cottonball asked: JEAN JEAN, MY DANCING PRAWNS, COME AND JOIN WITH ME TONIGHT TO FEASSSSTTT**~*~*~*~*~*~~
Incomprehensible wording aside, I don’t care much for “feasting.”
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cottonball asked: JEAN JEAN, MY DANCING PRAWNS, COME AND JOIN WITH ME TONIGHT TO FEASSSSTTT**~*~*~*~*~*~~
Incomprehensible wording aside, I don’t care much for “feasting.”
puzzlepimp asked: i bet your real name is something stupid like butts
You’re not even trying anymore.
of course.
more than you’d think. wearing a mask at university would have drawn undue attention, yes? i didn’t start wearing it until i became well and truly independent. however, if you’re speaking metaphorically, then the answer is none.
i was speaking metaphorically, of course, but now that you’ve mentioned this part of your life i’m curious to know more. so you were someone else once. have you always been jean descole, or did you go by another name?
take a guess.
i would think that the extracurricular activities would make your work even less tolerable. stagnating like that when you’ve already tasted it—what you really want. you want excitement, a mystery, a puzzle to be solved. once things are already revealed to you they hold nothing. you thrive on the discovering, the unraveling. i assume that’s why you associate with me.
you’re like an actor in a play. you go through the motions, the carefully memorised gentleman routine—with such strict rules, it’s the easiest thing to follow, isn’t it? but really you aren’t like that, are you? you’re cold and distant. you hide behind a mask just as much as i do.
someday just sitting behind your university desk solving sudoku puzzles in your spare time won’t be enough. you’d best plan for that occasion.
i see your point, jean, but you and i are not the same man. i do enjoy a break away from the teaching life, and i will shamefully admit that i do enjoy seeing my name in the headlines, but i don’t thrive on it. i only take as much as i need to before i return to my regular schedule. i need more control in my life than you do.
i suppose you are right. i am not the man i say i am. you understand the importance of a private life, i’m sure. but i do not keep myself hidden to everyone. i know who i can trust—who i can allow into my life—and the number is quite high. it may surprise you. i wonder how many people have seen behind your mask?
of course.
more than you’d think. wearing a mask at university would have drawn undue attention, yes? i didn’t start wearing it until i became well and truly independent. however, if you’re speaking metaphorically, then the answer is none.
that sounds horrifically boring. but i suppose that’s you. ever the traditionalist.
perhaps you’re right. i’m not sure you could handle it, being so very… bound to your strict moral principle.
it’s only slightly boring considering my extracurricular activities. i’m sure you’re well aware of those adventures.
i won’t say your offer didn’t interest me. i’ll keep it in mind, certainly.
i would think that the extracurricular activities would make your work even less tolerable. stagnating like that when you’ve already tasted it—what you really want. you want excitement, a mystery, a puzzle to be solved. once things are already revealed to you they hold nothing. you thrive on the discovering, the unraveling. i assume that’s why you associate with me.
you’re like an actor in a play. you go through the motions, the carefully memorised gentleman routine—with such strict rules, it’s the easiest thing to follow, isn’t it? but really you aren’t like that, are you? you’re cold and distant. you hide behind a mask just as much as i do.
someday just sitting behind your university desk solving sudoku puzzles in your spare time won’t be enough. you’d best plan for that occasion.
yes, well—the university has done so much for me. i’ve been at gressenheller for years and while i admit i did take plenty of time off, i don’t know where i would be if i hadn’t taught. i would have no steady ground to fall back on without my job. gressenheller is the only stable thing in my life anymore, it seems.
you and i are not the same man, descole. the puzzles are tempting—[he displays a sly grin]—but i am not sure how well i would fare doing what you do.
that sounds horrifically boring. but i suppose that’s you. ever the traditionalist.
perhaps you’re right. i’m not sure you could handle it, being so very… bound to your strict moral principle.
talk? from whom?
i haven’t the foggiest. it was just a few days ago that my colleagues began to ask why i wanted to leave the university. i’ve made it clear that i have no intention of leaving, but… it has me quite worried.
i don’t see why you’re worried. this is your chance. get out of the rut you’re in, take a holiday, find some direction.
you could always come stay with me. solve puzzles, unearth lost civilisations, the like. if that sort of thing interests you, of course.