video | un: warden (this post is about romance novels)

[megatheorem]

[Good day, Trench, and welcome to... whatever this is going to be. Here is one Palamedes, sitting at his desk in what may be broadly recognizable as his office in the Sanctuary, whether or not one has been in it before (it has, these days, a distressing worm-on-a-string curtain in place of a door). Palamedes shuffles through some papers, tsks, and gets up to simply walk off screen, although this is not an accidental post, for he does call back:]

Damn my filing system! Hold on, don't look away.

[So now: the sounds of shuffling, and also, footsteps on a ladder? Then the eventual soft thump as he hops back down, and finally his several layered cardigans masquerading as a torso coming back into view, before he sits back down in the chair with a hearty squeak of rusty metal.

He has even more papers now. A small pile of notebooks, actually, which he folds his hands atop before properly regarding the camera.]

So! I wrote a book. Are any of you in the publishing business? Here, locally, or otherwise? My wheelhouse is firmly the academic, and literature— while a passion project— is a field I know far less about. As such: publishing. Any tips welcome.

I am also in the market for some cover art, I think. My artistic talents leave a lot to be desired, but I've produced some helpful mock-ups, somewhere around here...

[Just kidding they're right here ready and waiting, and so he holds them up side by side:



...So, yes. His handwriting is, of course, perfectly legible.]

Like I said: I'm an academic, not an artist. I'll pay you in whatever you like, blood or stone or- [and he leans briefly off camera again, to mutter, then he's back] -or scones! Good ones, for people into that kind of thing.

[Yahoo... Draw him a horny squidmance cover page... This is ordinary.]

Obviously, children need not apply.

Oh, and the working title is Ceasefire of the Senses: A Treatise on the Juxtaposition of Passion and Reason, unless you happen to be my cruelest critic and dearest spouse, love of my life, in which case "that title is ridiculous" and it's actually called "that story in your fifty notebooks." Regardless.

[He pats the pile of notebooks, like, his title is good actually? This might be a thinly veiled opinion poll about the title.]

And as it's the season, again, if anyone needs a professional hand with their lockjoint, come down to the Lumenarium- or Sanctuary- and ask for Palamedes. I'll take care of it with a silk touch; you get to keep the stones. Drawings of squids entirely voluntary for that one.

Comments

[umbraportation]

Hm, it sounds like a long time for us, but we have cheats that most people don't. Before coming here, I thought I knew pretty much all I needed when it comes to necromancy, yet I've learned a lot by having others around.

[ Nico looks over when the door opens, not surprised because he could see the background of Pal's video. The man may not hang up, but he will once the other's in better range. His table doesn't have anything on it, so it's ready for Pal's armful of supplies.

There's a soft hum at that. ]

Guess the good thing about garlic bread is controlling how much garlic is on it. Viktor can always set aside one that's completely Pal-approved, though. Dare I even ask what sort of food you had at the Sixth House?

[megatheorem]

[Allow him to get Settled and put all his things down, and only then will he put his omni away and stop holding it like he's still on the phone. Okay. He's ready for study hour.]

Fair point. I didn't know what a squid was before coming here, not really, so it stands to reason that works every which way.

[If only everybody was a necromancer... Alas. He begins to shuffle his things, to find his most recent episode of Study Notes.]

On the Sixth: nutrient-rich. Very textured. Imitation meats, exceedingly fibrous vegetables- lab-grown- and so on. Don't mistake my upbringing for ruining my palate, though; this is just an aside of being me. [He just doesn't enjoy the Experience of Food, it's fine. He's come around to the soppy emotional parts of sharing mealtimes, by now.] Who knows, maybe I'll go nuts for garlic bread.

[umbraportation]

[ That's fine with Nico, he'll make sure nothing slides off the table as it's set down. He idly wonders if Pal would use a bookbag if someone got him one. ]

Nothing in your archives about the creatures of Earth? I'm no expert on all of the animals, but I can practically name every Greek monster.

[ If only. Not that Nico's powers work that way, he certainly could give someone a new pair of lungs. ]

Sounds gross. Probably a quick source of sustenance, though. [ He may not eat a lot, but Nico does still enjoy the Experience of Food. Nico watches Pal for a moment. ] It's fine if you don't like it. But I reserve the right to capture your expression through video or photography.

[megatheorem]

[He's more of a one-strap satchel kinda guy, but has he thought about getting a dedicated one? Absolutely not. Today, like all hasty trips to the Archive, is a precarious stack of Stuff. He adjusts his glasses, shrugging.]

Well, we didn't know it was called Earth. The Powers That Be aren't much fans of letting us know what's going on out there or what went on back then, you know?

[Gods, right. Fuck 'em. He settles down in a seat, thumbing at his sheet of notes while he considers Garlic Bread.]

Sure, I'll allow it. There's a photo of me somewhere out there that's supposedly a 'meme' already— so why not. [And after a beat, more seriously:] I am going to try it. But let me try your mother's recipe first, so I definitely get the important part done.

[umbraportation]

[ Exactly the kind of bookbag he was thinking about. Something that Pal could just drop things in with quick, easy movements and not have to struggle with a backpack. ]

Okay fair, the word earth lost part of its meaning somewhere along the way by someone who thought numbers were better than names. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the question of "why do some of you have Greco-Roman names, but God tossed out the Roman names for the planets?"

