WHO: Damian Saint Lorrant & Various WHERE: Various WHEN: After trooping home from the delights of CnC2020. WHAT: A place to store some threads for Feb! WARNINGS: There is definitely gonna be some character injury/blood/gore/whatever.
[ Yeah, smothering his laugh in his drink doesn't really make it better, thanks. His smile looks very slightly strained. ]
I'm really not a space-man, interstellar travel is awful. I really prefer to be planet-side. [ It's a nice reminder, though, that almost everyone here is a backwards caveman. He sips daintily at his own drink. If he'd poisoned Rupert's, it would probably be kicking in right about now ... what a shame. ] There wasn't much need for French where I went, either. It was all Standard and Italian.
Don't you dare undersell yourself, [ Hentzau says warningly, extending an arch finger Damian's way with his best attempt at a grave expression (spoiled as it is by the irrepressibly boyish smile). ] You're terribly exotic, you know. An actual space man! I'm surprised you don't have four eyes, or something. A tail, maybe. Don't people have tails in space?
[ His mouth presses into a line of wry attempted-amusement. It falls a little flat, more strained than his last attempted smile. How does Rupert keep hitting on the most irritating points? And he doesn't even know the truth of this one, is the worst part. ]
Come on, why would they? You don't just change species when you go into space.
[ Nope, you can do that where ever you are! It's great, thanks for asking. ]
[ What's a species? Hentzau isn't well acquainted with science as a concept. He shrugs, gesturing vaguely upwards with his hands in a possible reference either to space or maybe just the ceiling. ]
How should I know what happens amid the stars? [ It's probably very exciting. Or so Hentzau clearly hopes, judging by the delight in his grin. ] There was a Swear-In on the moon, were you hear for it? I should like to go further, I think. Search out some new adventure in the stars...
[ Okay, that came out way too flat. Just -- a werewolf on the moon, come on. It's like a bad joke. He takes a breath and renews the lease on his smile, pumping some more convincing life into it. ]
No -- I missed that. But I think you're in the wrong century for any space travel worth having. It took lifetimes to get anywhere with this level of technology. [ Probably not what Rupert wanted to hear. He offers a shrug. ] Figure out how to open a portal back to my world, and we'll see where we can get you.
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I'm really not a space-man, interstellar travel is awful. I really prefer to be planet-side. [ It's a nice reminder, though, that almost everyone here is a backwards caveman. He sips daintily at his own drink. If he'd poisoned Rupert's, it would probably be kicking in right about now ... what a shame. ] There wasn't much need for French where I went, either. It was all Standard and Italian.
no subject
no subject
Come on, why would they? You don't just change species when you go into space.
[ Nope, you can do that where ever you are! It's great, thanks for asking. ]
no subject
How should I know what happens amid the stars? [ It's probably very exciting. Or so Hentzau clearly hopes, judging by the delight in his grin. ] There was a Swear-In on the moon, were you hear for it? I should like to go further, I think. Search out some new adventure in the stars...
no subject
[ Okay, that came out way too flat. Just -- a werewolf on the moon, come on. It's like a bad joke. He takes a breath and renews the lease on his smile, pumping some more convincing life into it. ]
No -- I missed that. But I think you're in the wrong century for any space travel worth having. It took lifetimes to get anywhere with this level of technology. [ Probably not what Rupert wanted to hear. He offers a shrug. ] Figure out how to open a portal back to my world, and we'll see where we can get you.