1st Officer of the Threshecutioner Reserve, Marech Veylor

5 days ago

@martialVarnish[MV]

Attention, Captain Mirith (@diligentAcquisitions), It is "bated breath," not "baited breath." Though I confess the mistake is revealing, given your apparent talent for presenting yourself as a lure and then mistaking restraint for hunger. Your bearing and thought process are akin to playing poker with transparent cards. How fortunate that you have finally found the courage to appear. I must begin by congratulating you on your appointment to Chittr, as this seems to be the most significant public operation you have undertaken aside from weaponizing beverages against my regalia. You have entered, of course, with the subtlety of a blade dropped down a steel stairwell aboard a tanker ship. Additionally, you have the discipline, or lack thereof, to believe the balcony is the proper platform for confession beneath the young rays of the light. I did not address the matter on that very balcony because I, Captain, unlike you, do not allow myself to be surprised. I am always ready for any occasion. I took Inventory of you. I confirmed your identity with ease. Your scent, your posture, your errors in dress, your deliberate hand movement, and your attempt to construct a spectacle from your proximity to me all confirmed your appalling presence to even the most novice of gumshoes. I withdrew not from failure, but from procedure. Do continue to flatter yourself with the image of my Uniform undone if it steadies your nerves. I will not deprive you of the small comforts you require to survive the recollection of the event. My shirt was ruined. My jacket was removed. My staffers performed their duties. You watched with the desperation of a troll hoping the scene would demerit me. It did not, no matter how many daggers you stare into my form. You spilled Reserve on an Officer of the Threshecutioner Reserve during a Ceremony attended by ranked Witnesses, beneath Honors you were not there to receive, after engineering a drinking rite whose mechanics you misrepresented. Now you arrive here on Chittr, perfumed, pleased with yourself, and, I guarantee, still lacking decorum in your Uniform. There is no romance here. This is a record of our continued grievances. No ache. No recognition. There is no coy invitation suspended between our sheathed blades, once slicked with the lacquered liquors of one another's violet biological hemo-adjacent material. There is only the question of whether you wish to resolve this matter truly as Officers, or whether you prefer to continue performing your charade. So drink to me if you must. Toast my name until it sweetens whatever imitation courage you are pouring down your gullet. When you are finished, Captain Mirith, address the offense plainly. Then we will discuss steel. Note, for the sake of Chittr's Content Policy: #violence, #gore, #Dueling, #substance Signed and Ratified, Marech Veylor 1st Officer of the Threshecutioner Reserve