kayeaton: (tell me more.)
Kay Eaton ([personal profile] kayeaton) wrote2011-05-15 07:47 pm

second draft || [written]

All right, I've got to know: Are there any publishing outfits here? In a town this size, the chances seem slim, but for all I know, there's a paper no one's mentioned to me. I've got a story or two started, and if I could see them in print, I wouldn't mind dropping my asking price to zero cents a word. It won't hurt them to sit in handwritten piles in my apartment, of course, but stories are always better when they're shared.

It's strange to think that it's May here. It was November back in Manhattan, and that meant a lot of gray skies and windy days, and some rainy ones. Thanksgiving was coming up; between Julius and I, a whole turkey is a waste of a bird, but we were going to have something nice for dinner nonetheless. And in the meanwhile, it would have been a whole lot of pounding on typewriters and talking, no doubt.

At least I left near the start of the month. Just in case time here doesn't run faster than every other world's time, he's got a few weeks to plan out a story or two about the drunken scientist or the mutant hillbillies, and from there...well, ideally, he'd show up here one of these days, too. And if not, he's written plenty on his own before; he's not about to starve to death just because I'm not there to do my share.

I do miss him, though.

((OOC: And just in case you're curious, when she says drunken scientist and mutant hillbillies, she is, uh. Completely serious.))
all7seas: (hmmmm....)

[personal profile] all7seas 2011-05-16 02:00 am (UTC)(link)
You know, darling---if you're not there to support this Julius with your stories, it might do for him to cook himself a turkey. For survival, like.

[identity profile] poorneedyand.livejournal.com 2011-05-16 02:08 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, please, call me Kay. [Emphasis on the oh, please part; Kay hates being called pet names, futile thought it might be to try and break Jack of the habit.]

And I'm not entirely sure he could make a turkey on his own. He'd probably be safer sticking with sandwiches.
all7seas: (gallows)

[personal profile] all7seas 2011-05-16 02:10 am (UTC)(link)
Surely, Mistress Kay, your man could roast himself said turkey? If it meant his life or death? Hm? For what is a man without his ability to roast things?

[identity profile] poorneedyand.livejournal.com 2011-05-16 02:15 am (UTC)(link)
I doubt that his life will come down to a roasted turkey. Jules can walk down to the deli and pick up a sandwich if he's on the verge of collapse, just like everybody else.
all7seas: (and the unlucky rose)

[personal profile] all7seas 2011-05-16 02:17 am (UTC)(link)
[There is a protracted sigh at the other end of the journals. Then:] Right. What is man without his within-walking-distance deli?

I knew a man once what ate only walrus for seventeen years.

[identity profile] poorneedyand.livejournal.com 2011-05-16 02:22 am (UTC)(link)
Not a New Yorker, I can tell you that much.

That poor man. What happened after the seventeen years?
all7seas: (seen your flag on the marble arch)

[personal profile] all7seas 2011-05-16 03:01 am (UTC)(link)
He came out the other end of it all with a shockingly enormous mustache. The true mystery of the entire ordeal, though, Mistress Kay Darling, is that the ladies loved said mustache. None of us could fathom it.

[identity profile] poorneedyand.livejournal.com 2011-05-16 03:06 am (UTC)(link)
So he was slowly but surely turning into a walrus himself. He must have had some real charisma — but I've never seen the appeal of moustaches, myself.
all7seas: (freaking compass)

[personal profile] all7seas 2011-05-16 03:08 am (UTC)(link)
Actually, he had no charisma whatsoever. Norwegian. Lars. No one could understand his strange Northern gibberish. Nah, none of us could understand why, as most wenches hold the same opinions of 'em as you, Mistress.

[identity profile] poorneedyand.livejournal.com 2011-05-16 03:10 am (UTC)(link)
Girls love a mysterious foreigner, though, especially if he had an accent. He must've used that to his advantage.
all7seas: (a hanging)

[personal profile] all7seas 2011-05-16 03:11 am (UTC)(link)
...........Have you never heard a Norwegian speak?

[identity profile] poorneedyand.livejournal.com 2011-05-16 03:17 am (UTC)(link)
Doesn't matter how silly the accent is; it's still reason to look twice at a man where you might not normally. The awful moustache would normally cancel that out, though.
all7seas: (canny lad)

[personal profile] all7seas 2011-05-16 03:22 am (UTC)(link)
Right--you look twice at him and the second time you look that great mustache jabs you right in the eye. And then Lars, he tries to pick you up and of course he can do so with one hand because he's a great huge large fellow, and you can barely see the man with your eye watering the way it is, and you hear a great booming voice enquire "Kan jeg hjelpe deg?" and none of that should set a wench's heart aflame. EVER.

[identity profile] poorneedyand.livejournal.com 2011-05-16 03:28 am (UTC)(link)
He must have some kind of animal magnetism that you just can't appreciate, then. It's harder to imagine, the more you describe him, but there has to be some explanation.
all7seas: (hmmmm....)

[personal profile] all7seas 2011-05-16 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
.....His foul, mead-scented breath, perhaps?

[identity profile] poorneedyand.livejournal.com 2011-05-16 03:34 am (UTC)(link)
The mead-scented part would be fine if it weren't for the foul. Maybe he had talents you weren't privy to.
all7seas: (distasteful)

[personal profile] all7seas 2011-05-16 03:37 am (UTC)(link)
Lass.....he were Norwegian. They're all torn from Thor's left knee or whatnot up there. Not sure there's any lovely romantic dalliances whatsoever in those dark and sinister lands.

[identity profile] poorneedyand.livejournal.com 2011-05-16 03:41 am (UTC)(link)
All those Norwegians do have to come from somewhere.

Besides, the other explanation is that there's no explanation, and wouldn't that be a shame?
all7seas: (must be a tiny thing behind the Pearl)

[personal profile] all7seas 2011-05-16 03:45 am (UTC)(link)
Thor's left knee. My final word on the matter, Mistress.

[identity profile] poorneedyand.livejournal.com 2011-05-16 03:47 am (UTC)(link)
A mystery for the ages, then.
all7seas: (WTF OH NO YOU DI'INT!)

[personal profile] all7seas 2011-05-16 03:49 am (UTC)(link)
Thor's. Left. Knee. SOLVED. Erm---drat it, woman, now I'm hungry for turkey. I missed your Thanksgiving last year because I were raving mad at the time.

[identity profile] poorneedyand.livejournal.com 2011-05-16 03:52 am (UTC)(link)
Catch me in the mood to cook something someday, I'll make you some turkey. [Which'll be the twelfth of never, but that's neither here nor there.] Were you raving mad here or back in your own world?
all7seas: (me? Never!)

[personal profile] all7seas 2011-05-16 03:59 am (UTC)(link)
Here. There. Everywhere. Even that place down in the cracks between. I'm a bit better now, though. Not so bad.


Will you truly make me the turkey, Mistress?

[identity profile] poorneedyand.livejournal.com 2011-05-16 04:02 am (UTC)(link)
Glad to hear it.

Maybe I will. For Thanksgiving, if nothing else.
all7seas: (not a hero really)

[personal profile] all7seas 2011-05-16 04:09 am (UTC)(link)
Lovely!

[Oh no. Don't Feed the Pirate, Kay.]

(no subject)

[personal profile] all7seas - 2011-05-16 04:20 (UTC) - Expand