the duke and the monk - snippet
May. 26th, 2008 12:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrMan, I so do not want to go back to work tomorow.
Choices
Bedros stared broodingly at the rug before the fireplace, still lightly holding the letter which had come only a few hours ago.
It said only what he had expected to hear, had braced himself to read, but it cut deep all the same.
You are best suited to remain guarding the border. No other is nearly as capable as you in that duty.
Which translated as you've let me down for the last damn time, so stay there and rot until you die.
"To the Nether Regions with you, then," he muttered to the fireplace, but without any real heat. He had well and truly lost the battle, and it was all his own fault, and so he needed to quite brooding upon it.
He could not, however. All his choices had been made with good reason, but he seemed the only one capable of seeing that. The one thing which had not been his choice had been his exile to a forgotten corner of the kingdom to defend a border that didn't really need defending, except when the 'enemy' got bored enough to try crossing.
Realizing he'd unintentionally tightened his grip, he released his hold and smoothed out the costly vellum, rereading the words despite himself. The letter was perfectly polite, elegant and smooth…and cold as ice.
They had been friends, once. The very best. Then the King had died, and Godar had assumed the crown, and his best friend had turned into a complete stranger.
Sighing, Bedros finally set the letter aside, taking up his wine and downing the contents in one long swallow.
Most of the time, he didn't really mind his exile – for it was exile, no matter how the pretty letters tried to phrase – but on nights like this, he hated it. There were no friends to call upon, no one to call at his door, no dinners or hunts to which he was invited, no lovers to take to his bed.
Just his empty solar, the noises of the keep muffled and distant.
Oh, he had friends after a fashion, but even Nerek and Kohar were a bit removed – especially now that they'd finally come to their damned senses, and if they'd taken any longer about it he'd fully intended to knock their heads together.
If he'd agreed to that long ago execution, he'd still be back home. If he'd married that damned harridan, he could have returned home.
Almost. He'd almost been able to make himself go through with it. On paper, it had seemed so easy. Marry the woman, be a good, obedient peer of the realm, and he could go back to the life he'd been forced to leave behind. He'd go back to respectability, popularity, back to being someone.
But he couldn't do it, wouldn't do it. He'd given up everything to stand by his decision, and he was not capable of undermining that by going back on his word and actions by marrying the damn Countess.
Never mind she'd been a scheming, gold-hungry harridan anyway. There'd been a few women in his bed over the years, though precious few, and all the damned Countess had managed was to remind him why he generally preferred men.
Sighing, he considered calling for more wine, but decided against it. If he gave in to the urge, he'd wind up regretting it come morning, cause he seriously doubted he'd have the sense to stop.
Instead, he set aside his empty cup and strode the door that led the chapel. Technically, it led to the little balcony overlooking the castle's chapel. The balcony was reserved exclusively for the lord of the keep, technically, but Bedros did not bother to stand much on ceremony.
Regions, he didn't think anyone bothered to use the chapel, minus the odd solider here and there after he'd crossed Nerek.
Until Taniel had arrived, anyway.
At such a late hour, Bedros had expected to find the chapel empty. It wasn't.
Instead he was treated to the lovely sight of Taniel bent over in prayer, displaying his comely back, and all that beautiful, golden hair. He didn't know much about monks, but it seemed odd that one of them would have so much hair. Surely it was distracting, or something.
Where had he come from, to have hair the color of sunshine? His knowledge of foreign lands was murky at best, but he thought he would have remembered a place that boasted people with such beautiful hair.
Beautiful anything else. He was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a pious man – but since the arrival of Taniel he had thought more and more about religion.
Well, he'd been thinking about Taniel in the chapel and what exactly they could do with all those lovely surfaces. That was about as close to religion as he would ever get.
He stood still and quiet as he watched and listened to Taniel pray, loathe to disturb him. A month had passed since Taniel's arrival, the attack brought to his castle by damnable Siran. Nothing further had come to pass, but Taniel did not think it was over.
Bedros just hoped no one else died because of a stupid feud between monks.
It should be harder to believe that a monk would act in such cruel fashion, but he knew all too well how deceptive appearances could be. Back home, at least, religion was just a different angle from which to play the game of politics.
He wondered how Taniel had gotten tangled up in it all. Like his brother, he seemed far more interested in magic than anything else around him – and he'd always thought Kohar obsessed. Taniel's knowledge and magical ability gave new meaning to the word.
