IC CONTACT

[wizzardly]

VOICEMAIL:

"Er... yes, okay, I suppose I should tell you that if you're trying to reach me I'm not here, and if you're trying to reach me because you want to do something involving pointy bits of metal or otherwise painful objects, I'm never going to be here. So sorry."

Comments

[aggressiveapathy]

Oh my god, please.

[ She just got you to swear an oath without knowing what it was. Bro. ]

Do you want the deal or not?

[wizzardly]

...Yes.

[because of course he wants an 'out' for any hypothetical disasters.]

Agreed.

[aggressiveapathy]

Done. But I want fill reports.

[She offers her hand to shake.]

[wizzardly]

Verbal. And over drinks.

[but he'll take her hand for a firm shake.]

- And off-topic, but do you know Lord Baelish?

[aggressiveapathy]

No. But he sounds like a douche bag.

[ Anyone that goes by Lord, you know how it is. Just stupid. ]

Why?

[wizzardly]

Because he is, he's an absolute prat, and I'd like very much to perhaps do some mischief against him sometime.

...I understand you're something of an expert there.

[aggressiveapathy]

[April shifts to lean back in the pillows, clearly pleased by the turn in conversation.]

Go on.

[wizzardly]

I've no ideas yet. [a beat.] Well, I may have convinced a sort of priestess princess sort that he has a drug habit in need of "holy guidance", but that's about it.

I thought it would be good to point him out to you. Know your enemy, sort of thing.

[aggressiveapathy]

So what do you know? C'mon. Spill. This is a house war.

[wizzardly]

Oh it's nothing as serious as that. [reluctantly admitted.]

He's only a bastard Lord who thinks it fine to insult and poke at me because he thinks I'll put up with it. [and with anyone Rincewind saw as a threat - which is generally most everyone - he would. But Petyr has well and truly gotten under the wizard's skin, and he has no terrifying muscles or powers to cow him into non-action.

Not to mention that after this whole business with Lucifer, Rincewind is a little desperate for some sense of control - any control. Controlling how annoyed Petyr is seems a fine place to start. Downright therapeutic.]

He's also absolutely trying to flatter Chilton into - into something but I can't figure out what. Just rather slimy and unpleasant all around. Grand vizier sort, you know. Even if he isn't actually.

[aggressiveapathy]

God, he's only a slutty shrink. Why do people even-

[But it's a Baltimore thing, she guessed. Like Will attracting serial killers, Fred got egomaniacs. Maybe he'd had a threesome with this Lord and Raina already.]

So how bad do you want him to...rue. Things.

[wizzardly]

['Enough to make me feel better' isn't exactly quantifiable, so give him a minute here.]

On a scale of one to ten... let's say a four.

[it's probably best he be careful, considering he doesn't yet know how far April's scale goes; witches and vengeance sometimes pair a little too well.]

[aggressiveapathy]

Okay. So. Invite him over. We'll make something happen.

[ A something left very intentionally, clearly vague. ]

[wizzardly]

...Right, okay, I was thinking something less ominous. Also possibly not immediately traceable back to me. In case.

[aggressiveapathy]

...I don't get it.

[ Seriously. She is just leaning back on the bed, looking at him in confusion. ]

How is it fun to mess with someone if they don't know it's you?

[wizzardly]

That's the most fun because then they can't retaliate against you.

[patiently.]

[aggressiveapathy]

But then you can't, like, rub it in their face.

[ And don't get the fun of trying to stop them from getting revenge. Or getting re-revenge- wait. ]

That doesn't sound fun.

[wizzardly]

Yes, but they also can't punch you in yours.

[cowardice in all things, April. This is the way of the Rincewind.

He shrugs a little helplessly.]

Sorry. It's all right if you'd rather not.

[aggressiveapathy]

We can do...stuff. I guess.

[ It will just take a little extra thinking. ]

Everyone lets secrets out on the network. Eventually.

[wizzardly]

Eventually is better than immediately. Time for the Porter to send him back to whatever horrid land he came from, hopefully.

[aggressiveapathy]

She's not that kinda god.

[wizzardly]

"She"? - Do you mean Lachesis?

[aggressiveapathy]

Or her sister. I stopped keeping track. Just. Offer sacrifice and hope for the best.

[ She leans back against his pillows. Even April doesn't know if she's joking at this point. It's been too long in this place. ]

[wizzardly]

Gods are bastards on the whole.

[which feels good to say in a world where he's reasonably sure they can't hear him. He sits again, then slowly lays back as well, legs dangling off the edge.]

...I don't know that I ever thanked you for not minding my living here. But thank you.

[aggressiveapathy]

That is the saddest thing you ever said. Don't let Luggage hear that. It's a bad example.

[ April almost forced her way into her first living situation in this world. There was none of this touchy feely stuff. Just fierce house-protection. ]