I. Light is Spent.

[maleficentia]

As the French say, tais-toi. Collectively, if you please

Comments

[hatesbears]

Well, well, WELL. If you INSIST.

[hatesbears]

You can ride in the front seat with me ANY DAY, cuppycake.

[maleficentia]

It got me through Oxford.

You're a doll. With what are you busying yourself, these days? Besides the obvious intellectual discourse, I mean.

[hatesbears]

Pretentious cunt.

Stern business. Making Ansie want to cry. Making the rest tent themselves at night. You, sugarplum?

[maleficentia]

I prefer pretentious published cunt.

You are an inspiration; my business is a bit more dull, I'm afraid. Attempting to hammer the innate idiocy out of my students, working on a novel, and, as I told Pru, debauchery and naps. It's a living.

[hatesbears]

Read it, too.

How debauched on a scale of one to ten?

[maleficentia]

Aren't you kind.

Depends on how busy I am. That said, I think you can hazard an accurate guess.

[hatesbears]

My middle fucking name, babydoll.

Seven. Just above fucking harem, just below making Anser cry like a girl.

[maleficentia]

I thought it was--ah, but I suppose that's not information for delicate eyes.

Well, I'm content.

Sounds like Anser does a good deal of weeping.

[hatesbears]

Delicate.

[maleficentia]

As a peony. Jacob, that is.

[hatesbears]

Geranium. Better subtext.

[maleficentia]

Also-- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_geranium_diseases

I think you may be right.

[hatesbears]

Always fucking am, cuppycake.

Where the fuck are you?

[maleficentia]

My house. Will be until--oh, whenever it is I need to go crush the dreams of fifteen darling little aspiring writers. Feel like paying me a visit?

[hatesbears]

Got any real fucking food? Jailer's just got rabbit shit.