Q:*purr purr purr* /is a kitty for some reason idk just go with it
Theoretically, taps on the window ought to all be the same, but the thing about theories is that they are, at best, a projection of probability. If you started trying to get reality to conform to theories, it was only a matter of time before you wound up banning thievery and prostitution, and things could only get sillier from there. The fact of the matter was that she knew who had tapped on her window almost before she heard the tap and, thus, just sighed and announced, “It’s unlatched,” without glancing up from undoing her shoes.
She slipped one sock off, then the other, and, bare feet flat on the cool floor, exhaled softly and smiled to herself, then turned to regard her secretary.
"Drumknott," she offered mildly after a moment, ice-blue eyes coming to rest on the other woman’s face, "what the hell?”
"And I trust that you do not require confirmation that this is true.” She smiled faintly, belying the touch of acid in her tone, and, as Drumknott settled in, poured a glass of amber liquid whose firey sweetness carried, even without direct contact, a punch a troll would be proud of.
She offered the glass with one hand and with the other scooped up Mr Wuffles, who had been snoring in the seat opposite Drumknott’s and, little bothering to stir, traded that for snoring in Vetinari’s lap. Truth be told, the little creature’s remarkable aptitude for sleeping anywhere and in any position left her suspicious that he wasn’t a dog at all but a cat in a terrier suit.
Well, if so, he’d more than earned his position, and probably hers too. She gave him an expert scritch behind the fuzzy ears and offered Drumknott a disconcertingly benign smile.
"I trust they are well?"
"Quite well. My nephew thanks you for the stamps. My sister sends her regards."
She took a sip from the brandy. It was strange. Her nerves ought to be jumping and frayed after her encounter, but they weren’t. True, she’d been a bit jumpy coming here, but here, with her ladyship beside her, they weren’t. She was, as she’d said, of sufficient value that the Patrician would see to her protection. At this moment, she suspected she was the safest person in the city.
How strange, that this safety would be felt so keenly due to the presence of the most dangerous person in the city.
She took another sip. What little jumpiness her nerves still felt had long since dissipated by now, but she was not going to pass up a glass of such fine brandy on those grounds.
"As for the ruffians, I daresay they will live, though not happily. Sergeant Detritus was making his beat in the vicinity and I requested his aid. However, as I was returning I spotted several suspicious persons loitering near the entrances to the palace. I can only assume a connection."
I made one toooo
Gave her braids and bigger ears cause I like those
I like the idea of her liking pink :3
// Kind of on the right track? I chose pink, because I love the idea of an orc girl liking pink.
Aaaah cutie pie o3o
Q:[text]: Is that your way of saying you miss me?
[text]: no ash
[text]: this is really me saying I need you to help me sew this rip
[text]: I ripped the seeming on this dress I bought.
[text]: That’s unfortunate. I’ll see what I can do.
[text]: You have a sewing machine, right?
[text]: I know.
[text]: Yes, I got it out for you…
[text]: Excellent, I’m rubbish by hand.