I bought the office cinnabons on Feb 14th, but not because it was Valentine's Day. Which, as you probably expect, I think is just an excuse to sell cards and chocolates. Unless love really only happens to other people once a year. Which might make for an interesting story, now I come to write that thought down....
Modest "So we come full circle," said Memnith. He sounded thoughtful now, and carefully extricated himself from the spell-shape. He sat back down on one of the chairs borrowed from the study, and rubbed his nose with a finger. "I suppose it was to be expected that odd things happening connect, but I had expected these to be different things. Why cast the spell in Shoreditch? And what was the point of the spell?" "We may never know, milord." Elizabeth was taking great pains to get the milords in the right places, and though she'd stopped blushing she was still on fire internally, replaying over and over again in her head her casual, "Not now," to one of the Lords Magical. "No, we would, if we could give the problem to Ernest. He'd have answers for us after a sip of his coffee and one of his infuriatingly smug smiles. Our maths teacher once sent him out of the room because he was smirking while Professor Barnes was halfway through writing the problem down." "Is he really as good as that?" Elizabeth eyed one of the yellow beams thoughtfully. "You know, this is a kind of keystone. If you could remove this, all the yellow intrusions would fall apart." "Well... maybe he'd ask a bunch more questions that none of us would see the relevance of, and then go and poke around somewhere unexpected and then he'd come back with an answer," said Memnith. "But largely yes, he is that good, and that's why he's the King's Investigator." "I thought there were more than one?" "There's a corps of Investigators," said Memnith. "But most of them don't get time with their boss, the Investigator Major, let alone meet the King. Ernest is unique in that regard, and he's earned it." "He never seems very...." Elizabeth floundered, lost for words. "He's modest," said Memnith, after watching her struggle for a few seconds. "Genuinely modest, not the fake modesty that pretends to take a step back from the limelight, and then tells all the newspapers and society gossipists about it when no-one's around. He wasn't always... but back to the spell. Removing the intrusion doesn't help us, this is just a picture of what was past. What it does tell us is that this particular spell is not blocking us opening a Gate to Carcosa anymore." "You think there may be others?" "We don't know why this one was cast, so we have to assume that I think. But the easy way to find out is to try opening a Gate." "And if it's blocked?" "We make sure we're prepared for blowback."
2 comments:
I bought the office cinnabons on Feb 14th, but not because it was Valentine's Day. Which, as you probably expect, I think is just an excuse to sell cards and chocolates. Unless love really only happens to other people once a year. Which might make for an interesting story, now I come to write that thought down....
Modest
"So we come full circle," said Memnith. He sounded thoughtful now, and carefully extricated himself from the spell-shape. He sat back down on one of the chairs borrowed from the study, and rubbed his nose with a finger. "I suppose it was to be expected that odd things happening connect, but I had expected these to be different things. Why cast the spell in Shoreditch? And what was the point of the spell?"
"We may never know, milord." Elizabeth was taking great pains to get the milords in the right places, and though she'd stopped blushing she was still on fire internally, replaying over and over again in her head her casual, "Not now," to one of the Lords Magical.
"No, we would, if we could give the problem to Ernest. He'd have answers for us after a sip of his coffee and one of his infuriatingly smug smiles. Our maths teacher once sent him out of the room because he was smirking while Professor Barnes was halfway through writing the problem down."
"Is he really as good as that?" Elizabeth eyed one of the yellow beams thoughtfully. "You know, this is a kind of keystone. If you could remove this, all the yellow intrusions would fall apart."
"Well... maybe he'd ask a bunch more questions that none of us would see the relevance of, and then go and poke around somewhere unexpected and then he'd come back with an answer," said Memnith. "But largely yes, he is that good, and that's why he's the King's Investigator."
"I thought there were more than one?"
"There's a corps of Investigators," said Memnith. "But most of them don't get time with their boss, the Investigator Major, let alone meet the King. Ernest is unique in that regard, and he's earned it."
"He never seems very...." Elizabeth floundered, lost for words.
"He's modest," said Memnith, after watching her struggle for a few seconds. "Genuinely modest, not the fake modesty that pretends to take a step back from the limelight, and then tells all the newspapers and society gossipists about it when no-one's around. He wasn't always... but back to the spell. Removing the intrusion doesn't help us, this is just a picture of what was past. What it does tell us is that this particular spell is not blocking us opening a Gate to Carcosa anymore."
"You think there may be others?"
"We don't know why this one was cast, so we have to assume that I think. But the easy way to find out is to try opening a Gate."
"And if it's blocked?"
"We make sure we're prepared for blowback."
Greg - hmm, yes I can see some fun and interesting possibilities there...
Quite enjoyed this insight into Derby's background, and that you've left more to tell with that hint of 'He wasn't always...'
Post a Comment