Regions, according to Kohar, his brother did not even need a rune monocle. Bedros still could not wrap his mind around that.
Below in the chapel, Taniel stirred from his prayers, breaking into Bedros' aimless thoughts. He stepped back as Taniel stood, not wanting to be caught intruding on what was likely a private matter.
But Taniel almost immediately looked up, a smile on his pretty face. Where Kohar always looked so severe, despite his beauty, Taniel had a…gentleness about him. It made Bedros want to smile and touch him, no matter how foul his mood, and after the letter, it was quite foul.
"Your grace is up late," Taniel said. "Are you unable to sleep?"
"I received a late night missive," Bedros replied, surprising himself. "It has ruined me for sleep, I'm afraid. What of you, monk? Is it common for you to be up at so late an hour?"
Taniel smiled. "I've always been something of a night owl, your grace. Morning prayers are an agony, and I often was punished for sleeping straight through them, but I always attended the evening and nightly prayers. "
Bedros smiled, bracing his arms on the railing, leaning slightly over the edge. "Well, we have that much in common. I rise late because I seldom go to bed before morning."
That earned him a laugh, the sound echoing through the chapel, and Bedros felt his unhappiness melt away as easily as that. It would come back, but for the moment at least it could not compete with present company.
"Finished with your prayers, monk? What mischief are you intending to get into now?"
"Oh, I've had my fill of mischief, your grace," Taniel said, smiling fading slightly. "I thought perhaps a walk."
Bedros stirred at that. A walk, that sounded just the thing. "Would you care for company? Perhaps a walk would ease my own restlessness."
Taniel looked at him in surprise. "Not at all, your grace. I will meet you in the courtyard, if that is acceptable?"
"Most acceptable," Bedros replied, and with a smile vanished back into his room, where he quickly discarded his chamber clothes for sturdier outdoor wear, finishing off with high boots and a heavy cloak. The snow was only light upon the ground, but the air was still bitterly cold.
Out in the courtyard, Taniel waited patiently for him, nothing more than a shadow in his pitch black cloak, the deep hood drawn up over his head. Only the torches scattered about separated Taniel from the darkness.
It was a strange hour to take a walk, but Bedros had done far stranger things at far stranger hours. Anything, really, was better than sitting in his room for even a minute longer. Chased by the words of the hated letter, he increased his pace and joined Taniel. "Shall we?"
"I have not explored the land much, your grace. Which path should we take?"
"Hmm…" Bedros thought a moment, then led the way out and took a path that wandered toward the village a bit, but veered off a mile or so from it to lead into the more distant forest. Not that they would go that far – even he wasn't stupid enough to walk through a forest in the dark.
High above, a fat full moon lit up the sky, making the few clouds look as though they were made of shadow and spun silver.
Their breaths misted in the dark, boots crunching on the snow and ice and slush.
"So how long until your monastery misses you and demands your return?" Bedros asked, then realized how that sounded and added, "Not that you are not welcome here indefinitely. I think the presence of his brother has improved Kohar's mood at least threefold."
"I think his improved mood has less to do with my presence and more to do with having the captain in his bed," Taniel replied dryly.
Bedros chuckled. "Perhaps. I was beginning to think they would never figure it out."
"Kohar was always more than a little oblivious when it came to the obvious," Taniel replied with the strange glee that all siblings seemed to display when ratting each other out.
He wondered idly if being oblivious to sexual interest was a trait which ran in the family, or if Taniel was just used to ignoring it.
"So where do you come from, originally, if you do not mind my asking. I was just thinking earlier that my knowledge of foreign lands is woefully lacking, for I cannot place you."
Taniel laughed weakly in the dark, a grimace just barely visible on his face. "To be honest, your grace, I do not know. I never did. Kohar's parents found me on their travels around the kingdom. I was quite young, only three or so. They said they found me wandering the streets, and that I seemed to have been drugged. It was their surmise that I had been kidnapped to be sold off to one of the many, uh, houses in the city. Their best guess was that I somehow escaped, though probably by sheer accident." He shrugged, the movement barely visible. "They took me in, and wound up keeping me."
Anger stirred at the idea that anyone could and would kidnap a helpless child and sell him off for sexual depravity. "I'm glad they saved you from that life," he said quietly. "So how did you become a monk?"
