( fourth wall. )

[feigns]

The more the merrier, isn't that what they say? Although I've no intention on begging for company — it feels akin to placing a small postcard in my doorway announcing that I provide French lessons, or that I have a large chest for sale. [ a beat. ] If I wished to be discreet about it, of course.

( ooc: anywhere, anything. i am not even remotely fussed. )

Comments

[shall_yield_us]

You provide French lessons?

[feigns]

Would you believe me if I were to say that I tend to be quite picky as to students?

[shall_yield_us]

Fussiness and you in wedlock? Oh, no, I'd never.

[feigns]

Sarcasm is quite unbecoming.

[shall_yield_us]

Then you'd best not practice it, hmmm?

[feigns]

I've had a great deal of practice with being unbecoming; sarcasm is the least of my worries.

[shall_yield_us]

But French and a large chest are not. I suppose I could-should-would take the little wood box, ah, yes.

1/2

[feigns]

But for the fact that I do not teach French — though I could, both literally and metaphorically should my heart and mind desire it — and I do not own a large chest to sell.

[feigns]

Though I dare say you know precisely to what I'm referring, which begs the question: what makes you think I'd be selling the little box as well?

[shall_yield_us]

...now, that would be telling.

But since we're telling, shall we tell a price?

[feigns]

There hardly seems any point, all considered.

[shall_yield_us]

Don't play coy, you know what you want. All young human boys think they do.

[feigns]

Human. [ quirk of amusement. ] And you're right: I do know what I want, as well as what I do not, but it appears you missed it. [ a pause. ] Or perhaps you chose to ignore it in favour of your own wants.

[shall_yield_us]

Yes, even the darkest cockle of my black little heart emits such a blinding passion for your wooden box, I can't well see beyond my wants.

[feigns]

It has been known.

[shall_yield_us]

You are not Pandora, your box is not that alluring.

[feigns]

[ a laugh. ] I should hope not.

[springseternal]

Where did you get that face?

[springseternal]

Excuse me.

It wasn't a box.

[shall_yield_us]

Then don't pretend it can blind me, it's in poor taste.

Now, your price? Talk of prostituting your dignity is so much more proper.

[shall_yield_us]

Was it wooden and rectangle shaped and did termites squeal prayers of keen worship to its perfection somewhere?

[feigns]

My parents, as far as I'm aware — for as much as it can be termed getting.

[springseternal]

No.

[springseternal]

You're very lucky.

[feigns]

I've never much cared for taste. If it's that you're after, you'd be better off holding this conversation with someone else.

Most would say, though, that my dignity can be bought with a mixture of flattery and good drinks. Good, naturally, being whatever one imagines it to be. Whether it's true or not — it would be improper for me to say.