♣ 006 || Action or Voice - dead on his feet

[haring_to_go]

[ he stumbles, bumping into some unlikely passerby in a fit of near drowsiness.

fjkls, he blinks himself awake and bows! ] My apologies! It won't happen again. [ he bobs upright, finding himself face to face with an irate woman, coffee stains all over her neatly pressed white blouse. ]

You cretin! I'll make sure you never do that again!

[ flinching, Liam felt scalding hot coffee poured over his head, staining his clothes. But, it's with trembling fingers as he watches the woman stalk off that he goes to wipe a coffee dribble off his cheek only to find that it's turned to sand the minute he's touched it.

Such is Liam's rather perplexing fate. He is bereaved of both coffee and tea and thus, severely caffeine deprived. It's amazing he's able to stand on his feet at all, really. At least the headaches aren't quite so bad anymore. Still...

He pulls out his phone and starts speaking into it, wiping his face clean with a handkerchief. ]

I could use some advice, if you may. What is your preferred drink? I'm afraid tea and coffee are out of the question as I appear to be having a slight problem with it turning into sand.

[ and he's getting desperate. Help a poor man out, Poly! ]

((ooc: no Liam's were harmed in the making of this post and red text is a random npc!))

Comments

[a_parting_word]

...I'd tell you to try for hot chocolate, but I'm afraid it wouldn't survive Break.

[haring_to_go]

Xerxes may take pity on me. I'm useless right now. [ he sounds so, so tired. And his mental abilities are severely compromised if he thinks one Xerxes Break could take pity on him! ]

1/2

[a_parting_word]

[ ...ah. ]

[a_parting_word]

Let me boil you some wine with cinnamon.

[haring_to_go]

You would?

That's... you don't have to go out of your way. [ he's almost crying. How can he handle this largesse! ]

[a_parting_word]

What sort of way can a man have that means he can't touch a bottle and a pot?

[haring_to_go]

A... pot?

[ he's slow on the uptake and now has thoughts of the admittedly, slightly neglected chamber pot. ]

[a_parting_word]

...you've... never walked the kitchens, have you. For a servant, isn't that a life of privilege?

[haring_to_go]

I've... been in a kitchen. [ he's had to run errands for Barma to the cooks on more then one occassion. He was almost as deathly afraid of well timed ladle strikes as he was of Barma's ire! ]

[a_parting_word]

It's true, then. You're as if part of an elite class of servants... servant nobility... the servant prince?

[haring_to_go]

[ he blinks ] I am the son of an Earl. [ said with (a small) measure of pride! ] I am no more a prince then anyone else.

You could have the same status yourself, if you wished. [ oh scion of the Nightray house, their pride and joy! ]

[knaveswitness]

[blank... stare...

Okay it loses some of the effect when you know the other party can't ACTUALLY SEE YOU but work with him here.]

[haring_to_go]

[ Nope.jpg, he's incapable of computing why there's a distinct lack of voice on the other end. He can ramble, however. ]

No one?

[ he stops to listen ]

Not even one suggestion? [ another silent pause, it's positively pregnant with unspoken things ]



... I miss my tea.

[knaveswitness]

Long will it be mourned.

[He sounds quite solemn.]

[haring_to_go]

[ he won't burst into tears. He won't. At least Xerxes understands his woe. So few others do! ]

I'm afraid you'll have to make your own from here on out. I'm cursed.

[voice]

[closetpervert]

Preference in drink? Hmm... Let's see. Coffee or sake is my preferred drink. Still, this sand incident has become quite cumbersome. Some days have been a reoccurring game of hit or miss.

[voice]

[haring_to_go]

Sake? [ he hasn't had the privilege of tasting that ] What is that? This sand has gotten into more things then I would like. [ everywhere! Even his notes. ]

[voice]

[closetpervert]

Ah, sake? It is an alcoholic beverage made from fermenting rice rather than fruits such as in wine. However, the process is fairly similar in that the longer one ferments the richer the taste.

Indeed. What to do for certain. [He totally understands what you mean! Those damn sands in their precious notes!]

[voice]

[haring_to_go]

[ the most disappointed is Liam ] Ah... then I best avoid it then. My problem isn't sleeping, it's waking. But your suggestion is welcomed. I'll have to dig into the process, once this sand clears up.

[ he lowers his voice, staying quiet as can be ] You haven't had any problems with your notes or books, have you? [ with his tea running rampant in sand, he's just waiting for the day his only other solace turns to dust. Namely, his hard earned research! ]

[voice]

[closetpervert]

What, you're not getting a good nights rest?

[He gave a sad sigh to that one.]

Ah... unfortunately some had begun. However only the ones with the least importance. My research notes have been spared for the moment.

[voice]

[haring_to_go]

[ he's concerned, very concerned. ] maybe if we put it in an air tight container... [ no sand can get in and no sand can get out. ]

Oh, no. I've never really had a good night's sleep, but at least after a few hours I felt rested. [ He's usually far too on edge worrying about Barma popping up at any time of the night to really sleep for all that long. It's not worth the nerves! ]

[voice]

[closetpervert]

Air tight container? Hmm, now that's a thought to consider.

Oh? Why is that? I've had my share of long nights, however, those have always been on my terms. Something bothering you?

[voice]

[haring_to_go]

[ theoretically, they could just push the sand back together and have it reform words, can't the? ]

It's a matter of work. My... boss [ that was the right term, wasn't it? ] doesn't take kindly to slacking.

[voice]

[closetpervert]

Ah, I see. What is it you're working on now?

[voice]

[haring_to_go]

A treatise on the common snail. [ don't judge him. He has weird taste. ]