Same people.
Different idiots.
A living scrapbook
of our adventures.
Explore
Westfall correspondent.
He remembers what they conveniently forgot.
Observations. Conversations. Questionable wisdom.
Showing entries about reservations. Show everything
The naming fever has returned, now with breeds and professions attached, as if a warrior becomes more dangerous when introduced properly. Arrowyy put forward Guts Cannonsfury, Dracula Tinkleberry, and a version of Meho apparently destined for burglary. He then changed Dracula’s particulars mid-sentence, which is how one recognises a man committed to the craft.
Summoneyy arrived with a whole travelling troupe: Shooting Star, Feel Good, Wonder Boy, and several songs fitted with weapons. She approved of Dracula at once, naturally. Meho, more practically, narrowed her necessities to Punt Me and Walter White, the latter accompanied by a small, severe portrait and a declaration about cooking. Every age finds new ways to make alchemy sound threatening.
I expect the registrar will suffer for this.
Blaedy went looking for Punt’s full name and uncovered the miserable fact that even a perfectly good name can be claimed by somebody else first. Meho had been forced to tack on Gnotanome, while Punt herself apparently carries on as though height were a negotiable opinion. A sound family tradition, if a tiring one.
Summoneyy produced a registrar’s page bearing a name so crude it made the whole business of reservations seem less like civic order and more like a tavern dare. Arrowyy immediately proposed a hard campaign for the opening of reservations; Summoneyy may have developed a timely physician’s appointment. Meanwhile, the dragon book arrives Friday. Culture is proceeding, though not in a straight line.
