#sillines

((This was SUPPOSED to have been finished and posted for Karo’s Nameday, however, not all the words came to me.  Still haven’t really/officially.  Ah well.  Posting what I have for maybe editing it later.))

Karo stared at the gift box on the table as she came down the stairs from the bedroom loft.  She had been left alone to sleep in, a luxury she was taking advantage of whenever her patrol rotation allowed.  The box was unexpected though, an anomaly of the day’s start.  Thancred had been pulled away by Riol in the middle of the night for some sort of minor emergency, and G’raha, as was his wont, had already left for the morning, probably to spare with Alisaie.  

There was no note or name on the box, but Karo guessed that it was left for her–even if her sleep-addled mind took a few extra moments to realize why.  Embarrassed to admit it took her as long as it did to realize why her patrol schedule had gotten shifted off it’s normal day, she came  to acknowledge it was her Nameday.  With all the travel back and forth from the First, time had stretched on.  It had probably been actually a single year on the Source since she had celebrated her Nameday properly, sometime before heading there, however with the back and forth she had probably lived through a much longer period than that.  She certainly hadn’t been able to keep track of which moon was when and where–how had the gents remembered?  Reaching out, she brushed the edge of the sparkling blue ribbon with a smile, before smiling mischievously.  Today was going to be fun.

First, the easier pair.  Grabbing her bow, she headed out to the normal sparring grounds, but on the high route not seen from the road.  The walls and pathways of the higher reaches of Revenant’s Toll weren’t in much use yet, still filling in the buildings, but the Bard knew every path there was at this point.  She enjoyed the quiet solitude, not to mention the thrill of being up at a bird’s eye view.  Soon the sounds of mock combat, teasing barbs and friendly banter reached her ears, even as she could see G’raha and Alisaie below.

They were squared off, both grinning, as Karo readied a pair of trick arrows and carefully took aim–ready to fire them in quick succession.  As Alisaie pressed her attack, quickly the arrows took flight, one landing behind each of the unsuspecting Scions, flaring up as they exploded in a shower of light.  Ducking back down behind the wall, she listened to their surprised shouts as they each accused the other of some new found attack or trick.  Her mischief done, the Bard snuck away, the pair unaware of her presence.  

To her dismay, Thancred seemed to be the harder person to find as she perched above the settlement.  He wasn’t among the shop stalls, nor in the Rising Stone proper.  He wasn’t scheduled for a longer patrol, and hadn’t picked up someone’s shift from what she could tell either.  Pouting, she stretched out on the wall, watching for the tell-tale silver hair and white coat, the sun-warmed stone making her drowsy.  

Karo didn’t realize she had fallen asleep, until a sound from below awoke her, a few bells later.  As she shook the sleep from her eyes, she could feel something tucked behind her ear.  A small wildflower bunch–not local–had been carefully placed there while she slept.  Her quarry must have found her instead, because there wasn’t anyone else that could have snuck up on her as she slept like that.  Grinning, she adjusted her braids, pulling her hair off to the side, the crystal tassels tangled in the ponytail she had gathered to show off the flower more.  Gathering her bow, she headed back to her suite.

Opening the door, she could still see the small package sitting on the table, undisturbed since morning.  Next to it though now sat a bouquet of roses, a large cake, and two very amused gentlemen.  Grins and laughter shared all around, Karo couldn’t help being amused that her own antics were outdone by their own–something she hoped would never end.

So I seem to be able to work on bigger stuff when writing a bunch of smaller things....I cannot explain my brain.

For now enjoy this story inspired by scene sent to me from @cruciferousjex

BBC Radio1: Benedict Cumberbatch and Tom Hiddleston getting Steven Spielberg addicted to the Atomic Farts app may be the best story we’ve heard in 2018

Why anyone is surprised by this is beyond me. After all, we’re talking about these two goof-balls:

ME: I have an alternate title for “Change Your Mind”.

RED: Oh?

ME: “Dysfunctional Diamond Family Holiday Reunion”.

RED: ....yeah....

When asked to consider the architectural type ‘folly’, presumably being

a costly ornamental building with no practical purpose, especially a tower or mock-Gothic ruin built in a large garden or park. I prefer to daydream of Andre Jacque’s “Hansel & Gretel Arena” and lean towards another meaning of the word as a starting point lack of good sense; foolishness, "an act of sheer folly"