|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Feb 25, 2013 4:15 pm
The Fool and the Fiddle
A roleplay between Nicholas Glass, Claune, his plague, and Doctor Amory Kempe. The place is Doctor Kempe's office at Trisica, the time is late in the evening on a cold Friday night. Lectures have ended, but the campus is still filled with the chatter of students on their way to their various lodgings. Doctor Kempe has called Mr. Glass to discuss his work, as well as to become acquainted with his Plague, Claune.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 25, 2013 4:30 pm
"This is frivolous," a voice insisted prissily from a stack of papers on Amory Kempe's desk.
"And what would you be doing were we not waiting for Mr. Glass?" Amory asked with barely stifled amusement.
"The arts," insisted the voice, which belonged to a lavender stunted named Rene, now highly offended, "Are never frivolous! Perhaps you Councilmen do not have the romance in your bodies, but to rehearse and perform a play is to connect with the passions of men long dead."
"A worthy endeavour," agreed Amory, "But perhaps not quite so important as meeting a well-educated Grimm new to Gadu."
"Bah!" Rene huffed. "That's not the real reason you wanted to meet him. It would have been far better to get someone in his department to greet him, and you know it."
"Well, his Plague, surely, would be a valuable addition to our research!"
"And we could talk to the Plague anytime, times that do not interrupt with my rehearsals!"
"Tell me then, Rene, if you know me so well, why am I meeting Nicholas Glass?"
Rene made another disgusted noise. "You have not been able to shut up about the man since you saw the report on him on your desk. You think he's fascinating! You think he's worldly! You- You-"
"I?" Amory prompted, grinning widely.
"You're his fan."
Amory's laughter was loud enough to startle a graduate student rushing past to head home for the evening. Rene was not amused. He strutted up to Amory's face, leaping from pile to dangerously-tipping pile of papers, and stuck his finger out at him. "I have a life, Doctor Kempe! I have rights! No one is more pleased than me by your newfound political office, and I am more than proud to be your right-hand Plague, but I am not a dog at your beck and call." This caused Amory to sober up, and he seemed to take grim satisfaction in the small victory, adjusting his doublet with a huff. "These papers," he added, just to keep up his griping before he lost the motivation, "You tried to organize them."
"I thought you'd be glad for that at least," Amory replied bemusedly, leaning on the back of his chair. "Anyway, I absolutely agree. There's no need for you to be at my beck and call like this."
Rene was caught off guard. "Isn't there? I mean, yes, good!"
"That's why I'm wondering why you didn't delegate this relatively unimportant meeting to an underling."
"W-well, Nicholas Glass is a prestigious scholar!" Rene rebuffed, suddenly displeased with the turn the conversation was taking. "It's important that we put on our best face for him."
"Good! Then we're in agreement."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 26, 2013 8:42 am
Nicholas's flapping empty-sleeved coat and energetic gait drew more than a few stares from passing students. He had arrived in Gadu mere hours ago, a whole day later than anticipated (the wagon he'd been traveling on had been delayed by a lame horse halfway out of Easton) and though he had had time to drop off his belongings at a temporary lodging and hurriedly wash up, he still suspected he bore a malodorous bouquet of travel sweat, dust, and equine. Claune hadn't complained, but then the Plague had once admitted to enjoying the odors of death and putrescence, so Nicholas wasn't certain he could be relied upon as an accurate measure.
While Nicholas had grown steadily more enthusiastic as they approached their destination, Claune had grown increasingly withdrawn, and now wouldn't speak to him at all; Nicholas had erred grievously in trying to cheer him up by telling him some interesting stories from his past—all mentions of the sea and water carefully omitted—which, naturally, had turned out to be exactly the wrong thing to do, though Nicholas was at a complete loss as to why. Claune now sat facing away from him on his right shoulder, his mouth pursed into a single blue diamond of tart disapproval. Perhaps, Nicholas thought, his stories had simply been boring enough to give offense.
But though Claune could be patient in his own way—that is to say, when it suited his whims, and then only—Nicholas had been expecting him to break his unknowable silence for some time now, and true to form it wasn't long before the Plague stirred and asked disinterestedly, "What is this fellow's name again?"
