(no subject)

*Thwaps NaNoWriMo* You are set in 1899. This means that Bertie cannot have an elder brother who died in the Great War. I don't care what the angst value is. The Great War won't start for another fifteen years. Similarly, this Bertie has very little in common with Bertie Wooster. He does not play the banjolele, and he should not talk as if he's just stepped into the jazz age. Deirdre, you're not a flapper. Don't talk like one.

(no subject)

[23:49] Delirieuse: *is full of Angst, which is less fattening than cream*
[23:50] bill the radish: ... *chomp!* Yummy!
[00:11] Delirieuse: Eep!
[00:13] bill the radish: *snuggles* Angst filled goodness. ^_^
[00:13] Delirieuse: *warns* I'll give you flabby thighs.
[00:15] bill the radish: I already has flabby thighs. *nibbles*
[00:17] Delirieuse: But... but...
[00:17] Delirieuse: *runs*
[00:18] bill the radish: *chases!*
[00:18] Delirieuse: *climbs a tree*
[00:19] bill the radish: *pouts, waits at bottom of tree*
[00:20] Delirieuse: *wishes she'd brought some sort of picnic*
[00:20] bill the radish: *giggles*
[00:21] Delirieuse: Hey, look! They're giving away enormous ice cream cones over there! *points*
[00:22] bill the radish: *stays* But I want angsty goodness.
[00:23] Delirieuse: Buuut.... It's literary ice cream with angst topping.
[00:23] bill the radish: *scampers!* Ice Cream!
[00:23] Delirieuse: Woo hoo! *climbs down and makes escape*

(no subject)

ARGH! Worse, I've had some sort of brain-fart and decided that "Deirdre" was a Scottish name, when it is, of course, Irish. Well done me. *facepalm*

Well, Deirdre's parents will just have to have been liberal minded.