#I'M PUMPED FOR THIS IDEAAA

[respondinginkind-blog]

@porticosdaughter gets a thing One damn word is all it takes to ruin a morning. His rat is rusty, but not enough to mistake Islington for what it is. He puts the kettle on, undoes his collar. No sense in formal wear when dealing with the Marquis de Carabas. He’s expecting visitors, has three cups at the ready---a balance of probability, not surety. Surprising, is the entrance through the fireplace where moments ago, there had most definitely not been a door. And now de Carabas and a girl half drowning in her sweaters. “If you so much as start to say the words little favour, Marquis, I’ll cut out your tongue.” he gestures for each to help themselves to an armchair. “I don’t do drop ins, and I am not a babysitter. But that is what you want, I assume? If you wanted me to kill her, she would already be dead,” My dear lady Door, my I present the angel Islington.. Only the Marquis could set his teeth on edge by sounding so....melodious, the more tuneful, the more shit being stirred. “Don’t listen to him, I haven’t gone by that name in years...Door...” his head cants, “You wouldn’t be Portico’s daughter, would you? A sigh. “Of course you would. We met once, I believe...at a market, but you would have been just a girl...Kept trying to look at my knives. Your father didn’t approve of me having them there---Speaking of Portico, where is he? What’s happened? It must be serious if the Marquis is finally cashing in this debt.”