"Doctor Amory Kempe," Nicholas replied, to which Claune only said, "Ah," in a way that suggested he was going to spend the rest of the walk thinking of ways to incorporate it into offensive limericks.
Nicholas struggled out of his coat as he walked down the hall, and awkwardly paused to glance at each nameplate until he found Dr. Kempe's office. He paused for a moment to collect himself before coming around to the open doorway.
"I hope I'm not—"
Claune emitted a thin cry at the sight of the office's inhabitants. He swooned, as if overcome, and performed a slow, dramatic collapse against Nicholas's shoulder. Then, very gradually, he began to slide downward. He slid under the edge of Nicholas's shirt. And finally he slid over the precipice of Nicholas's shoulder and fell, with a faint plop, into the tied-up end of Nicholas's empty right sleeve.
"Interrupting anything," Nicholas finished wearily.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 26, 2013 8:59 am
"Mon Dieu," Rene muttered as Claune fainted and Amory stood up to help them, tripping a little in his haste.
"Oh no, not at all!" blustered Amory, wavings his hands reassuringly. "Is your Plague well? I'm afraid I must warn you I'm no medical doctor, but I'm sure we can find someone still in the University at this hour who can help him."
"We can give you directions to someone who can help," Rene corrected quickly, ever the more impatient of the pair, "We are currently waiting for an important guest." He put great emphasis on ceremony despite his employer's extreme state of dishevelment, and was not about to make too much time for a dirty traveler with a fainted Plague. There were hundreds of staff and support staff at Trisica! It was not seemly for the Council representative to break appointments every time someone showed up with a problem, and people with problems seemed to hone in on his office like they could smell his bleeding heart from the hallways.
"Rene," warned Amory. "I do have a meeting, I'm afraid, but I'm not sure it'd be wise to move him. Please, sit down! I'll send a messenger and bring a doctor to us." He glanced back at Rene and his cadre, and Rene rolled his eyes, but accepted the terms of negotiation. He waved a hand and another lavender stunted appeared on the desk for instructions, saluting quickly before disappearing to its duties.
"The deed is done," Rene announced somewhat reluctantly, clearly of the opinion that the fainting Plague in question did not seem so incapacitated as all that.
"Someone will be arriving shortly, with any luck," reassured Amory. "In the meantime, I'm Doctor Kempe." He stuck a hand out and Rene coughed, adding:
"RepresentativeoftheCouncilofSciences"
"Do you know what happened?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 26, 2013 10:02 am
For a brief moment Nicholas was not quite sure how to respond, and in that moment a great deal seemed to transpire. The stunted messenger had already vanished by the time he opened his mouth to protest the need for help. Having grown so accustomed to Claune's theatrics—not to mention experienced at ignoring them—it hadn't occurred to him that others might think the Plague's behavior genuine. Then again, even Nicholas sometimes had trouble differentiating between his legitimate distress and his playacting.
"He's perfectly all right," Nicholas said hurriedly, with a note of extreme apology in his voice. "This is his natural state." The Grimm couldn't think of any way to explain Claune further without risking saying something that might hurt his feelings, and the Plague had a marked dislike of being talked about as if he weren't present, so he hoped that would suffice. Fortunately, Claune underscored the point by choosing that moment to jig about fitfully in Nicholas's hanging sleeve like a fish caught in a net.
Nicholas shook Amory's hand, and, since it clearly wasn't apparent, replied, "Nicholas Glass, and this is Claune. I apologize for my general condition—I was delayed outside of Easton and only just arrived in Gadu a few hours ago." He felt the same twinge of mortification now that he had meeting Dr. Steele back in Briham, and for much the same reasons; he knew he was barely recognizable as an educated man and a former doctor. Fortunately Amory was not nearly as formidable—at least in appearance and demeanor—than Nicholas had been expecting. "Do conventionally trained doctors treat Excitos?" he wondered, genuinely curious. "I was under the impression they didn't sicken easily, but I have very little experience with them outside of Claune."
