( 04 ) ( video + action. )

[feigns]

[ when the feed clicks on, it's evident that will is sat somewhere without an abundance of light — there are lamps, though — but with a number of books. (in other words: the library). there's a small pile just in front of him, and he can be seen to be leafing through a paperback of some description. the titles of the books that are visible would imply he has something of a soft spot for what can only be described as objectively trash.

that aside, he at least looks comfortable, if not in deliberate disregard of any form of etiquette — his feet, still booted, are resting on the table. ]

There once was a young man from Aberpennar
Who found himself embroiled in quite the dilemma— [ a beat and a flicker of a frown; aberpennar and dilemma don't rhyme, not really. NEVERMIND it's not important. ]
You see, he was quite typical in many respects
and desired to—

[ he stops for a moment, mild (feigned) surprise giving way to equally feigned thoughtfulness. ]

Perhaps I ought not finish, not when there's all manner of polite company and children within hearing — or more accurately, I suppose, listening — distance. There are, that said, a great many things I desire to do today, although it seems as if a great many people would also like to do a great many things today, some not activities they'd normally indulge in. I'm afraid to say that I feel absolutely nothing out of the ordinary; I wonder, then, if I've been cursed at all, or if I've merely been blessed with a startling intense dislike of being utterly, wholly bone idle — or whatever one would say when they detest activities with the sole purpose of being dull and uninteresting.

—Maybe I'll visit the park, feed the pigeons and the ducks and, in a fit of nostalgia, see if the birds here behave any differently to the birds in London. I've always thought that the birds in London portrayed a disturbingly accurate mirror image of the people in London: miserable, and prone to unprovoked acts of violence and inflammatory remarks. Maybe the birds here will simply be unbearably nosy.

Comments

[signatures]

What a shame, I wanted to hear the rest of that verse.

[feigns]

Perhaps I'll write you a sonnet and deliver it in the post, as you've commented so nicely.

[signatures]

I would greatly enjoy it.

You could make a killing by turning it for profit.

[feigns]

And kill my artistic integrity whilst I'm at it; I can think of nothing better.

[signatures]

You could be a real poet yet.

[feigns]

I'm sure I could manage the disdain for everything that doesn't fit into my view of the world without much problem.

[signatures]

We'll get you started with a few moleskin journals.

[feigns]

And a proper pen, I hope, not one of those — ballpoints. [ because seriously, what are they. ]

[signatures]

I can probably procure for you a quill and ink pot as far as I'm concerned.

[feigns]

Then I suppose I'll have to adopt a pub bench as my own, and a stack of paper.

[signatures]

And an alcohol problem.

[feigns]

I suspect that would come with the aforementioned bench.

[signatures]

Not always. A regular fondness and an addiction are two different things, after all.

[feigns]

I was working on the assumption I'd spend most of my time sat at the bench, solidly working my way through pints, the occasional gin, and paper.

[signatures]

Well, in that case, carry on.

[feigns]

It'll be my pleasure.

[ and eames, you will be getting a sonnet of extremely questionable quality through your letterbox whenever will discovers where you live. ]

[signatures]

[ HIS HEART WILL BE AFLUTTER SIR HERONDALE WHEN THAT TIME COMES DON'T YOU WORRY ]