IC Contact - Exsilium

[maddeninghatter]

[ Thirty seconds of tuneless humming--beeeeeeeeep! ]

Comments

[maddeninghatter]

Ha! Ha! Ha! Why, you're right as always, Mister Reim. That is the kind of person he is.

[ He finishes the last of his tea, and then sets about destroying the styrofoam-ish cup, pulling it into tiny pieces and making a pile in front of him. ]

Hm, I suppose he is rather a man to be pitied.

[ Break manages to drop his voice into a tone that resembles something sympathetic. ]

He's spent his whole life pining for something he let slip through his fingers.

[tergiversant]

[It's not the statements, nor even the words dripping in false sympathy. He could easily picture Reim having to put up with such impropriety regularly.

It was the sudden prefix returning that was the last, and perhaps most powerful tell.

Not only does Reim disappear in a flurry of black feathers, but the table and opposing chair. .... And the cup Break had been shredding.

Barma speaks up from where he'd been seated some distance behind Break, practically draped in one of the chairs. His voice is a careful mask of disdain and boredom.]

It seems this hath become a truly boorish game.