Claune had stilled, and now hung as a limp and gently swinging bundle at the end of the sleeve.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 26, 2013 10:35 am
Amory and Rene glanced at each other, then at Claune, neither of them entirely certain that the flopping Plague was displaying signs of being anything like "okay" to them. However, both of them were distracted when Nicholas introduced himself, Rene bursting into a flurry of genteel apologies for treating you like a common intruder! not recognizing your learned visage! while Amory broke into an irrepressible grin.
"Mr. Glass! What an excellent entrance you've made. I am sure Rene will be mortified about it for years to come." Rene made a noise of protest and Amory brushed past him, continuing, "Conventionally trained doctors don't treat excitos, no. They very seldom need treating, but some of our Grimms are tasked with the job of finding Plagues whose Grimms have died or abandoned them, and those can be in a very sorry state by the time we reach them. A few of our students have thus been tasked with studying Plague anatomy, and their findings have helped us to rehabilitate a few of these Plagues so they might be able to aid us in our research."
Rene cleared his throat.
"And with the increase in stunted assistants in the Council, we have been obliged by some parties to consider their medical benefits," finished Amory, appeasing Rene.
Rene spoke next, having overcome his mortification enough to say something other than flowery apologies. "Would your Plague prefer to swoon on the couch?" he asked, gesturing to the one chair in the room that did not look like it came from a bachelor's dead grandmother's attic. Amory nodded approvingly.
"Please, sit down! I must admit, I've read more of your work than I have heard of your Plague. If it isn't rude, what sort of item is it from that would make it act so erratically? Is it perhaps predisposed to these swooning fits?" He gestured at Rene. "Rene, and all the stunteds who work for me, are from lavender. I find the scent puts people at ease."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 26, 2013 7:33 pm
"Please don't be," Nicholas said to Rene, smiling, and though he looked quite cheered by Amory's reaction, his smile had a certain pale air of disuse. "I managed to fool Dr. Steele back in Briham as well—I'm fairly certain he mistook me for a porter."
He accepted the invitation to sit, awkwardly dropping his coat across the back of the chair, which he had been keeping pinned under his armpit, and looked back at Amory with an expression of interest. He had just opened his mouth to reply and probably to make further inquiries of his own when Claune reemerged from the sleeve and, standing, said, "It's from a violin—a painted festival violin, or so it's told. And it would prefer to swoon on Nicholas, thank you," he finished, performing an abrupt, flourishing bow first to Rene, then another to Amory.
Nicholas gave Amory a faintly pained look of apology. "He," he explained, just in case. Amory was undoubtedly more experienced in this area, at least now that Claune had deigned to show himself, but Claune possessed a peculiarly high voice, and Nicholas too had privately referred to him as an it for some time before determining that he was, in fact, male. "Originally from Ecara, I think, though his exact provenance is uncertain. I purchased him in Ardenth quite a long time ago." And then Nicholas went on enthusiastically, "I've read a bit of your work also—extremely fascinating—are some of these students involved in Plague rehabilitation yours? That is, students of psychology?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Mar 29, 2013 4:51 pm
Unlike some of his fellow Councilmen, Amory had the decency to look embarrassed at Claune's rebuke. "My apologies," he offered. "Despite my research in Plagueology, I'm still not the sharpest when it comes to guessing the genders of some excito." This remark caused Rene to stiffen slightly, suggesting that the very first time Amory had made that mistake was with an excito he was quite familiar with. "Of course you can swoon wherever is most convenient for you, Claune."
At Nicholas's next inquiry, Amory laughed. "I wish I could get students as interested in Psychology as they are in Plagues! No, some of them are mine, but not nearly as many as I'd like. Most belong to the sciences, especially medicine and Plagueology. That's where the funding is, of course, and my own discipline isn't exactly, well," he gestured helplessly, "Legitimate. That's the Council though, I'm afraid! They'll vote you Representative, but they won't vote you a lecture hall or funds so you can teach your own discipline- Wait, you've heard of my work all the way out in Mishkan?"
"Of course he has," Rene insisted, puffing his chest out proudly, "The work of the Representative is dignified! It is work that should be followed!"
