Sebbie-squeeze 2

*looks at Weft about to break down*

*looks at Sylvie* You're good, kid.

I suspect what he finds ridiculous is the thought of someone trying to hit someone as quick as Sebastian with something heavy, but whatever works, no?

Suitov: I think he's imagining the weight of all the phrenologist's bills.

Siri: I think he just thinks violence is funny.

Perry: I reckon he thought a cricket bat was one of these.

Suitov: Sylvie officially passes muster, does she?

Weft: I didn't necessarily say that...

Why not?

Didn't say anything either way.

*heh* Same question. ;)

Would I be better interviewing you or Daaren, or Anke, about her past, character and likelihood to go evil and hurt him?

*points at Nico* She's most likely to leave out things if she thinks that would improve your impression.

I don't hold with this whole business, but I will say that I'm positive Sylvie will not go evil. She's not the type to hurt people deliberately, unless pushed far too much.

So, unless you want to go the obvious way of asking her [*nods in Sylvie's direction*] directly, Anke would be your best link.

(Sylvie: ... Well, nice one person remembers I'm here... [still amused by the sheer weirdness]

Daaren, Daaren, you only ever ask the susp- er, the subject anything in order to confirm what you already know. Basic rule of investigations, and I'm sure matchmaking is the same. *corner of mouth twitches*

Besides, it was Nico's idea to begin with.

Actually it was Mutt's idea to begin with. I just dug it up when you said we needed to find someone for Sebastian.

(Daaren shakes his head.)

Dug it up? I don't think we're desperate enough to be graverobbing yet. Besides, with Sebbie and me around there's no shortage of potential corpses.

(I don't trust any ideas Mutt had. After all, theologically speaking Suitov and I both count as exactly that.)

Sylvie: Weft, if you're suggesting to raise a dead person to ask them for information about me... I don't thing anyone who ever knew me is buried anywhere in this vicinity; matter of fact I can't think of anyone who knew me closely who's dead now.

Nico: The other plan I could imagine he could have doesn't really bear considering...

Oh, I meant the corpse of an idea, of course.

(Suitov: 'Corse'. Good pun.)

Mostly, anyway. And the 'no acquaintances turning up dead' part sounds promising, though maybe a bit dull.

(Siri: Well, we all know YOUR twisted idea of exciting.
Weft: What, knitting?
Siri: ...yes.)

Well, feathers and a thong hav been exchanged, which in some cultures would make them legally married, so I feel justified in saying HAEV BABIES!! congratululations kids!!

*is maybe evil. A little bit. But does think Sylvie's nice and has no immediate objection to Sebs*

So if I gave you fertiliser for a certain... grassy pelt problem...

I think if you fling horse shit at each other it counts as a divorce? Or a really wild night out.

You know, there's a possibility that one of them simply wanted to give a nice, practical gift to the other without being on the receiving end of silly leers and innuendo. *...sounds a little grumpy*

(Baskerville: Oh, and this has nothing to do with the trinket you're carrying about in one of your pockets. You know, that thing you had made for a certain person who didn't show up.
Weft: Seriously? Is that why he's so annoying lately?
Baskerville: Ya huh.
Weft: It's official. Suitov is stupid. Romance is stupid. Everyone should be celibate and lonely like me. *emits an unkind laugh, sits down gracefully and smugly on the floor*)

Well. If everyone were celibate, there would be no-one at all a generation from now...

Do you consider that a flaw or a feature of your plan, Weft?

*sits down next to him*

(what feathers?)

Weft: Er... huh, everyone's a critic. *didn't think it through, can you tell?*

Baskerville: What, no feathers? Damn! No! I demand feathers!
*also sits down for a second to chew a hock*
Right, if we succeeded in hooking Elf Boy up, who's next to be matchmaked...ed?

Suitov: Apparently not I. [He looks over his shoulder a last time, and then in a twinkling the grouchiness is locked away behind a bright, icy-clear facade.] So, Nico, volunteering?