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trans_92010-07-23 01:05 pm
godimgood.livejournal.com) wrote in trans_92010-07-23 01:05 pm
Entry tags:
fong - verb; to fong, the act of... [OPEN]
Chaucer had a perhaps excusable fondness for taverns. He'd certainly spent enough time in them to either loathe the places or love them, and Geoffrey rarely found it within himself to loathe anything that was willing to provide him with food and company.
And a tavern, unlike so many things on this strange journey, echoed vaguely of home. He'd even found some dice somewhere.
Rattling them idly in one hand, an itch he wasn't quite allowed to scratch, the writer and herald sat neatly cross-legged on a table, chin in hand, elbow on knee, kilt neatly smoothed around him to avoid unwanted eyefuls. His dice-filled hand moved, clacking and jangling, as he finished up a story to whatever audience would listen.
It was a story of chivalry, of passion, of dedication, a slice of stupidity, and an overpowering need for a full stomach and well-delivered fonging. It was the story of Wat.
Delivered in fond mockery, it ended thus; "Not every wise man can expect to be a good man, and few good men can expect to be wise. The ones, however, who can grasp at life with both hands, breath deeply of it, and declare that it could use more salt are something to be marveled upon. Perhaps not revered or praised, but certainly watched very carefully."
And a tavern, unlike so many things on this strange journey, echoed vaguely of home. He'd even found some dice somewhere.
Rattling them idly in one hand, an itch he wasn't quite allowed to scratch, the writer and herald sat neatly cross-legged on a table, chin in hand, elbow on knee, kilt neatly smoothed around him to avoid unwanted eyefuls. His dice-filled hand moved, clacking and jangling, as he finished up a story to whatever audience would listen.
It was a story of chivalry, of passion, of dedication, a slice of stupidity, and an overpowering need for a full stomach and well-delivered fonging. It was the story of Wat.
Delivered in fond mockery, it ended thus; "Not every wise man can expect to be a good man, and few good men can expect to be wise. The ones, however, who can grasp at life with both hands, breath deeply of it, and declare that it could use more salt are something to be marveled upon. Perhaps not revered or praised, but certainly watched very carefully."
no subject
"And, in case it wasn't mentioned before, if you want alcohol, you can have it. We don't ask age here, and you look old enough."
meep, sorry, RL ate my brinz.
"Wait. You mean... Actual, real, you're not faking me out to keep me from pitching a fit alcohol?" She gapes at him for a moment, and then laughs. "Wow. I'm really not in Kansas anymore."
Interestingly (and apropos of nothing), Tay has never actually seen The Wizard of Oz, but she's heard the phrase used often enough to know the context.
She considers her options for a moment before shaking her head regretfully. "Maybe another night. I've got training with the Rogues in the morning, and I'm still trying to make a good impression. Don't want to come in hung over or anything." When angels drink, where she's from, the really put some effort into it.
Is fine <3
He blinked, "You sure? One or two won't hurt."