A
Apocaric
Guest
Original poster
Detorqueo waited a moment for Fei to deal with the music, but when it was apparent she wasn't going to, he dug her cell phone out of her pocket. After staring at it for a brief moment in bafflement, he flipped it open and hit the button labelled 'TALK.' He almost dropped it when a voice came out of it.
"Fei ... Hello ...?"
After a brief pause, he answered. "Fei's drunk. Can I help you?"
"Hello? Uh ... Are you a friend of Fei's?" The voice - presumably Fei's father - sounded about as perplexed as Detorquio was.
"That...would be a reasonably accurate description, I suppose."
"You're not her boyfriend, are you?"
"I'm going to assume that's a more loaded question than it sounds like."
"I'm Fei's father. And you are ...?"
"I had gathered that you were her father, yes. I go by -" He cut himself off with a fake cough, remembering that Fei spoke latin. So it was probably a fair bet that her father did as well. "Escher, these days," he finished, as though that was what he'd been about to say anyway.
"Alright then ... Escher. And where is Fei now?"
"Holding a pillow over her head," he replied frankly as Fei did just that, "presumably so she can pretend we aren't talking right now."
"... You're in her apartment?"
"That would be the logical conclusion, yes."
"... And you're in her bedroom?"
"Well, I could hardly carry her to her bed without being in her bedroom, now could I?"
"... How old are you?'
"That's a matter of some debate."
"It's actually a rather simple question. For example, Fei is 21 years old."
"Yes, well, good for her. I can say, quite definitely, that I am older than 21 and younger than Rome."
"Younger than Rome ... THE Rome? The historic city?"
"I was thinking of the empire, personally, but yes. Do you know of any other Romes?"
"Mm ... And you've known Fei for how long?"
"Long enough for her to finish a quarter-bottle of pomegranite rum. Undoubtedly not one of her better ideas, but who am I to judge?"
"So you've only known her for ... ten minutes?"
"Closer to forty, I think. I had the bottle most of the time."
"Dun tell 'im I'm drinking!" Fei's muffled voice slurred from under the pillow, and Detorqueo snorted.
"You're not 'drinking,' you're drunk. And it's too late for that in any case. Would you rather I told him I was your newly-acquired slave?" he bit out sarcastically. And somewhat bitterly, if truth be told. For all his sarcasm, it was, essentially, accurate.
"Fei ... Hello ...?"
After a brief pause, he answered. "Fei's drunk. Can I help you?"
"Hello? Uh ... Are you a friend of Fei's?" The voice - presumably Fei's father - sounded about as perplexed as Detorquio was.
"That...would be a reasonably accurate description, I suppose."
"You're not her boyfriend, are you?"
"I'm going to assume that's a more loaded question than it sounds like."
"I'm Fei's father. And you are ...?"
"I had gathered that you were her father, yes. I go by -" He cut himself off with a fake cough, remembering that Fei spoke latin. So it was probably a fair bet that her father did as well. "Escher, these days," he finished, as though that was what he'd been about to say anyway.
"Alright then ... Escher. And where is Fei now?"
"Holding a pillow over her head," he replied frankly as Fei did just that, "presumably so she can pretend we aren't talking right now."
"... You're in her apartment?"
"That would be the logical conclusion, yes."
"... And you're in her bedroom?"
"Well, I could hardly carry her to her bed without being in her bedroom, now could I?"
"... How old are you?'
"That's a matter of some debate."
"It's actually a rather simple question. For example, Fei is 21 years old."
"Yes, well, good for her. I can say, quite definitely, that I am older than 21 and younger than Rome."
"Younger than Rome ... THE Rome? The historic city?"
"I was thinking of the empire, personally, but yes. Do you know of any other Romes?"
"Mm ... And you've known Fei for how long?"
"Long enough for her to finish a quarter-bottle of pomegranite rum. Undoubtedly not one of her better ideas, but who am I to judge?"
"So you've only known her for ... ten minutes?"
"Closer to forty, I think. I had the bottle most of the time."
"Dun tell 'im I'm drinking!" Fei's muffled voice slurred from under the pillow, and Detorqueo snorted.
"You're not 'drinking,' you're drunk. And it's too late for that in any case. Would you rather I told him I was your newly-acquired slave?" he bit out sarcastically. And somewhat bitterly, if truth be told. For all his sarcasm, it was, essentially, accurate.