry Cox, please meet my brother-in-law and opponent, Dr Simon Tam. Dr Tam, this is Dr Cox, veteran duelist and presently my second. I see you have come well-prepared," he added, an approving eye on the Firewhisky and Jello.
"Oh." Cox glanced at Simon and raised his eyebrows, grinning curiously. "Do~~ctor Stick-up-the-ass, right? Surprised to see you here. What, you don't remember me?" They had, in fact, met at his Sorting which his mun will track down later, but then memory loss seemed to be prevalent at this school. "Popcorn?" he guessed, setting his supplies down. "I~ see I'm not the only one who came prepared," he added, nodding to the man's leather pants, looking a little disappointed.
Joscelin having been woefully neglected by his mun was enjoying a refreshing stroll around the grounds. He recognized Dr. Maturin, though the other man was unfamiliar. "Dr. Maturin." He simply nodded to the other man in greeting. "Isn't it too cold for mud at this time of year?"
Tyrion usually avoided going outside when it was cold, but today he'd made an exception and had been out for a little stroll when he noticed the mud pit. After a bit of careful observation, he realized he was about to watch a duel between Dr. Maturin and... wasn't the other fellow the doctor's new brother-in-law?
Smirking, he joined the milling throng, ending up standing near Joscelin, whom he didn't recognize.
"It's a bit too cold for a duel," he interjected, "And a good bit too late, I should think."
"A duel." That explained... very little, really. Joscelin had fought several people in single combat before, and usually if conditions were right for mud it was formed after, due to movement mixing the dirt and water. "I don't believe we've met. Joscelin Verreuil." He bowed to the dwarf (an unusual sight in Terre d'Ange, but less so elsewhere.)
"Tyrion Lannister." He returned the bow, wondering if this man was from a culture similar to his own. "I admit to some curiosity about what purpose this will serve. I'd not thought Dr. Maturin went in for such theatrics."
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When she sees the two combatants-to-be, her eyes widen. "What the --" There really aren't words for it. And surely Maturin isn't wearing ... yes, he is.
Note to self. Life-affirming responses? Not broken. Definitely working.
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"That's just not sanitary." The trill knew the makings of a duel/match/[insert your culture’s way of defending honor here] when she saw one, and was intrigued.
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She stopped mid-step, for once in her life almost utterly floored at what met her eyes. Stephen and Dr. Tam, whom she recognized but had never spoken to, in leather trousers, with a small group of onlookers (several of whom looked as confused as she felt), standing beside a bloody mud-pit.
"Do...do I even want to ask?" she said.
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It was a little weird seeing the mudpit again; he had supposedly been there recently, but he was damned if he could remember anything about that beyond a vague, horrifying blur. But, hey, he was in a great mood these days, Doc Maturin was involved, and someone else was getting humiliated for once. How could this not be fun?
"Hey, Doc," he called out cheerfully as he approached, grabbing himself a seat by the pit. He glanced around. "Where's the Jackass of the Day?"
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Smirking, he joined the milling throng, ending up standing near Joscelin, whom he didn't recognize.
"It's a bit too cold for a duel," he interjected, "And a good bit too late, I should think."
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