Verily I Doth Have a Blog

This, droogs, is the like blog-veshch of me (that is Alex). Yes yes yes, the storyteller thought up by the writer veck Burgess or some such oomny veck. The like blogging site 'tumbling' or 'tumblr' was something like new for your Alex to try. An oozhassny site, really, but still like polezny to viddy what's vareeting in the great stew of cyber-grazz. Indulge me, O brothers and only friends, as your malenky droog govoreets and itties through the gloopy land of the grahzny internet. And all that cal.

fromdusktildarko said: Yes, I mean, we'll always be droogies. And here *gently lifts up Alex's arm and puts it around my shoulder again* There you are...*takes a sip of tea, then places it back down on coffee table*

Horrorshow, horrorshow, droogies we shall always be. But place that chasha on a like coaster for Bog’s sake *Alex places the cup on one of the coffee table’s coasters (he put them out with the two mugs). Alex lets his hand gently caress your shoulder, though keeping himself restrained* Alex then says softly “I’m not much for the old lubbilubbing, but, Koshka, may I peck, kiss, that is, you on your like cheeky here? *he moves his eyes towards a spot on your cheek*

fromdusktildarko said: *nods head yes and takes cup of tea from Alex's hands* Thank you...*hugs Alex's arm tightly as one tear falls down cheek*

Not so like hard, thou. I’m glad thou like forgives. I’m not much of a veck for like lubbilubbing, but if it is like alright I’d like to put my rooker back around your pletcho. Here, *Alex takes a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes your cheeks with it. Alex then looks into your eyes quizzically* I’m glad you are feeling better. You are very welcome. Peet down that chasha, let your plott fall back against like mine if thou like wishest. I did not mean to be a bezoomny shoot before. Droogy again?

generalroseshadow said: "Helloooo~ I am back~ Say, how's yourself?" Midnight slipped her hands into her trench coat pockets, a smirking grin etched onto her face.

generalroseshadow:

yourhumbleblogger:

generalroseshadow:

yourhumbleblogger:

generalroseshadow:

yourhumbleblogger:

generalroseshadow:

yourhumbleblogger:

Alex fumbled up to Midnight, a bit dazed and out of things. “Hi hi hi, what giveth then, koshka?” Alex started, then added in response to her question “I’m like dobby enough. Fair and fair, ah yes. How art thou?” Alex’s memory was a bit blurry. Work in the Gramodisc Archives increased and Alex was given a heavier work load than he’d had to deal with in his young life. He was, though wary, eager to get back in the loop of things, though he did remember getting into a bit of an argument with this Midnight.

The scarred woman lifted her head back a little, keeping her eyes locked on him. “Oh, I’m doing just fine,” she dragged out the last two words. Her grin grew a little at his speech, clearly amused at the unique words.

Alex smiled crookedly, replying “horrorshow, good, I mean. I viddy nadsat-talk is no shilarny in our like govoreeting, consorting, I mean.” Alex was surprised Midnight didn’t giggle at his persistent nadsat talk (the habit’s hard to break after near seven years straight of the dialect), but he disguised this, moving on: “So, about that bit of dratsing, fighting, we got into with like weapons and nohzes and all that cal? Shall we bury the like hat chit and like all forgotten? Droogs again, yes?”

Midnight snickered a little, looking to the side for a moment before looking back at him. “Your words are rather… different than what I’ve heard anybody speak.” A glint of amusement flickered in her eyes at the proposal of burying the old times. She had found it quite fun and entertaining. “Oh sure, sure, alright,” she dragged out her sentence.

Alex meditated on the word ‘different’: “my yahzick, tongue, that is, might be as it might be different as you skaz, bound to be that way, viddying as not you nor any other chelloveck or cheena would sdacha round those slovos of mine and my like droogs from long ago. But I take it you mean different in a dobby sort of a way. Horrorshow, horrorshow. I’ll still endeavour to alter my speeching some, so as not to like make your head bolnoy, worry not.” Alex then lightened his speeching at Midnight’s decision to bury the past: “Real horrorshow, the dva of us droogy. Friendly. I viddy that well enough. Middle-nochy, is your like eemya?”

She stared at him for a moment, her grin failing to falter in the slightest. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying,” Midnight snickered a little. “I have a feeling you’re asking about my name there at the end. My name isn’t middle-knocker, it’s Midnight.”

Alex drew a deep breath, and proceeded: “Right about that, you were, about the last bit of my speech. Midnight. That was it, then. Pretty bit of an eemya, I must skaz…say, that is. I thought you took to nadsat talk well enough, very well, indeed not, though you laugh at my like words. I’ll be careful not to like assume you’re versed in Russky or the old shonary Angleruss, for that matter, and I always speak plainly enough. You are a strange sharp, Mid-night, as you call yourself. I don’t assume I like have to say who I am, I being Alex, seeing as you very well might already remember.”

