thirtythird | ad astra ] inbox

@ wlawford 

room 023; bunk 025 (with loki odinson)

text ✰ voice ✰ holovid

How could it? It comes from you.

So do long tirades about cream tea and silk swatches, in all fairness.

I've heard worse.

Perhaps, but I'd like you to hear better. Odes to your best qualities and all that.

I do not think those exist.

Something to keep me occupied, then, while you're busy sewing chaos.

Perhaps.

I will wait in anticipation.

Does it still count if I ask for your help thinking of rhymes?

We can tally it up and see it through the end.

What rhymes with "machinations," then?

Frustrations.

Doesn't quite seem the word for an ode meant to be brimming with praise.

I don't know. There is beauty in the truth as well.

If that's what you'd prefer. I expect most men would enjoy a bit of puffery.

And I enjoy it. But I suppose I am afraid of it too.

Why? If you don't mind my asking.

I'm afraid I'll lose myself to it. Or I'll start to believe it.

Not unreasonable fears, I suppose.

A truthful set of odes it shall be, then.

These are getting harder and harder to picture.

And thus that much more of a triumph when they're pulled off.

Even if they're pulled off a bit clunkily.

I think I can forgive that once they come into existence.

Does "magnanimous" rhyme with "calamitous," do you think?

Close enough, I believe.

Then this is going excellently.

I adore you, darling.

As I . . . treasure you.

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