"I started off the same as Kohar, following eagerly in his footsteps – I was always closer to Kohar than anyone else – but as I progressed, I became a bit more interested in the more arcane magics. Once our sister and parents died…" He shrugged. "I chose to follow my arcane interests, and the only ones allowed to study magic at that level are the monks."
Bedros nodded, smiling in the moonlight as they reached the split in the road, turning down the path that would eventually lead to the forest.
He felt Taniel hesitate.
"If you want to ask me something, by all means. Gods know I've been nosy enough."
Taniel laughed. "Given that the demons were entirely my fault, your grace, you have been far more than kind and considerate. No one would have taken it amiss if you had ordered me locked up and severely punished. If you want to ask a few harmless questions, by all means."
"I am more curious as to what question you are hesitating to ask me," Bedros replied.
"My brother has always spoken highly of you in his letters, your grace. We get visitors often in the monastery, people looking for further information on this or that spell, seeking our services in casting spells…others come to recuperate, or simply to get away from city life. The life of a monk is not really a quiet one, in the end. Before I left, the halls were filled with filled with gossip of you. Next to my brothers praise, I could not countenance any of it, but I was curious as to what had given rise to such malicious talk."
Bedros grimaced in the dark, and nearly turned around to stalk back to the castle. "I angered a King," he said finally. "Then I angered a woman."
"Well, that wasn't very smart of you," Taniel said, gentle laughter in his voice. "That certainly explains much of what I was hearing, your grace. Thank you for indulging my rude curiosity."
"At least you ask, rather than assume," Bedros said.
"Assumptions are a foolish thing to make where magic is concerned," Taniel said. "That aside, people liked to make assumptions about me. Half the world thinks I am my father's bastard child, the other half thinks my mother had an affair. No one wanted to believe the simple truth – that they found me, and wound up caring enough about me to go to the trouble of adoption."
Bedros nodded in sympathy. People loved to make assumptions, especially when the truth was too boring to be tolerated. "It certainly does—"
His words were cut off as he was abruptly shoved down, landing face first in a snow drift. He struggled to sit up, even as Taniel held him down, hissing at him not to move.
Then he heard words of magic, and abruptly stilled. If there was one thing he knew, it was not to argue with a mage casting spells.
A couple of minutes later Taniel fell silent, and a far more gentle touch to his shoulder indicated that Bedros could sit up.
He did so, shivering at the snow which had slipped beneath his collar, numbed his face where he'd been shoved into it. "What was that all about?"
"Someone was scrying for me," Taniel said. He snorted. "Someone. Bah! Vosgi is scrying for me, likely to see what I am up to now, and how he can use it to hurt me." He laughed, the sound bitter and weary, all the more awful for coming from someone who had struck Bedros as generally happy in demeanor. "The first betrayal was his, but he likes to forget that part and focus only on the fact that I turned him in." He sighed. "Come, your grace. We should return lest he attempts to cast another scrying. If he saw you, then he will know I'm here, and I do not want to bring still more trouble to your castle."
Bedros brushed snow from his clothes and righted his twisted up cloak. "Scrying?"
"Yes," Taniel said, and Bedros was relieved to hear the negativity leave his tone and manner. "The art of seeing that which is far away. Vosgi is very good at scrying." He laughed softly. "I am better, but he is very good."
"I see modesty is a trait not inflicted upon anyone in your family, but I guess you're both too talented and beautiful to waste time with modesty."
Taniel made a weird, choked sort of sound that Bedros could not puzzle out.
Putting it aside to figure out later, he switched back to the scrying. "How does scrying work?"
"It's fairly simple in appearance and explanation, but rather tricky in execution," Taniel replied, and explained the process to him as they made their way quickly back to the castle.
Choices
Bedros stared broodingly at the rug before the fireplace, still lightly holding the letter which had come only a few hours ago.
It said only what he had expected to hear, had braced himself to read, but it cut deep all the same.
You are best suited to remain guarding the border. No other is nearly as capable as you in that duty.
Which translated as you've let me down for the last damn time, so stay there and rot until you die.
"To the Nether Regions with you, then," he muttered to the fireplace, but without any real heat. He had well and truly lost the battle, and it was all his own fault, and so he needed to quite brooding upon it.
He could not, however. All his choices had been made with good reason, but he seemed the only one capable of seeing that. The one thing which had not been his choice had been his exile to a forgotten corner of the kingdom to defend a border that didn't really need defending, except when the 'enemy' got bored enough to try crossing.