"What it is is work that is terribly difficult to disseminate," Amory corrected. "The few students I've matriculated do what they can, but we can't write books fast enough to keep up with ourselves! And of course, I've never left Imisus, myself, so teaching psychologists outside of Trisica is entirely up to my pupils." He puffed his chest out proudly, "In that regard, at least, they do an excellent job."
Collecting himself, he added, "Oh, but that's what makes your research so fascinating, Mr. Glass! You've been so many places, the data and samples you've collected are truly impressive. I'm afraid that what I've seen is but a very small sample, but so few Councilmen who teach at Trisica have a chance to apply their knowledge in such a wide field as you've traveled. How liberating it must be to be able to balance your studies and your work so admirably!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 31, 2013 2:13 pm
"Ah! I wouldn't object to being called an it," Claune replied, sitting cross-legged on Nicholas's shoulder (he did this oddly: he crossed his legs first, while standing, and then afterwards sank down into the position like a performing contortionist), "if it weren't so difficult to keep track of it in conversation—there are so many its—after a while it gets a bit confusing, doesn't it? My wit, I admit, is unfit for it."
Nicholas looked briefly pained, though not because of Claune; indeed, he hardly gave any indication of having heard the Plague's response at all, like a man who'd grown long accustomed to giving lectures with the sound of construction going on next door. Rather, it was the mention of funding that disturbed him. The thought of money—or his lack thereof—had loomed over him like a specter ever since his departure from Clearbarrow. But the wrinkles quickly vanished from his brow as he replied, "Certainly; of course, I've been making a singular effort to get my hands on everything new in the realm of Plagueology ever since I became a Grimm, and I was lucky to come across some of your work on Plague psychology during my second trip to Briham last year." He paused. "It was liberating," he agreed, careful not to put too much emphasis on the past tense, "though traveling for so many years put me in an awkward position down the line—Claune was the first Plague I'd ever laid eyes on, if you can imagine. I still have a great deal of catching up to do."
Claune's wandering gaze had travelled back to Amory and fixed on him. "Does it happen often, Grimms abandoning their Plagues?" he asked, with a lightness that rang curiously false.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 19, 2013 6:06 am
"It does, a bit," Amory replied obliviously, "The Panymese language isn't the best to speak specifics in, hence the need for a whole set of scientific discourse quite apart from the vernacular. Still, if we can invent words for the humours and the phases of the moon, surely we can invent a word for a Plague whose gender is yet unidentified to us. Getting it to catch on, unfortunately, would be the difficult task." He shrugged.
"Ah yes, my work in Plague psychology is the most popular of my studies, certainly what most people interested in Psychology come to see me about!" He laughed. "I should have expected it, but in the end I don't regret it much. We Councilmen have spent years poking and prodding at Plagues to figure out how they work, but not many have ever bothered to sit down and talk to them and take notes." At the mention of poking and prodding, Rene scrunched up his face-- a twisting of the lavender features, since his head was nothing but a smooth sphere of light. Amory smiled apologetically, but continued, "However, if there is one thing that I regret, it is that no amount of questioning will get them to tell me who their tailors are."
The only thing pulling Amory away from talking about his work, which was one of his favourite subjects and also the one that he recently seemed to get the fewest opportunities to explain, was his interest in Nicholas's work. He leaned forward and nodded, commiserating. "Plagueology did tend to spring itself on all of us, but I can't imagine that your work would have given you any contact with it whatsoever! You seem to me to have done an admirable job catching up, if you've researched so thoroughly that you even came across my studies, but if you'd like, I'd be more than happy to provide you with a reading list. Obviously the standard list for new Grimm recruits would have to be embellished on in your case, but I would be happy to take the time aside to do so." As he spoke, Rene whistled, and a few more lavender stunteds crawled out of the woodwork, ready to take notes. Amory waved them aside. "That will be quite unnecessary, I can write!"
"Abysmally, you can write," corrected Rene, who had no room for flattery where his pride in his secretarial team was at stake.
