- Messages
- 525
</FONT>
Ill thank you not to take that tone with me in your writing again, Baxack. Believe me when I say I know the exact look that was on your face when you wrote that. If you want to hide the tone of your message, I suggest typing it. That puncture in the parchment was too obvious. I thought better of you.
But since you ask, I will, as always, oblige you. Do not make the mistake of thinking that I do it for your benefit, though. Seeing as we are both mutually indifferent, I liken this to writing a diary entry that was picked up by a stranger who didnt give two figs about my life and needed something to read in the lavatory every evening. Is that not how you read my letters also? Faithfully, this is how I view yours (albeit with more disdain and no mention of lavatory viewing). But you did smile at this, I know.
Yes, I am fine, unless you choose to take the word fine literally. For my current state, it is a metaphorical term for If I spend one more day in this country I will impale myself on a fence stake. Truly, the company is appalling. All but one failed to induce any sense of mercy in my less gratifying side. No, I am not planning on stealing his soul. Not this one. You might be laughing, but stop. This man is no laughing matter, nor is his family. I have never felt so pierced by a gaze since mother was still alive. Thankfully I am not referring to the man, but the family. I felt such an overwhelming sense of nostalgia as I looked upon the face of Asparuh Zhefarovich. You may not have known mother, but if you looked into the eyes of this man, the familiar urge to tear your own heart out with your bare fingers is uncanny. If you knew her, youd be as glad as I that the old b!tch was dead.
But let me turn your attention to Axel Zhefarovich. You are familiar with the surname, are you not? They did not know me, but I knew them. It is my business to know these things. Whatever the case, my encounter with these people have left nothing to be desired. I have had all I want from them and I want nothing more. I am returning in a matter of days (though I ought to have left sooner. One month is pushing my limit here) and should be back by noon on Saturday. Youll not see me arrive though, so dont bother greeting me. I will probably just hex you.
So. Were you expecting more information about the famous family? Surely not, Baxack. Though I am loathe to say it, you know me well enough, as I know you. Youll hear no more on the subject, I am sure of it. Do not beat your head against the wall in anticipation of my return.
Always yours, and never faithful,
Ylva.
The Parlor; Fifteen minutes before Consequences
<FONT font="Times New Roman">Ill thank you not to take that tone with me in your writing again, Baxack. Believe me when I say I know the exact look that was on your face when you wrote that. If you want to hide the tone of your message, I suggest typing it. That puncture in the parchment was too obvious. I thought better of you.
But since you ask, I will, as always, oblige you. Do not make the mistake of thinking that I do it for your benefit, though. Seeing as we are both mutually indifferent, I liken this to writing a diary entry that was picked up by a stranger who didnt give two figs about my life and needed something to read in the lavatory every evening. Is that not how you read my letters also? Faithfully, this is how I view yours (albeit with more disdain and no mention of lavatory viewing). But you did smile at this, I know.
Yes, I am fine, unless you choose to take the word fine literally. For my current state, it is a metaphorical term for If I spend one more day in this country I will impale myself on a fence stake. Truly, the company is appalling. All but one failed to induce any sense of mercy in my less gratifying side. No, I am not planning on stealing his soul. Not this one. You might be laughing, but stop. This man is no laughing matter, nor is his family. I have never felt so pierced by a gaze since mother was still alive. Thankfully I am not referring to the man, but the family. I felt such an overwhelming sense of nostalgia as I looked upon the face of Asparuh Zhefarovich. You may not have known mother, but if you looked into the eyes of this man, the familiar urge to tear your own heart out with your bare fingers is uncanny. If you knew her, youd be as glad as I that the old b!tch was dead.
But let me turn your attention to Axel Zhefarovich. You are familiar with the surname, are you not? They did not know me, but I knew them. It is my business to know these things. Whatever the case, my encounter with these people have left nothing to be desired. I have had all I want from them and I want nothing more. I am returning in a matter of days (though I ought to have left sooner. One month is pushing my limit here) and should be back by noon on Saturday. Youll not see me arrive though, so dont bother greeting me. I will probably just hex you.
So. Were you expecting more information about the famous family? Surely not, Baxack. Though I am loathe to say it, you know me well enough, as I know you. Youll hear no more on the subject, I am sure of it. Do not beat your head against the wall in anticipation of my return.
Always yours, and never faithful,
Ylva.