Realizing he'd unintentionally tightened his grip, he released his hold and smoothed out the costly vellum, rereading the words despite himself. The letter was perfectly polite, elegant and smooth…and cold as ice.
They had been friends, once. The very best. Then the King had died, and Godar had assumed the crown, and his best friend had turned into a complete stranger.
Sighing, Bedros finally set the letter aside, taking up his wine and downing the contents in one long swallow.
Most of the time, he didn't really mind his exile – for it was exile, no matter how the pretty letters tried to phrase – but on nights like this, he hated it. There were no friends to call upon, no one to call at his door, no dinners or hunts to which he was invited, no lovers to take to his bed.
Just his empty solar, the noises of the keep muffled and distant.
Oh, he had friends after a fashion, but even Nerek and Kohar were a bit removed – especially now that they'd finally come to their damned senses, and if they'd taken any longer about it he'd fully intended to knock their heads together.
If he'd agreed to that long ago execution, he'd still be back home. If he'd married that damned harridan, he could have returned home.
Almost. He'd almost been able to make himself go through with it. On paper, it had seemed so easy. Marry the woman, be a good, obedient peer of the realm, and he could go back to the life he'd been forced to leave behind. He'd go back to respectability, popularity, back to being someone.
But he couldn't do it, wouldn't do it. He'd given up everything to stand by his decision, and he was not capable of undermining that by going back on his word and actions by marrying the damn Countess.
Never mind she'd been a scheming, gold-hungry harridan anyway. There'd been a few women in his bed over the years, though precious few, and all the damned Countess had managed was to remind him why he generally preferred men.
Sighing, he considered calling for more wine, but decided against it. If he gave in to the urge, he'd wind up regretting it come morning, cause he seriously doubted he'd have the sense to stop.
Instead, he set aside his empty cup and strode the door that led the chapel. Technically, it led to the little balcony overlooking the castle's chapel. The balcony was reserved exclusively for the lord of the keep, technically, but Bedros did not bother to stand much on ceremony.
Regions, he didn't think anyone bothered to use the chapel, minus the odd solider here and there after he'd crossed Nerek.
Until Taniel had arrived, anyway.
At such a late hour, Bedros had expected to find the chapel empty. It wasn't.
Instead he was treated to the lovely sight of Taniel bent over in prayer, displaying his comely back, and all that beautiful, golden hair. He didn't know much about monks, but it seemed odd that one of them would have so much hair. Surely it was distracting, or something.
Where had he come from, to have hair the color of sunshine? His knowledge of foreign lands was murky at best, but he thought he would have remembered a place that boasted people with such beautiful hair.
Beautiful anything else. He was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a pious man – but since the arrival of Taniel he had thought more and more about religion.
Well, he'd been thinking about Taniel in the chapel and what exactly they could do with all those lovely surfaces. That was about as close to religion as he would ever get.
He stood still and quiet as he watched and listened to Taniel pray, loathe to disturb him. A month had passed since Taniel's arrival, the attack brought to his castle by damnable Siran. Nothing further had come to pass, but Taniel did not think it was over.
Bedros just hoped no one else died because of a stupid feud between monks.
It should be harder to believe that a monk would act in such cruel fashion, but he knew all too well how deceptive appearances could be. Back home, at least, religion was just a different angle from which to play the game of politics.
He wondered how Taniel had gotten tangled up in it all. Like his brother, he seemed far more interested in magic than anything else around him – and he'd always thought Kohar obsessed. Taniel's knowledge and magical ability gave new meaning to the word.
Regions, according to Kohar, his brother did not even need a rune monocle. Bedros still could not wrap his mind around that.
Below in the chapel, Taniel stirred from his prayers, breaking into Bedros' aimless thoughts. He stepped back as Taniel stood, not wanting to be caught intruding on what was likely a private matter.
But Taniel almost immediately looked up, a smile on his pretty face. Where Kohar always looked so severe, despite his beauty, Taniel had a…gentleness about him. It made Bedros want to smile and touch him, no matter how foul his mood, and after the letter, it was quite foul.
"Your grace is up late," Taniel said. "Are you unable to sleep?"
"I received a late night missive," Bedros replied, surprising himself. "It has ruined me for sleep, I'm afraid. What of you, monk? Is it common for you to be up at so late an hour?"
