Next victim/volunteer

I volunteer Weft.

He said he's lonely, and that can't be good, poor sod.

*hides up a tree and doesn't come down. Ever*

*has been sitting in that tree for a while now*

Hmmmmm?

Weft: Hi. Which of them are you hiding from?

Suitov: *happily ignoring tree-dwellers* Weft, you say? Somehow I really can't picture that. What sort of thing did you have in mind for him?

(Baskerville: *stalks round and round the foot of the tree, Peter and the Wolf style - snap! snap!*)

Daaren: General idiocity. I needed a break.

Nico: Oh, just a buddy with similar interests to talk shop with. Probably more in the direction of tailoring, though, considering actual shop, as in job, would probably be classified.

Actually, they seem to have very strange rules about what they can discuss. Anyway. It takes a lot of effort and may not be worth it, but he will open up.

*knife from somewhere in the treetop narrowly misses Nico*

Weft! Damn your eyes, you'd better not force me to sedate you again.

*from treetop: "Warning shot!"*

*Nico picks up the knife and considers, then grins*
Well, if he's so thrilled about the idea he's throwing me thank-you presents, I'd better be right off and look for someone suitable.

*zips off fast*

Daaren: Telling her plainly to stop works better.

I want to see what she comes up with first.

*reclines on his branch*

So that I'll know how painfully to kill her.

With some luck, she'll get distracted.

Randomly, you tree-huggers have reminded me of an old worldy-thing I invented and didn't do much with.

It was called 'dream' with a lowercase d, was sort of part consensus-reality, part supervised playpen, and only people with innocent syndrome lived there. And that was only while they were asleep. Hence, you might say, the name of the place. Some of the ideas I had for the archetypal inhabitants were quite nice - and then there were the sleeptrees, which is what reminded me.

If I ever dig out the idea I had about innocents and the Worlds War, I may have to work that in...

*The monkie watches the shifting leaves throw patterns of light and shade. He's talking quietly to nothing in particular; perhaps to the sky.*

It's... just... it's one thing to try to pair Sebbie up... well, because I suppose I'd genuinely like to see him happy. Also, he usually has a sense of humour.

It doesn't work that way for me. I just don't get to go around spending time with acquaintances and wasting time having 'fun'. (*Contemptuous inverted commas around 'fun'... he overtly winces and looks guilty for a moment.*)

And, I mean, that's a good thing. It means I'm not a waste of life like everyone else. I'm grateful. Very grateful.

Don't want to be loved anyway. I want to be useful.

Everyone needs breaks sometimes.

Also, working together, or learning from each other, is useful, and can be fun.

Well I never used to. I'm losing my edge. As for working together, it's... (sigh) it's fun, but it's distracting. Which is bad.

Brr. *headshake* Anyway, melancholy's a sin, not to mention boring for the rest of you, so shall we hope Nico gets distracted by something shiny and talk about something else?

Baskerville: *is bored, was dozing off with chin on paws*
Suitov: *has been leaning on treetrunk, quite enjoying the conversation*

You say fun is bad, and so is being sad? *slightly confused*

Fun isn't intrinsically bad, unless you follow the Zupezupet school or the sect of the Night Diggers, and I think perhaps the Cult of Saint Otpaister might have a similar rule, don't quote me on that one, but when it leads to being distracted from duty that's always bad.

Melancholy is specifically self-indulgent sadness. Sobriety, humility, knowing one's place in the world, those are all good things. Anything in excess, though, leads to imbalance. You end up getting emotions that feed off and amplify themselves and you become either an annoyance or a menace. Bad either way.

What I'm saying is I'm supposed to have some poise and stay grounded. Because soul affects body and the other way around. If I don't, well, in my line of work your prognosis is very bad once you're past your peak. Does anyone want coffees or something? I'm making a quick hop to the tea house in the Knitting Quarter before it closes.

*agrees on all the balance stuff*

Thanks, but no.

Baskerville: Bring me a blueberry flapjack and some of that thick hot chocolate with the whipped cream on it.

Suitov: *ahem*

Baskerville: Oh.... yeah. Please. *cute eyes*

Suitov: Nothing for me, thanks.

*monk runs off*

Suitov: Well, that was subtle. Really subtle, twineball.

* Daaren climbs back to ground level

Nico: You know, Marrik would say Weft needs to get laid badly.

Daaren: He says that about everyone.

Nico: Well, just saying, Weft could have worse help than me...

Why would someone doing him badly help?

Would it answer the question if I told you that it's "needs badly", meaning "needs very much"?