"I was guessing what you were saying last time," Midnight shrugged, adjusting the odd fedora, it’s fabric eyes piercing into him. "And yeahhhh, I remember your name a little. At least I remembered it started with an A, though my first guess was F. Who knows why," she laughed a little and slipped her hands back into the pockets of her trench coat.

Alex was taken aback, but amused at that last sentence: “‘F.’ Thou like skazats? Like that motherly writer veck who like protected me? The other Alex? I never did find out what that like first eemya of his was or is…What makes thou viddy The Great F. Alex in me? Do we really smot similar? I’d not think too kindly on that, though, viddying as he was or is like much starrier and more bezoomny smotting than me, mainly brought on by his wife snuffing—-dying, Bog help her. He never did forgive me for what I like did, I will admit my droogs and I caused it, the death, many a year back. But I do not like wish to dwell on murders past. I do not like to viddy myself a murderer, though I have done so, Bog help me, nor any kind of vonny criminal.”

Alex then paused and lingered on Midnight’s fedora: “Say, Mid-nochy, Midnight, I mean, your platties are very strange. That shlapa, hat, I mean, is rather peculiar. It keeps like staring me down. I was never much one for shlapas or hats myself, though when they made my book into a sinny, they gave sinny-me a bowler one. Anyway, you smot a malenky bit like one of those perverted plennies who like opens up and presents their nagoy plott to little children, it being that outfit of yours.”

fromdusktildarko said: H-Hey! *pushes Alex's hand away from chest gently but firmly* I didn't give you permission to do that! We haven't even gone to a symphony yet, and you already want to do this? *eyes start to water*

Sorry, sorry, starry habits snuff it hard. No need for sorrow, I’ll make all right again. *Alex gently touches your shoulder and pulls the blanket up on you again, then picks up your mug and offers it to you* Here, here’s your like chasha. Peet your chai while it’s still like warm, there’s plenty of moloko and sakar in. No need for weeping, I viddy your glazzies are like wet, don’t be stracked, I meant no vred nor anything like grahzny. May I like osoosh your glaz-balls with my tashtook? My rookers will like only itty where you want, I promise thou. Spatting together and all that cal may be on your like terms. You can rely on me, Koshka.

fromdusktildarko said: well, my name is actually Caitlin, but koshka or kitty is an acceptable nickname, if you wish to do so. *shivers a bit, then lays head on Alex's shoulder and wraps blanked around self tighter*

Caitlin, eh? Horrorshow eemya, lovely zvook to it, too. Koshka will do as dobby as any naz I might pony. Why the shivers, koshka? *Alex runs his fingers gently through your hair, then kisses your head, then your cheek.* Lets pull that blanket there over your pletchoes, and groodies, upper plott, I mean. Let me help with that. *Alex moves his other arm towards your chest, tugging at the blanket but stopping right by your cleavage, gently feeling around there.*

generalroseshadow said: "Helloooo~ I am back~ Say, how's yourself?" Midnight slipped her hands into her trench coat pockets, a smirking grin etched onto her face.

generalroseshadow:

yourhumbleblogger:

generalroseshadow:

yourhumbleblogger:

generalroseshadow:

yourhumbleblogger:

Alex fumbled up to Midnight, a bit dazed and out of things. “Hi hi hi, what giveth then, koshka?” Alex started, then added in response to her question “I’m like dobby enough. Fair and fair, ah yes. How art thou?” Alex’s memory was a bit blurry. Work in the Gramodisc Archives increased and Alex was given a heavier work load than he’d had to deal with in his young life. He was, though wary, eager to get back in the loop of things, though he did remember getting into a bit of an argument with this Midnight.

The scarred woman lifted her head back a little, keeping her eyes locked on him. “Oh, I’m doing just fine,” she dragged out the last two words. Her grin grew a little at his speech, clearly amused at the unique words.

Alex smiled crookedly, replying “horrorshow, good, I mean. I viddy nadsat-talk is no shilarny in our like govoreeting, consorting, I mean.” Alex was surprised Midnight didn’t giggle at his persistent nadsat talk (the habit’s hard to break after near seven years straight of the dialect), but he disguised this, moving on: “So, about that bit of dratsing, fighting, we got into with like weapons and nohzes and all that cal? Shall we bury the like hat chit and like all forgotten? Droogs again, yes?”

Midnight snickered a little, looking to the side for a moment before looking back at him. “Your words are rather… different than what I’ve heard anybody speak.” A glint of amusement flickered in her eyes at the proposal of burying the old times. She had found it quite fun and entertaining. “Oh sure, sure, alright,” she dragged out her sentence.

