III. Reckoner.

[maleficentia]

Velvet Amandine Lyon. I know you're lurking around these journals, somewhere, so don't lets continue with the charade. If any of her friends and associates feel inclined to turn her in, well, let's have it, and promptly.

Have you finally summoned up a spine and published that piece you showed me at the end of our semester together?

Comments

[fathergander]

Let me guess: a long, roving poem detailing the dark hopelessness of live and the pain of eternal solitude?

[scheherazading]

What?

[fathergander]

Seems to be the usual high school fare from the 'quiet ones'.

[scheherazading]

I outgrew it rather quickly.

[thatrapscallion]

Hey, if she doesn't want to publish it, then she doesn't have to! I'm sure she has a perfectly good reason for holding onto it! But when she does decide to publish it - which she is free to do at her leisure - it is going to be a resounding success!

[maleficentia]

I never said it wouldn't be. As for 'holding onto it,' well: if you're content to let her rest meekly on her laurels, be my guest. I'll not be joining you.

[thatrapscallion]

What's a laurel?

Good! We don't need your company anyways. We're fine, just the two of us.

[maleficentia]

You two are an item? Oh do forgive; I didn't realize.