paradisa | Chapter Four- The Complaint of Chaucer to his Glass

Filtered to all children aged thirteen and below
Hello. My name is Geoffrey Chaucer. I’m conducting a survey of sorts, and I was hoping you would participate. I would just like to know your name and age. I’d also like to know about your stay at Paradisa.
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Filtered to Sherlock
Pardon me, sir. I wonder if you could conduct your experiments and other loud activities at a more decent time. It has come to my attention that you’re keeping other residents up at night.
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Filtered to Conan
Has the noise stopped?
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[He writes the following slowly, frustrated and bored.]
To you, my friends, I do apply
For an answer to my cry.
Does not the wine taste awry?
I drink and drink, yet no ill effect
Happens that I can detect.
Sober as the day I was born,
I raise my tasteless glass, and mourn.

This castle seems to have done me in,
For it will not allow me a single sin
I know I shall be quite forlorn
If I am forced into celibacy in the morn.

[Geoff is sitting in the library, writing the above poem, and working on other writing. He’s a bit annoying, knocking his foot against the table, ripping up parchment and throwing it to the side, and muttering to himself. He’s also a tad grouchy today. He’s been drinking to control the withdrawal symptoms from not gambling. He has a glass of wine next to him that he keeps testing every few minutes, making faces whenever he does. ]

[ooc: Loss start! Open over journals or in person! As it says, he’s grouchy. You have been warned. Also, if I’ve dropped any convos by accident, give me a poke. I’ve been sick, and I think a few fell through the cracks.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No.

Sherlock, I presume. You don't care about your fellow residents?

That is unfortunate. But do you not think it wise to at least get along with them? There are certainly a lot more of us than you.

I'm sorry, is that supposed to be a reason to deter me? My actions don't affect the vast majority of the residents in this castle, and I've done nothing that would warrant anything more than a stern talking to.

Of course it is. We're all stuck here together. Might as well try to get along. What makes you better than the rest of us?

Oh, plenty.

[There's a pause. Geoff is trying to figure out whether or not he's joking. He decides he's not.]

Well.... I suppose that's your opinion, but it doesn't give you the right to keep people up at night.

They're free to relocate.

...They should not have to.

Do you refuse to relent in this matter, sir?

[An impatient sigh.]

Obviously.

All right, you stinky bastard. I do wish others treat you with the same tenderness you've shown them.

If only.

Chapter Four- The Complaint of Chaucer to his Glass

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