[Video] [FLEETWIDE] [Encrypted from Atroma]

[tallasaking]

[Tyrion's face appears on the screen, scarred and faintly bemused, as he peers at the feed, then shifts something off to the side. Some sort of computing device. He shifts it again, and the screen changes, narrows, with a small bit of scripts running along the top. He sighs, shakes his head a little.]

I need someone who has the communications augment. This ... this is not secure enough. It is secure, but not secure absolutely. Which is what we require.

[He grumbles, and goes back to fiddling with wires.]

Comments

[bythewaves]

I will never understand this fondness for coffee when tea is superior!

[tallasaking]

That is because you are an insane person.

[bythewaves]

Nonsense, I have it on good authority that tea is the superior drink!

[tallasaking]

I don't know what good authority that is, but clearly they have fallen off a horse one too many times.

[bythewaves]

How rude! [ He's laughing so hard ]

Mistress Dora would have you know that she is the epitome of manners in the Shire, and that includes, of course, the proper setting and establishment of Tea Time.

[tallasaking]

That is not the first time I have heard that. I sincerely doubt it will be the last.

Mistress Dora can say all she likes, coffee is still better.

[bythewaves]

Ah now, be careful there, for Mistress Dora has always, to my knowledge, had a very great deal to say, and no issues with expounding on those things. At length!

[tallasaking]

She may have a great deal to say, and with great veracity, but it does not mean she is right.

[bythewaves]

Sshh, not so loud, or she might hear you, even here!

[tallasaking]

She doesn't scare me.

Well she probably will but she doesn't scare me yet.

[bythewaves]

[ He laughs ]

Well in fairness, Mistress Dora is a Hobbit matron, and has never wielded any weapon more deadly than her tongue, and possibly her umbrella. Still, I would not cross her - I am glad she never came to the Inn where I worked for a year! I heard enough stories of her to last me a lifetime.

[tallasaking]

Now that sounds utterly terrifying. Especially since I have no idea what an umbrella is.

[bythewaves]

A small device meant to keep the rain off - it folds closed when not in use to roughly about the length of a short walking stick, and is usually made using waxcloth, or something of the sort.

[ He laughs ]

[tallasaking]

Ah, well, that's rather clever. I should get one of those when we reach a rain planet.

[He's sort of surprised they haven't found one yet, honestly.]

[bythewaves]

They are, actually, although only for rain, and much less so for wind - the rib design that allows them to open and close is less than sturdy. Most folk prefer to stick to cloaks, still!

[tallasaking]

I know I would -- if it is made as you say, of shoddy design.

[Who wants something that is going to break all the time? Not he.]

[bythewaves]

I think it is the materials, too.

[ Maglor says thoughtfully ] I've only seen them amongst the hobbits, but it is difficult to find the balance between strong enough to support waxcloth, light enough to easily carry, and flexible enough to open and close. I suppose if that could be overcome...

[tallasaking]

Hmmm ... I might have to find some durable cloth and see what I can do.

[Another project, hurrah! He only has ... five now.]

[bythewaves]

[ lol oops ]

If you find a solution, I would be very interested! But do not put yourself out, my friend.

[tallasaking]

I promise, I'll only put as much in as I dare. I have so many other things going on after all ... wouldn't want to neglect one project for another.

[Or another. Or a different other.]

[bythewaves]

You are always busy!

But here, I brought your coffee. And a ... something fruit tart.

[tallasaking]

Maglor ... if we are speaking to one another face to face, why are we still messaging?

[bythewaves]

Because I am outside your door and both my hands are full! Also I am too well brought up to kick the door.

[tallasaking]

Well hold on, I will go ahead and open it.

action

[bythewaves]

[ And Maglor is at your door like a good delivery elf, with hot coffee in a thermos, because those things are such wonderful inventions, and a tart, and his communicator, all somehow precariously balanced ]