milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

autor,
ned poins

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Ned Poins is in the bar, in a good mood,
Sitting close to the fireplace and drinking -- water??
He hath a strange new thing within his hands,
And finds out eagerly what it would do.

And fieryTrigon now is signed on.

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He does, and with a blink the thing turns on and a name appears: equivocalSovereign is online.

This is Hal's wut face.

"That is thy trolltag?" Poins laughs. "How very aptly picked!"

"Call me not a troll, wretch," Hal murmurs at Poins, elbowing him gently. "And what is thine?"

fieryTrigon has started trolling equivocalSovereign.

FT: Tis trolling what they call when we converse thus,
FT: And hence, a trolltag is the artful name
FT: That we are called by these when we do so.

It takes Hal a minute to figure out how to reply to that, after nearly dropping the device.

ES: ...Trolling. Truly?

FT: Truly. Tis what the troll hath called it.

ES: And thou would send me messages on this to thus relieve me of the boredom of court when I am to appear there?
ES: How am I to hide such a device from the King?

FT: Beneath thy cloak, or underneath the table?

ES: Perhaps in a book, once hollowed.

FT: Tis quite a good idea, if on has boring books to spare for such a task?

ES: Art not all books once read boring?

Hal looks up, blinking at the lack of fluorescing letters on the little screen. How strangely fast one becomes accustomed to making the words appear not from mouths but form hands!

FT: But then, why would a priest fain read his breviary time and again?

ES: Who knows why the old men do what they do? With ease enough I can hollow a book to carry. Perhaps a bible or a book of hours?

He grins. Of course, no one would suspect him of doing anything untoward with a book of meditations in his hand.

FT: Would they then trust a breviary in thy hands, or rather think thee a most princely hypocrite?

Edited 2013-02-19 21:28 (UTC)

ES: Would it matter?

Edited 2013-02-19 21:47 (UTC)

FT: Not if it ever matters what others think of thee; and as I know thee, Hal, it matters not!

Hal shrugs bodily and lets the device fall with his hand.

"I should endeavor to find a good book."

"Not too good a book, I would think," Poins says, grinning at him.

"Never," he tosses back with a mocking, courtly bow and a wide grin.

"Go find a bad book, then, and make it be a useful one instead, to hide thy secrets in it," Poins says.

"Aye, I shall; and find thee anon," Hal says, turning to find the library.

"Anon indeed," Poins says, now going back to learning his device.

He hath got time, here.

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