[Dragon Mail: Ezra Amos]

[bittersaint]

Mind taking better care of your city, Spenta? You've been losing it everywhere over here.

Send me some cigarettes while you're at it. You know the kind I like.


[Dragon Mail: Rhys Elena]

Didn't think I'd see the day where I'd find someone with a more pitiful kicked puppy look than you. Convinced me he was yours in no time.

Comments

[brokencrescendo]

Or at all? Unless things have gotten that different.
I'll get him something custom.

[bittersaint]

Do you think they'd take it away? [the concept of school makes no sense to him if he's not going to go study as a mage or an alchemist... and since he isn't, what's the trouble in have a weapon?] Well, I haven't had trouble carrying my sword around, but I'm also situated in Bastantown. It wasn't really feasible to go wasting time to get all the people ported here to go hiding their weapons all of a sudden.

I suppose it could be different for him, though.

[pentaps] Do you want me to tell him who it's from?

[brokencrescendo]

In the world it's become? Who knows. Maybe only temporarily.
Not that Gunnar couldn't find a way to get it back, being him.

If he asks.
No use lying to him.

[bittersaint]

He'll know the answer better than I.

I'll do it that way then.

Do you need anything?

[brokencrescendo]

Don't worry about me. I'm managing from this end. [Also picking a fight with the king don't forget that part.]

You're already doing me a huge favor.