♅ ninth

[themistress]

[Mistress has a baby, but you'd really be hard-pressed to get her to admit it. So, for the past few days, there has been a rowdy, ill-behaved little boy running around in the lobby. He doesn't seem to speak very much, though he does laugh, and he's fond of magically zapping people to watch them jump.

But Mistress doesn't care. She just lets him run roughshod all over the place without so much as a glance. But anyone in the lobby might notice something a little suspicious about the way she glares when he peeks around the corner of her throne and then turns her footstool to life.

It trots out from under her feet, and Mistress adeptly catches the little boy by the upper arm.]

Stop it, Child. Leave me be.

[The little boy sullenly sucks his bejeweled binky and pouts at her until she releases him, whereupon he goes back to running around and casting magic at people.]

Comments

[thehistorian]

[he looks down at the child and raises an eyebrow.] Whatever you are thinking, you stop that. I will tie you to a chair and leave you there, do you understand?

[and then he turns his attention back to Mistress.] Well, no, but it does mean you temporarily have ownership of him, in as much as anyone ever owns children.

[themistress]

[Child glares, then opens his palm to Shaun. Blue light surrounds his feet, and suddenly his shoes are made of stone. Child is not capable of much more than basic elemental magic.

Mistress again ignores it.] If I wanted a new pet, I would have procured one myself. Child is not mine to handle.

[thehistorian]

I am going to take these off and throw them at you. Cause and effect. [Shaun levels a glare at the child, crossing his arms over his chest.

...and then turns his attention back to Mistress again.] God forbid they were here to entertain us. Children are terrible at that. They're burdensome and... [he shoots another glare at the child.] Irritating.

[themistress]

[With a defiant suck at his bejeweled dummy, Child toddles away to sit at Mistress's feet.]

I personally don't understand why anyone bothers.

[thehistorian]

God, I haven't the faintest. [He's going to stare sullenly down at his shoes now and then wiggle out of them. Bugger.] entirely more trouble than they're worth.

[themistress]

So glad I never was one.

[thehistorian]

Did you just-- skip that stage entirely?

[themistress]

I absolutely don't recall being a child.

[thehistorian]

Oh, I have many terrible memories of it, myself. Horrible time.

[themistress]

Were you a slave?

[thehistorian]

No, just a child. Which... is a similar concept, really.

[themistress]

Unfortunate. Did you have parents, or were you a street child? Well, you're not dead, so you must not have been a street child. Or you were an absurdly good one...

[She's actually pondering this. IT'S A LEGITIMATE QUESTION FOR HER TIME]

DO YOU EVER SLEEP. i play a game with my inbox: "how many minutes until mistress tags back..."

[thehistorian]

Two parents. Lovely ones, fairly comfortable in terms of money and status.

ROFL i usually sleep between about 4am and 11am est

[themistress]

"Fairly comfortable", what does that mean? A real roof instead of a thatched straw one?

well, that explains it, i sleep 4am-2pm.

[thehistorian]

Real roof, four bedrooms, three bath, two stories. Lovely garden.

\o/ yay for night owls!

[themistress]

Were your parents shopkeepers?

[thehistorian]

Lawyers.

[themistress]

Ah. Well, since you said "slave" and "child" are basically the same, then I imagine you spent a great deal of time scrubbing blood out of their clothing.

[thehistorian]

We had machines for that, actually.

[themistress]

Machine? I'm not sure how any kind of machine could help with that.

[thehistorian]

Washing machines and stain remover. It's all splendid and automated.

[themistress]

But where does the dildo come in?

[thehistorian]

There was a dildo involved?

[themistress]

All machines have dildos. That's what they do.