( *Despatches a letter to Irmo.* )

*Makes his way to the consulate, feeling more than little depressed about his wife's current mental state.*

*Smokes like a chimney as he does so.*

I should probably cut down...ach, I'm not smoking too heavily yet, I'm only going through about two lighters a day.

EDIT: *Despatches a messenger to the Fort with a letter for his wife*

Banâth ( Read more... )

*Buys his wife a bunch of flowers, a silver cloak-clasp of Feanorian design and a box of expensive chocolates for being so awesome, not-blonde, for understanding politics, for not wearing clothes that look like a couple of hankerchiefs attatched to a length of string and for not wanting little rat-like canines as pets.*

*Shudder*

( Letter #1 )

*paces around his office in the consulate, running over all the things that need to be done*

Anaire's case, finding out what happened to Pharazon's tomb, punish the perpetrators, the usual consulate and fort business on top of that...*Might possibly be starting to appreciate why Pharazon took such a fast and loose approach to organising his time ( Read more... )

*Sits behind his desk, his hands steepled, listening calmly and quietly as a lackey explains just how someone managed to break into Pharazon's crypt and steal the body ( Read more... )

Right. Atto, we need to choose a tutor for the boy. Which applicants out of the ones you didn't scare off >_< would you go for? CHOOSE, which ones would you choose, don't answer the first phrasing.

*claps his hands*

Right. Family meeting. We have things to discuss. You can come. Just don't make any smart-assed remarks about theology. I don't want to hear it.

*Comes back from the Consulate further convinced that elves are a melodramatic, undignifed lot.

*snorts* Oh look at us, we're wise, we're calm, we marry for all eternity because we know all about twue wuv, we never get divorced, we're perfect and happy with our flouncy clothes and our pointy ears.

*pours himself a whiskey* Ha.

*Gets up and deals with the post-binge dehydration problem.*

*Regains a hazy memory of flattening his brother.*

*ponders* I probably shouldn't have done that...but ach, what the hell, it made me feel better. He shouldn't have been so tactless.