Amory frowned, and seized upon the distraction that Claune provided. "Not usually voluntarily," he admitted, "Especially considering the social benefits they have come to provide. But it seems to be more than that, too, as if there's some sort of bond between a Grimm and a Plague, regardless of their personal feelings towards each other, that makes it difficult for them to convince themselves to part ways. However, some do, others are separated through circumstance and misfortune. And death, of course. Grimms are both highly valued and highly persecuted." Amory frowned and steepled his fingers. "Personally, I think educating the populace about Plagues and Grimms would do much to end the stigma, but the Church will have none of it. Not in their schools."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Nov 30, 2013 9:31 am
Claune's eyes narrowed slightly at Amory's reply; one could nearly see him preparing to downgrade his strategy from wordplay to fart noises.
Fortunately Nicholas laughed then, and though it was a quiet, careful sound, as if he'd kept it in a cabinet for the better part of a decade and now removed it with a weary suspicion it might disintegrate upon use, Claune whirled around to stare at him incredulously. Only a moment later did he remember to feign a theatrical startle, and the jingling of his bells had a distinct air of anticlimax. "I've wondered the same thing myself," Nicholas admitted, with a fond glance at Claune—Claune stared at him. "Your clothing—" Nicholas went on, but the Plague continued staring at him, and Nicholas awkwardly cleared his throat and changed the subject.
"I would be most grateful," he said to Amory, hoping this reading list would include as many more of his papers on Plague psychology as humanly possible. "And after enduring my own penmanship for so long I'm certain yours can only come as an improvement."
Claune sat quietly; though his eyes did not move he gave the impression of watching Amory from the periphery of his vision, the topic's fascination and horror warring with his strange, brittle pride. "Ah, so that is why we were kicked off the wagon on our way here," he said blithely. "Nicholas had me hide in his luggage—perhaps I shouldn't have kept sneaking out to pinch the driver on the bottom."
Nicholas looked at Claune with a mixture of surprise and resignation. He was quite sure Claune hadn't done that; the Plague had spent the first half of the trip in traumatized silence, freshly educated in the hazards of revealing himself to frightened and superstitious humans. But then, it also sounded very much like something Claune would do, and their driver had, he recalled, been prone to mysterious eruptions of profanity. "Our traveling companions on the next leg of the journey were a great deal more sympathetic," he said. "They had a stunted at home. If it wouldn't be so dangerous for the Plagues involved I might suggest dispatching platoons of them to all corners of Panymium—I imagine it would be difficult to cling to one's serious misgivings after being harassed by a chess set for the better part of an afternoon."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Nov 30, 2013 12:00 pm
"A pity! The Council has taken to using stunteds for almost every small task," (Here, René looked mildly offended at the term 'small') "To the point where some critics would say that we should not trust them so readily. Of course, there are complications. Our human messengers are quite upset."
"With no reason," René intervened, "For their legs are much longer, and it's not fault of ours if even despite that they can't do their jobs as well as us."
"And the stunteds of the Council have formed a parliament, which meets regularly to discuss the rights of the workers and laws to govern their life within the Council walls. We've had to create an ambassador for them."
"He's abysmal," René sniffed.
"He's a graduate student," confided Amory.
Leaning over his list of reading material to double check for missing titles, he continued, "We also have a few chess sets wandering around the halls, although they refused to participate in democratic government. René here had to act as a court emissary to meet with their Queen's demands."
"She was a charming flower!" René exclaimed. "As slender and elegant as she was shrill and demanding."
Amory coughed. "Yes, well, they were certainly interesting to speak to. They wouldn't have a session with me, but they petitioned me as the Council Representative. I've never seen Plagues take after their item so neatly. And there was a black chess court that came calling shortly after. The differences in mental development between the two would have been an interesting case study." He drifted off wistfully, lost in daydreams of research projects.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Nov 30, 2013 8:38 pm
"Really," Nicholas said, with a great deal of interest. "Do Councilmen's excitos take on jobs in Trisica as well, or is doing so mostly restricted to stunteds?"
Claune's mouth diminished into a single blue diamond while Nicholas spoke, as if he were pursing his lips. He looked beseechingly at the ceiling. And then he rolled one sly narrowed eye toward Amory in a manner that communicated, quite clearly, I break things.