Taniel smiled. "I've always been something of a night owl, your grace. Morning prayers are an agony, and I often was punished for sleeping straight through them, but I always attended the evening and nightly prayers. "
Bedros smiled, bracing his arms on the railing, leaning slightly over the edge. "Well, we have that much in common. I rise late because I seldom go to bed before morning."
That earned him a laugh, the sound echoing through the chapel, and Bedros felt his unhappiness melt away as easily as that. It would come back, but for the moment at least it could not compete with present company.
"Finished with your prayers, monk? What mischief are you intending to get into now?"
"Oh, I've had my fill of mischief, your grace," Taniel said, smiling fading slightly. "I thought perhaps a walk."
Bedros stirred at that. A walk, that sounded just the thing. "Would you care for company? Perhaps a walk would ease my own restlessness."
Taniel looked at him in surprise. "Not at all, your grace. I will meet you in the courtyard, if that is acceptable?"
"Most acceptable," Bedros replied, and with a smile vanished back into his room, where he quickly discarded his chamber clothes for sturdier outdoor wear, finishing off with high boots and a heavy cloak. The snow was only light upon the ground, but the air was still bitterly cold.
Out in the courtyard, Taniel waited patiently for him, nothing more than a shadow in his pitch black cloak, the deep hood drawn up over his head. Only the torches scattered about separated Taniel from the darkness.
It was a strange hour to take a walk, but Bedros had done far stranger things at far stranger hours. Anything, really, was better than sitting in his room for even a minute longer. Chased by the words of the hated letter, he increased his pace and joined Taniel. "Shall we?"
"I have not explored the land much, your grace. Which path should we take?"
"Hmm…" Bedros thought a moment, then led the way out and took a path that wandered toward the village a bit, but veered off a mile or so from it to lead into the more distant forest. Not that they would go that far – even he wasn't stupid enough to walk through a forest in the dark.
High above, a fat full moon lit up the sky, making the few clouds look as though they were made of shadow and spun silver.
Their breaths misted in the dark, boots crunching on the snow and ice and slush.
"So how long until your monastery misses you and demands your return?" Bedros asked, then realized how that sounded and added, "Not that you are not welcome here indefinitely. I think the presence of his brother has improved Kohar's mood at least threefold."
"I think his improved mood has less to do with my presence and more to do with having the captain in his bed," Taniel replied dryly.
Bedros chuckled. "Perhaps. I was beginning to think they would never figure it out."
"Kohar was always more than a little oblivious when it came to the obvious," Taniel replied with the strange glee that all siblings seemed to display when ratting each other out.
He wondered idly if being oblivious to sexual interest was a trait which ran in the family, or if Taniel was just used to ignoring it.
"So where do you come from, originally, if you do not mind my asking. I was just thinking earlier that my knowledge of foreign lands is woefully lacking, for I cannot place you."
Taniel laughed weakly in the dark, a grimace just barely visible on his face. "To be honest, your grace, I do not know. I never did. Kohar's parents found me on their travels around the kingdom. I was quite young, only three or so. They said they found me wandering the streets, and that I seemed to have been drugged. It was their surmise that I had been kidnapped to be sold off to one of the many, uh, houses in the city. Their best guess was that I somehow escaped, though probably by sheer accident." He shrugged, the movement barely visible. "They took me in, and wound up keeping me."
Anger stirred at the idea that anyone could and would kidnap a helpless child and sell him off for sexual depravity. "I'm glad they saved you from that life," he said quietly. "So how did you become a monk?"
"I started off the same as Kohar, following eagerly in his footsteps – I was always closer to Kohar than anyone else – but as I progressed, I became a bit more interested in the more arcane magics. Once our sister and parents died…" He shrugged. "I chose to follow my arcane interests, and the only ones allowed to study magic at that level are the monks."
Bedros nodded, smiling in the moonlight as they reached the split in the road, turning down the path that would eventually lead to the forest.
He felt Taniel hesitate.
"If you want to ask me something, by all means. Gods know I've been nosy enough."
Taniel laughed. "Given that the demons were entirely my fault, your grace, you have been far more than kind and considerate. No one would have taken it amiss if you had ordered me locked up and severely punished. If you want to ask a few harmless questions, by all means."
"I am more curious as to what question you are hesitating to ask me," Bedros replied.
"My brother has always spoken highly of you in his letters, your grace. We get visitors often in the monastery, people looking for further information on this or that spell, seeking our services in casting spells…others come to recuperate, or simply to get away from city life. The life of a monk is not really a quiet one, in the end. Before I left, the halls were filled with filled with gossip of you. Next to my brothers praise, I could not countenance any of it, but I was curious as to what had given rise to such malicious talk."