[ Maybe because the planet names were godly and Jod wanted to be the only one remembered. He doesn't say that, though. ]

It's a deal. Maybe you'll actually like spaghetti, it's pretty much all plant-based foods. [ Nico won't lightly season it but will leave out any sort of meat, since Pal wants to try the recipe. ]

[megatheorem]

[If only he hadn't ruined a bag by taking it straight into the sea already... one day, a new bag.

He laughs, propping his chin in his hand and giving a heart eyeroll for God Doing Anything.]

Stop, you're going to make me an even worse blasphemer than I already am with that kind of sensible question about logical things. Heretic? Deserter? I don't know what word he'd prefer I use, and I intend to never actually find out. [putting 'empire dni' on his carrd asap] But who knows! Maybe he wasn't good at astronomy.

[Anyway.]

My favorite kind of food is 'not a mush,' which is a shockingly smaller field than it sounds. I've seen spaghetti before.

["seen"]

[umbraportation]

[ Time to get him something more waterproof, like the Welcome Bags. Even if Palamedes never goes into the ocean again.

Nico leans forward with a twinkle in his eyes. ]

I don't see anyone here that would tell him anything said here, and he's not omniscient. [ He's only met a small handful of people from the empire and doesn't really talk empire business with them. ] Or wanted to get the old gods out of the picture.

[ 'Not a mush'. ]

So no mashed potatoes, cream corn, or creamy anything like oatmeal.

[ Also remembering the conversation about cheese, so probably a lot of milk products like yogurt and maybe even ice cream which is a shame. ]

[megatheorem]

[Son... Truly, Nico understands him on so many levels.]

He wishes. [To both of those things, maybe. Probably. Palamedes makes a face, like, he would absolutely spend several hours talking mad shit about God just for the hell of it, but - hmm. But... did he not just tell Anna he's trying to stay in his lane... the temptation is too great.] I guess we'll never know, unless someone wants to sit through a self-important speech about how murder is okay when he does it.

[ok just that little thing. NOW moving on,]

"Cream corn" is the worst phrase I've ever heard. Absolutely none of that.

[umbraportation]

[ Even if he never goes in the water, rain could be in their future. ]

It'd be a little terrifying. Having a god around that's omniscient. [ At least God and Jesus don't hang out in physical form around people. ] Honestly, typical god behavior for you.

[ And more, but Nico has learned that gods can learn, grow, and change. Not that he's about to lend his sword and skill to Jod. ]

Yeah, they started selling it in cans. Anyway, we'll go spaghetti, with no cream corn.

[megatheorem]

I doubt anyone truly omniscient could wind up here, you know? And if they did, what for? What would be keeping them around— the atmosphere?

[He waves a hand, like, the blood?? The way the docks always smell super bad? Somebody omniscient would have to be weird and bored to just hang out here.

That said,] Cream corn in a can is proof that divinity is an elaborate lie. That's disgusting. I'm a big fan of spaghetti for not being creamed anything in a can.

[umbraportation]

Or the company. Or they're in hiding. [ Nico thinks about these things. ] Still, it'd be weird to have someone around who knew everything about us.

[ It's already uncomfortable when one deity knows something secret about him. Then, when he dies, his whole life is getting laid out in front of probably his own father. ]

They canned a lot of things that shouldn't be canned. All for the sake of a longer shelf-life. Yeah, sure. Nothing creamed anything about spaghetti.

[ Let's just not talk about Chef Boyardee with Pal. ]

[megatheorem]

Only some of the company is worthwhile. Present included, of course.

[But all gods are weird and also: fake? What is divinity except having more powerlevels than the other guy, which is just being a bigger fish, but Palamedes won't get started on that right now.

He considers his pile o' notes... but actually,] Alright. I'll regret this, but: what's the most awful thing they've put in cans?

[umbraportation]

Agreed.

[ That is one way to look at it and Nico can certainly see it. It just makes him think of the Mythomagic game, where the Greek pantheon is boiled down to cards with attack power points.

This question makes Nico pause and consider the answer. ] I think it'd have to be a toss-up of fish assholes and haggis. The first is... exactly what it sounds like. The second is the heart, liver, and lungs of a sheep mixed together with oatmeal, onion, and other spices.

[megatheorem]

Wow. Let me think about this one.

[He does think. About these horrible crimes against cans? Cans, surely, deserve better than to be filled with such vile masses. That said, if Palamedes is forced to confront his many problems with Textures and Mixed Ingredients head on, he is forced to choose...]

I would rather have fish assholes. And then sudden death, but you know.

[umbraportation]

[ It's a tough choice between the two evils, it's true. Most people would need to think about which one they'd rather have if pressed to make the choice. ]

Fair enough. I'd probably rather starve before eating either one. But it's horrifying to think that someone out there thought canning that was a good idea.

What's the grossest food you've had since ending up here?

[megatheorem]

Hmm— spicy curry.

[Immediately he holds up a hand, like, listen, fish assholes and spicy curry are not on the same scale of gross at all, he knows. Also,]

Mostly, because it was spicy. I think I wept? Viktor can regale you with the tale of how many tears I got into the food. Overall a very gross experience for me, who has to live in my head.