Written By Raymesin
May 1, 2022, 7:19 a.m.(7/24/1017 AR)
Relationship Note on Emara
Oh gods, Emara's back in town. I need to get hold of some strong drink before the pair of them empty my wine rack because it didn't escape in time. Time to visit the importers on my way through the Wards, see what I can lay my hands on.
Welcome home, Emara! Just give me a day or two to stock the cupboards properly before you drop by, alright?
I swear, it's worse than when Syd drops by, and that's bad enough... Oh. You weren't meant to write that bit down, Scholar. Oh well.
Welcome home, Emara! Just give me a day or two to stock the cupboards properly before you drop by, alright?
I swear, it's worse than when Syd drops by, and that's bad enough... Oh. You weren't meant to write that bit down, Scholar. Oh well.
Written By Tanith
Aug. 4, 2020, 8:11 p.m.(10/12/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Emara
Em,
So, today was weird. It started off alright, had to take care of Scarecrow, made sure he didn't sleep. Not for -those- reasons, but because of the accidental thump I gave him. I still don't know what happened- he says he doesn't remember, but gods he looks -so damn proud- about it, you'd have thought -he- was the one that accidentally knocked some powerful, seasoned, brilliant fighter unconscious.
He seemed better this morning, but by the time I was certain he could get himself about, we got a note that there was a woman giving birth in the Shrine. From -Evaristo- of all people. The last baby-catching endeavor, I wasn't yet a Harlequin. I am now, so I got to take point; do you know, it all came right back to me? Helping Mum and Dad with all those brothers ... I mean, most of them were already born, but I helped catch four of them. And then I've assisted with Raymesin now and then.
Still. Not how I expected my morning to go.
It went well! You saw the results, I was glad to help you with that, your flowers deserve better than my personal tending. Baby's healthy, mother's great, got everyone settled and resting, Harlequins checking in on her until she gets more help.
Came home, got cleaned up. Took a nap.
Then, promptly ushered out the door after dinner when Raymesin told me about a -boasting- contest, of all things. Tall tales! Unbelievable stories!
"Yer goin' ter that," he said, and he kissed me and put on his coat and his hat and went off to work. And me ... well. Fine then!
So I told a group of people, even a few that know the man, about how I, Raymesin Ulbran's wife, -not- a fighter, somehow manages to knock my husband out in a single blow. There were some great stories I was up against! One about some amazing feats of sailing, another about a golden duck!
Somehow ... I won? There was a money and a promise to immortalize the tale as some kind of tapestry! And then I was warned by Apollo that, "I can't be blamed if I draw him seventeen feet tall and depict you as a murderous cupcake, though."
Murderous cupcake. That's me.
Perhaps the title of one of my newest books?
Gods. What a strange, wonderful day.
How are you?
Love,
Tani
So, today was weird. It started off alright, had to take care of Scarecrow, made sure he didn't sleep. Not for -those- reasons, but because of the accidental thump I gave him. I still don't know what happened- he says he doesn't remember, but gods he looks -so damn proud- about it, you'd have thought -he- was the one that accidentally knocked some powerful, seasoned, brilliant fighter unconscious.
He seemed better this morning, but by the time I was certain he could get himself about, we got a note that there was a woman giving birth in the Shrine. From -Evaristo- of all people. The last baby-catching endeavor, I wasn't yet a Harlequin. I am now, so I got to take point; do you know, it all came right back to me? Helping Mum and Dad with all those brothers ... I mean, most of them were already born, but I helped catch four of them. And then I've assisted with Raymesin now and then.
Still. Not how I expected my morning to go.
It went well! You saw the results, I was glad to help you with that, your flowers deserve better than my personal tending. Baby's healthy, mother's great, got everyone settled and resting, Harlequins checking in on her until she gets more help.
Came home, got cleaned up. Took a nap.
Then, promptly ushered out the door after dinner when Raymesin told me about a -boasting- contest, of all things. Tall tales! Unbelievable stories!
"Yer goin' ter that," he said, and he kissed me and put on his coat and his hat and went off to work. And me ... well. Fine then!
So I told a group of people, even a few that know the man, about how I, Raymesin Ulbran's wife, -not- a fighter, somehow manages to knock my husband out in a single blow. There were some great stories I was up against! One about some amazing feats of sailing, another about a golden duck!
Somehow ... I won? There was a money and a promise to immortalize the tale as some kind of tapestry! And then I was warned by Apollo that, "I can't be blamed if I draw him seventeen feet tall and depict you as a murderous cupcake, though."
Murderous cupcake. That's me.
Perhaps the title of one of my newest books?
Gods. What a strange, wonderful day.
How are you?
Love,
Tani
Written By Tanith
April 14, 2020, noon(2/11/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Emara
Emara makes the most amazing soap. She used to make me some when she was in the city, told me it was because I smelled like the Murder and she -hated- that. Which I still don't understand.
But what I understood -less- was how she could make soap that didn't have you smell like roses dipped in alcohol and jasmine. I mean, when it's done and it smells overpowering and awful. I don't have her gifts but even I choke when someone drifts by and they reek of Abyssal-floral-ass. (Scholar, I didn't know what that meant until I happened by the Ambassador Salon during some ... birthday party for a princess, I think? It's apt. Trust me.)
Emara can make a perfume, or a soap, or whatever, that makes it seem like you haven't scented yourself, that you woke up literally smelling like rosemary, that it's a part of your character and nothing artificial. It's amazing. I don't know how she does it. She makes our mother smell like she's a walking, breathing, smiling lemon bar. Our father swears that's just 'how she be!' (Scholar, he insisted it was a 'part of her natural cycle, bless her'. I can't.)
I can't wait for her to make me soap again.
But what I understood -less- was how she could make soap that didn't have you smell like roses dipped in alcohol and jasmine. I mean, when it's done and it smells overpowering and awful. I don't have her gifts but even I choke when someone drifts by and they reek of Abyssal-floral-ass. (Scholar, I didn't know what that meant until I happened by the Ambassador Salon during some ... birthday party for a princess, I think? It's apt. Trust me.)
Emara can make a perfume, or a soap, or whatever, that makes it seem like you haven't scented yourself, that you woke up literally smelling like rosemary, that it's a part of your character and nothing artificial. It's amazing. I don't know how she does it. She makes our mother smell like she's a walking, breathing, smiling lemon bar. Our father swears that's just 'how she be!' (Scholar, he insisted it was a 'part of her natural cycle, bless her'. I can't.)
I can't wait for her to make me soap again.
Written By Tanith
April 12, 2020, 1:39 a.m.(2/6/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Emara
Your sweater smells amazing.
Stop stealing my skirts. We have the same mother, she'll make you your own.
You're not getting this sweater back.
Stop stealing my skirts. We have the same mother, she'll make you your own.
You're not getting this sweater back.
Written By Tanith
April 7, 2020, 9:36 a.m.(1/25/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Emara
So my sister's back in the city. Talk about a week of upheavals. None of them are bad. In fact, Emara might be the worst and that's only because she's the mouthiest bitch I've ever seen, and I say that lovingly, as her sister and a person that lives amongst mouthy people. She's been here two days and already she's taken over my bed like a giant, snoring weasel, she somehow talked me into letting her stay in my room, and she drank most of my personal stash of booze. Thank the gods she smells like bliss, otherwise I'd make Corrigan give her his room.
I've really, really missed her.
I've really, really missed her.
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