Alex meditated on the word ‘different’: “my yahzick, tongue, that is, might be as it might be different as you skaz, bound to be that way, viddying as not you nor any other chelloveck or cheena would sdacha round those slovos of mine and my like droogs from long ago. But I take it you mean different in a dobby sort of a way. Horrorshow, horrorshow. I’ll still endeavour to alter my speeching some, so as not to like make your head bolnoy, worry not.” Alex then lightened his speeching at Midnight’s decision to bury the past: “Real horrorshow, the dva of us droogy. Friendly. I viddy that well enough. Middle-nochy, is your like eemya?”

She stared at him for a moment, her grin failing to falter in the slightest. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying,” Midnight snickered a little. “I have a feeling you’re asking about my name there at the end. My name isn’t middle-knocker, it’s Midnight.”

Alex drew a deep breath, and proceeded: “Right about that, you were, about the last bit of my speech. Midnight. That was it, then. Pretty bit of an eemya, I must skaz…say, that is. I thought you took to nadsat talk well enough, very well, indeed not, though you laugh at my like words. I’ll be careful not to like assume you’re versed in Russky or the old shonary Angleruss, for that matter, and I always speak plainly enough. You are a strange sharp, Mid-night, as you call yourself. I don’t assume I like have to say who I am, I being Alex, seeing as you very well might already remember.”

fromdusktildarko said: I mean like, sure. If you really would like to make me a cup of tea, I would be ok with that. -pulls a blanket out of the closet and goes to sit next to Alex- it's really cold in here...

Wha…where did you like find a like blanket from in there? No matter, get what thou like wishest from in my malenky closet. I would like no better veshch than to prod you a chasha of. *Alex sets a cup of tea on the coffee table.* Welly welly well, Koshka, Kitty, is that your eemya? Appy polly loggies for like forgetting. Anyway I pony you a Kat of some sort. And no matter, I viddy you’re a like, ah yes, Merry Kat, Merry Can, that is, thereby not used to cold like here where my own jeezny is. Come thou, warm your nice plott by your droog, here…*Alex puts his arm around your shoulder.*

generalroseshadow said: "Helloooo~ I am back~ Say, how's yourself?" Midnight slipped her hands into her trench coat pockets, a smirking grin etched onto her face.

generalroseshadow:

yourhumbleblogger:

generalroseshadow:

yourhumbleblogger:

Alex fumbled up to Midnight, a bit dazed and out of things. “Hi hi hi, what giveth then, koshka?” Alex started, then added in response to her question “I’m like dobby enough. Fair and fair, ah yes. How art thou?” Alex’s memory was a bit blurry. Work in the Gramodisc Archives increased and Alex was given a heavier work load than he’d had to deal with in his young life. He was, though wary, eager to get back in the loop of things, though he did remember getting into a bit of an argument with this Midnight.

The scarred woman lifted her head back a little, keeping her eyes locked on him. “Oh, I’m doing just fine,” she dragged out the last two words. Her grin grew a little at his speech, clearly amused at the unique words.

Alex smiled crookedly, replying “horrorshow, good, I mean. I viddy nadsat-talk is no shilarny in our like govoreeting, consorting, I mean.” Alex was surprised Midnight didn’t giggle at his persistent nadsat talk (the habit’s hard to break after near seven years straight of the dialect), but he disguised this, moving on: “So, about that bit of dratsing, fighting, we got into with like weapons and nohzes and all that cal? Shall we bury the like hat chit and like all forgotten? Droogs again, yes?”

Midnight snickered a little, looking to the side for a moment before looking back at him. “Your words are rather… different than what I’ve heard anybody speak.” A glint of amusement flickered in her eyes at the proposal of burying the old times. She had found it quite fun and entertaining. “Oh sure, sure, alright,” she dragged out her sentence.

Alex meditated on the word ‘different’: “my yahzick, tongue, that is, might be as it might be different as you skaz, bound to be that way, viddying as not you nor any other chelloveck or cheena would sdacha round those slovos of mine and my like droogs from long ago. But I take it you mean different in a dobby sort of a way. Horrorshow, horrorshow. I’ll still endeavour to alter my speeching some, so as not to like make your head bolnoy, worry not.” Alex then lightened his speeching at Midnight’s decision to bury the past: “Real horrorshow, the dva of us droogy. Friendly. I viddy that well enough. Middle-nochy, is your like eemya?”

fromdusktildarko said: Well good. I'd never wish to intrude on you -takes off coat and hangs it on coat rack- would you like anything while I am up?

Any veshch, you skaz? You’re in my domy, ptitsa, devotchka, I mean. I should like be the sammy host to you and not the other way round, ah yes. Wouldst thou like a like chasha of chai? I was just brewing some before you like barged in, sladky gifts notwithstanding.

fromdusktildarko said: I am not being a bother right? This isn't a bad time or anything I hope...-gently places sweets on counter and closes door gently behind her-

Not at all, no need for shilarny. I’d like prefer you to ring the zvonock in like future, I’ve been through enough like stracks to make any honest chelloveck paranoid but your sladky gift is appreciated, pony that. It’s the nochy, O sister. Not a baddiwad raz at all.