Bedros grimaced in the dark, and nearly turned around to stalk back to the castle. "I angered a King," he said finally. "Then I angered a woman."
"Well, that wasn't very smart of you," Taniel said, gentle laughter in his voice. "That certainly explains much of what I was hearing, your grace. Thank you for indulging my rude curiosity."
"At least you ask, rather than assume," Bedros said.
"Assumptions are a foolish thing to make where magic is concerned," Taniel said. "That aside, people liked to make assumptions about me. Half the world thinks I am my father's bastard child, the other half thinks my mother had an affair. No one wanted to believe the simple truth – that they found me, and wound up caring enough about me to go to the trouble of adoption."
Bedros nodded in sympathy. People loved to make assumptions, especially when the truth was too boring to be tolerated. "It certainly does—"
His words were cut off as he was abruptly shoved down, landing face first in a snow drift. He struggled to sit up, even as Taniel held him down, hissing at him not to move.
Then he heard words of magic, and abruptly stilled. If there was one thing he knew, it was not to argue with a mage casting spells.
A couple of minutes later Taniel fell silent, and a far more gentle touch to his shoulder indicated that Bedros could sit up.
He did so, shivering at the snow which had slipped beneath his collar, numbed his face where he'd been shoved into it. "What was that all about?"
"Someone was scrying for me," Taniel said. He snorted. "Someone. Bah! Vosgi is scrying for me, likely to see what I am up to now, and how he can use it to hurt me." He laughed, the sound bitter and weary, all the more awful for coming from someone who had struck Bedros as generally happy in demeanor. "The first betrayal was his, but he likes to forget that part and focus only on the fact that I turned him in." He sighed. "Come, your grace. We should return lest he attempts to cast another scrying. If he saw you, then he will know I'm here, and I do not want to bring still more trouble to your castle."
Bedros brushed snow from his clothes and righted his twisted up cloak. "Scrying?"
"Yes," Taniel said, and Bedros was relieved to hear the negativity leave his tone and manner. "The art of seeing that which is far away. Vosgi is very good at scrying." He laughed softly. "I am better, but he is very good."
"I see modesty is a trait not inflicted upon anyone in your family, but I guess you're both too talented and beautiful to waste time with modesty."
Taniel made a weird, choked sort of sound that Bedros could not puzzle out.
Putting it aside to figure out later, he switched back to the scrying. "How does scrying work?"
"It's fairly simple in appearance and explanation, but rather tricky in execution," Taniel replied, and explained the process to him as they made their way quickly back to the castle.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-26 04:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-26 04:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-26 04:36 pm (UTC)Hm, Vosgi. Theories about their past relationship abound in my head. Can't wait to find out the truth.^^
Also, Bedros's name has 'bed' in it. This makes me giggle in immature mirth. Hee!
*glomps* Loving this!
no subject
Date: 2008-05-26 05:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-26 05:23 pm (UTC)more, lovely meg, more?
no subject
Date: 2008-05-26 05:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-26 05:27 pm (UTC)Now, what first betrayal did Vosgi commit? Playing around with magic concerning demons or something else? And Taniel did act as though that betrayal was something personal, which makes things curiouser and curiouser. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2008-05-26 05:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-26 05:29 pm (UTC)But uh, Paramore, less the songs I snagged from you (to meet the 100MB limit): http://www.mediafire.com/?bo0mox9tevd
and The Hush Sound - So Sudden, plus two songs off their newest album that I somehow missed when I nabbed that in the first place: http://www.mediafire.com/?i42nbyimgj3
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Date: 2008-05-26 05:35 pm (UTC)Yay! Thankee ^___^
Also, your corn icon slays me with the cute.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-26 05:36 pm (UTC)(and you're welcome!)
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Date: 2008-05-26 05:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-26 05:55 pm (UTC)Also? Am I the only one to realize that his name is Bedros? *can think of half a dozen puns that would go with that*
no subject
Date: 2008-05-26 06:07 pm (UTC)dude, I've been shaking my head at my name choice with him for ages. Honestly, I cant type it without snickering.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-26 06:10 pm (UTC)So, um, how does Taniel feel about the name?
My new character Ardashir wants to say hello to Nerek. Something about warriors and tempers, apparently.