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Mar. 15th, 2005 06:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nnyHe couldn't be unaware, was her considered opinion, of the effect he had.
He was rarely seen without a book in hand. She suspected that the rumours of his never eating, his restricting himself to, at most, dry bread and a glass of water, where affectations on his part to make this most noticeable of affectations appear far more seamless. She was certain he couldn't read as much as he made out. In fact, on some days she suspected he could very well be illiterate when she considered the ridiculous and varied nature of his reported reading matter- no grown man of respectable character should be caught perusing books on the art of lace making.
No indeed. It would be far too great an indignity to have his food in bite-sized pieces in order to avoid the difficulties inherent in insisting on literary endeavour while at the dining table. It also prevented the problem of crumbs against the faded but clearly expensive black wardrobe he sported. Another to add to his list of affectations- she'd heard that he'd attended some highly-regarded academy where such costume was de rigueur, but she gave it little credence. His nobility she was likewise somewhat suspicious of- the man was alleged to consort with tradesmen, beggars... even police officers. No doubt his necessarily sharp mind had been dulled by his exposure to such characters.
No. She really didn't see any trouble with this at all.
The door opened. Pale blue eyes regarded her with obvious intelligence. Such- he hadn't moved, hadn't spoken, but... perhaps Lord Vetinari wouldn't be quite such a pushover...
MEME: Don't write a story. Don't think about what you're going to write. A poem, a scrap of ficlet, a theory, a character analysis- just fill up either an update box or a comment box with something about fandom. Any fandom. Any something. I want to read what you're thinking. ;)
He was rarely seen without a book in hand. She suspected that the rumours of his never eating, his restricting himself to, at most, dry bread and a glass of water, where affectations on his part to make this most noticeable of affectations appear far more seamless. She was certain he couldn't read as much as he made out. In fact, on some days she suspected he could very well be illiterate when she considered the ridiculous and varied nature of his reported reading matter- no grown man of respectable character should be caught perusing books on the art of lace making.
No indeed. It would be far too great an indignity to have his food in bite-sized pieces in order to avoid the difficulties inherent in insisting on literary endeavour while at the dining table. It also prevented the problem of crumbs against the faded but clearly expensive black wardrobe he sported. Another to add to his list of affectations- she'd heard that he'd attended some highly-regarded academy where such costume was de rigueur, but she gave it little credence. His nobility she was likewise somewhat suspicious of- the man was alleged to consort with tradesmen, beggars... even police officers. No doubt his necessarily sharp mind had been dulled by his exposure to such characters.
No. She really didn't see any trouble with this at all.
The door opened. Pale blue eyes regarded her with obvious intelligence. Such- he hadn't moved, hadn't spoken, but... perhaps Lord Vetinari wouldn't be quite such a pushover...
MEME: Don't write a story. Don't think about what you're going to write. A poem, a scrap of ficlet, a theory, a character analysis- just fill up either an update box or a comment box with something about fandom. Any fandom. Any something. I want to read what you're thinking. ;)