"I'm afraid one of those may have been my fault," Nicholas admitted. "I discovered a white chess court in my hedge last spring and agreed to ship them to Gadu. They seemed to be laboring under the impression that they were pursuing the black court, not the other way around." He paused and made a faint expression that could have either been a smile or a grimace, or some combination of both. "My first experience ever speaking to a Plague—sixteen at once. They made off with one of my shirts."
"He only has four of them," Claune supplied helpfully.
"Well, five," Nicholas said, and removed his glasses one-handed only to put them on again right afterwards; he would have had to set them down to pinch the bridge of his nose as he wanted to, and as a scientist, with priorities, real and important ones, he was absolutely not embarrassed by his wardrobe. "I had five. The queen was very persuasive."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 5:19 pm
"If they want to. Not all excitos wish to be helpful, although some Plagues in the Council, such as Sir Erasmus, teach." Amory replied.
"I myself am qualified to substitute in literature and rhetoric classes," René announced somewhat smugly. He looked at Claune skeptically, his naturally neat and organized disposition ill at ease with a Plague who so obviously should not be trusted with Council administration.
"We met the white chess court last winter and sent them to Mishkan. The black chess court arrived shortly after and informed me they had come from Mishkan and sought passage back to find their foe. I fear they must have missed each other again." He smiled somewhat regretfully and finished embellishing the reading list he had been working on while they spoke. "Ah well! It'll give me another chance to acquaint myself with them, although I'll make a note that I should wear a shirt I'm not attached to when the time comes."
"Nobody," René reassured, "Would want your shirts. Certainly not Queen Cliodhna."
Amory shrugged thoughtfully, and handed his list to Nicholas, clearly eager to acquaint him with Plagueology and hear his thoughts. "I can lend you any books you need form the list, of course," he offered, "And a shirt, if you need it, but I fear it won't fit terribly well. I hope you don't mind, but I added much of my own body of research in the field-- If you'd like, I would love to show you my work in person, though. Perhaps you wouldn't mind meeting me for a few sessions? I meet with both Grimms and Plagues regularly, and it would be excellent to hear your thoughts on Grimmship. So few Councilmen are willing to aid the Psychology department's research."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Dec 04, 2013 11:07 am
"Ah, yes," Nicholas said, "I've seen Sir Erasmus, but have never had the fortune of speaking with him." He didn't add that he was referencing the Council meeting of December 1411, and that he had also seen Sir Erasmus stab another anhelo in the eyes with his fingers after the attack on the advisers. Looking back on the event from his current perspective was sobering—at the time Claune hadn't grown, and he'd seriously entertained the notion of surrendering his putesco to the Emperor.
"I myself," said Claune, drawing himself proudly to his full height, "am qualified in nothing whatsoever. Allow me to demonstrate." He cleared his throat and then proclaimed in a high, clear voice:
"I once knew a substitute teacher
A vaunted and venerable creature
Who bravely taught class
With a twig up his—"
Nicholas plucked Claune off his shoulder and gave a weary look of apology to both Amory and René.
"Which was truly his very best feature!" Claune shrieked petulantly from within the Grimm's hand; his voice broke with a sound not unlike the discordant screech of an abused violin. Afterwards he fell silent.
"Please excuse him," Nicholas said. "If they do make a reappearance I would be happy to assist; I spoke to the white bishop at some length, and he might remember me." Nicholas didn't notice that something was ever so slowly emerging from the space between his curled thumb and index finger, something dark and smooth and hopeful, like a seedling pushing through spring soil: Claune's naked buttocks.
Only when Nicholas moved to put Claune aside and take Amory's list did he see it; he closed his eyes in despair. "I don't mind in the slightest—I was hoping you would, to be perfectly frank. And I am utterly at your disposal," he added, in a way that suggested he would gladly attend a session every day for the rest of his life if in doing so he might gain single spark of insight toward the Sisyphean quest of understanding his Plague. "Just say the word. I'm certain I'll find the experience most educational."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
